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For the autumn, woodcocks often take refuge in old gardens of lime—trees. There are a good many such gardens among us, in the province of Orel. Our forefathers, when they selected a place for habitation, invariably marked out two acres of good ground for a fruit—garden, with avenues of lime—trees. Within the last fifty, or seventy years at most, these mansions— "noblemen's nests, " as they call them—have gradually disappeared off the face of the earth; the houses are falling to pieces, or have been sold for the building materials; the stone outhouses have become piles of rubbish; the apple—trees are dead and turned into firewood, the hedges and fences are pulled up. Only the lime—trees grow in all their glory as before, and with ploughed fields all round them, tell a tale to this light—hearted generation of "our fathers and brothers who have lived before us. " A magnificent tree is such an old lime—tree.... Even the merciless axe of the Russian peasant spares it. Its leaves are small, its powerful limbs spread wide in all directions; there is perpetual shade under them.
在秋天里，丘鹬常常躲在那古老的欧椴树园子里。在我们奥廖尔省，这样的园子多得很。我们祖先在选择居住地点时，总会划出两英亩的好地，来建一个有欧椴树林阴大道的果园。最近五十年来，至多七十年，这些庄园——他们称之为 “贵族之家” ——渐渐地从地面上消失了；房屋要么坍塌了，要么卖给别人做建筑材料；石头砌的外屋变成了一堆堆废物；苹果树枯死了，成了人们用的柴火，树篱和栅栏也都被拔了起来。只有欧椴树依旧长得那么茂盛，一块块耕地围在它们周围，向这些无忧无虑的后代诉说着 “我们先辈父兄们” 的故事。这种老欧椴树美极了……即使是俄罗斯农民冷酷无情的斧头也会放过它。它的叶子小小的，强劲的树枝向四周广为伸展，于是树底下永远有一块阴凉地。
Once, as I was wandering about the fields after partridges with Yermolai, I saw some way off a deserted garden, and turned into it. I had hardly crossed its borders when a snipe rose up out of a bush with a clatter. I fired my gun, and at the same instant, a few paces from me, I heard a shriek; the frightened face of a young girl peeped out for a second from behind the trees, and instantly disappeared. Yermolai ran up to me: "Why are you shooting here? there is a landowner living here. "
有一次，我和叶尔莫莱在野外打山鹑，我看见前方有一个荒废了的园子，就拐了进去。我刚跨过园子的边界，就有一只沙锥哗啦从灌木丛里飞了起来。我开了一枪，就在这时，从离我几步远的地方传来了一阵尖叫声，一个年轻的姑娘从树后露了一下脸，满是惊慌，然后马上就不见了。叶尔莫莱跑到我跟前说： “您怎么在这里开枪呀？有一个地主住在这里呢。”
Before I had time to answer him, before my dog had had time to bring me, with dignified importance, the bird I had shot, swift footsteps were heard, and a tall man with moustaches came out of the thicket and stopped, with an air of displeasure, before me. I made my apologies as best I could, gave him my name, and offered him the bird that had been killed on his domains.
我还没来得及回答他，猎狗也没来得及趾高气昂地把我射中的鸟给我叼回来，就听见一阵急促的脚步声，接着一个蓄着小胡子的高个子男人从灌木丛里走了出来，一脸不高兴地站在了我面前。我竭尽全力道歉，还告诉了他我的名字，并提出要把那只在他领地上射死的鸟送给他。
"Very well, " he said to me with a smile; "I will take your game, but only on one condition: that you will stay and dine with us.”
“好吧，” 他微笑着对我说， “我收下您的野味，不过有一个条件：请您留下来和我们一起吃顿饭。”
I must confess I was not greatly delighted at his proposition, but it was impossible to refuse.
老实说，我并不是很喜欢他的提议，但也不可能拒绝。
"I am a landowner here, and your neighbour, Radilov; perhaps you have heard of me? " continued my new acquaintance; "to—day is Sunday, and we shall be sure to have a decent dinner, otherwise I would not have invited you.”
“我是这里的地主，也是您的邻居，拉季洛夫，或许您听说过我吧？” 我的新朋友接着说道， “今天是星期天，我家的饭菜应该很不错，否则我就不会邀请您了。”
I made such a reply as one does make in such circumstances, and turned to follow him. A little path that had lately been cleared soon led us out of the grove of lime—trees; we came into the kitchen—garden. Between the old apple—trees and gooseberry bushes were rows of curly whitish—green cabbages; the hop twined its tendrils round high poles; there were thick ranks of brown twigs tangled over with dried peas; large flat pumpkins seemed rolling on the ground; cucumbers showed yellow under their dusty angular leaves; tall nettles were waving along the hedge; in two or three places grew clumps of tartar honeysuckle, elder, and wild rose—the remnants of former flower—beds. Near a small fish—pond, full of reddish and slimy water, we saw the well, surrounded by puddles. Ducks were busily splashing and waddling about these puddles; a dog blinking and twitching in every limb was gnawing a bone in the meadow, where a piebald cow was lazily chewing the grass, from time to time flicking its tail over its lean back. The little path turned to one side; from behind thick willows and birches we caught sight of a little grey old house, with a boarded roof and a winding flight of steps. Radilov stopped short.
我说了几句客套话，然后就转身跟着他走了。沿着一条刚刚清扫过的小路，我们很快就走出了欧椴树林，来到了菜园里。在老苹果树和醋栗树丛之间长着一排排纹理分明、绿色中带着白色的卷心菜；忽布的藤蔓缠绕在高高的杆子上；一排排密密麻麻的棕色小枝上缠满了干枯的豌豆；又大又扁的南瓜像是在地上打滚；沾满灰尘、有棱有角的叶子下面露出了黄色的黄瓜；高高的荨麻正沿着篱笆摇曳着；两三处地方长着一丛丛鞑靼忍冬、接骨木和野蔷薇——是之前花圃里留下来的。园中有一个小鱼池，里面都是黏糊糊的淡红色的水，我们看到了那口井，周围都是水坑。鸭子们正在水坑里匆忙地拍打着水，摇摇摆摆地走着；一条眨巴着眼睛、四肢抽搐的狗正在草地上啃一根骨头；一头花斑母牛懒洋洋地嚼着草，尾巴不时地轻弹着它那消瘦的脊背。小路拐向了一边，在茂密的柳树和白桦树后面，我们看见了一幢老式的灰色小房子，屋顶上铺着木板，台阶也弯弯曲曲的。拉季洛夫猛地停了下来。
"But, " he said, with a good—humoured and direct look in my face, "on second thoughts... perhaps you don't care to come and see me, after all.... In that case—”
“不过，” 他愉快地直视着我的脸说道， “我仔细一想……也许您并不愿意来我家，毕竟……要是那样的话——”
I did not allow him to finish, but assured him that, on the contrary, it would be a great pleasure to me to dine with him.
我没等他说完，便向他保证，正相反，我很乐意和他一起吃饭。
"Well, you know best. "
“好呀，你最清楚了。”
We went into the house. A young man in a long coat of stout blue cloth met us on the steps. Radilov at once told him to bring Yermolai some vodka; my huntsman made a respectful bow to the back of the munificent host. From the hall, which was decorated with various parti—coloured pictures and check curtains, we went into a small room—Radilov's study. I took off my hunting accoutrements, and put my gun in a corner; the young man in the long—skirted coat busily brushed me down.
我们走进了房子里。一个穿着蓝色厚呢绒长外套的小伙子在台阶上迎接我们。拉季洛夫立马让他给叶尔莫莱拿些伏特加酒来，我的猎伴对着这位慷慨的主人的后背恭恭敬敬地鞠了一躬。我们经过大厅，这里挂着各种五颜六色的图画和挡帘，走进了一个小房间——这是拉季洛夫的书房。我卸下了打猎的装备，把枪放到了一个角落里，那个穿着长摆外套的小伙子就赶忙给我掸灰尘。
"Well, now, let us go into the drawing—room. " said Radilov cordially. "I will make you acquainted with my mother. "
“嗯，现在，咱们去客厅吧。” 拉季洛夫亲切地说， “我会让你们认识我的母亲。”
I walked after him. In the drawing—room, in the sofa in the centre of the room, was sitting an old lady of medium height, in a cinnamon—coloured dress and a white cap, with a thinnish, kind old face, and a timid, mournful expression.
我跟在他后面。在客厅中间的沙发上，坐着一位中等身高的老太太，她穿着一条肉桂色的裙子，戴着一顶白色的便帽，慈祥的面孔消瘦而沧桑，带着胆怯、忧伤的表情。
"Here, mother, let me introduce to you our neighbour.... "
“嘿，妈，我给您介绍一下我们的邻居……”
The old lady got up and made me a bow, not letting go out of her withered hands a fat worsted reticule that looked like a sack.
老太太起身向我弯了弯腰，干枯的手上还拿着一个粗毛线手提袋，看上去就像麻袋。
"Have you been long in our neighbourhood? " she asked, in a weak and gentle voice, blinking her eyes.
“您在这附近住了很久了吗？” 她眨着眼睛，用无力而温和的声音问道。
"No, not long. "
“不，还没有多久。”
"Do you intend to remain here long? "
“您打算在这里常住吗？”
"Till the winter, I think. "
“我想住到冬天。”
The old lady said no more.
那老太太便再没说别的了。
"And here, " interposed Radilov, indicating to me a tall and thin man, whom I had not noticed on entering the drawing—room, "is Fyodor Miheitch.... Come, Fedya, give the visitor a specimen of your art. Why have you hidden yourself away in that corner? "
“还有这位，” 拉季洛夫指着一个高瘦的男人插话说道，我进客厅的时候没注意到这个人， “是费多尔•米赫伊奇……来呀，费佳，给客人露一手你的技艺。你干嘛缩到墙角里去了呀？”
Fyodor Miheitch got up at once from his chair, fetched a wretched little fiddle from the window, took the bow—not by the end, as is usual, but by the middle—put the fiddle to his chest, shut his eyes, and fell to dancing, singing a song, and scraping on the strings. He looked about seventy; a thin nankin overcoat flapped pathetically about his dry and bony limbs. He danced, at times skipping boldly, and then dropping his little bald head with his scraggy neck stretched out as if he were dying, stamping his feet on the ground, and sometimes bending his knees with obvious difficulty. A voice cracked with age came from his toothless mouth. Radilov must have guessed from the expression of my face that Fedya's "art" did not give me much pleasure.
费多尔•米赫伊奇立刻从椅子上站了起来，到窗台上拿起一把破破烂烂的小提琴，拿起弓——不是照常规握着弓的末端，而是握在弓的中间——把小提琴抵在胸口，闭上眼睛，跳起舞来，一边哼着歌，一边吱吱嘎嘎地拉着琴弦。他看上去差不多有七十岁，干瘦的身体外面那件薄薄的黄色土布大衣摆动地令人哀伤。他跳舞时，时而大胆地跳跃，接着垂着他小小的秃头，伸出瘦弱的颈脖，好像要死了似的，双脚踏着地，时而又吃力地屈起双膝。他嘴里的牙掉光了，发出沙哑苍老的声音。拉季洛夫准是从我脸上的表情猜出，我不怎么喜欢费佳的 “技艺” 。
"Very good, old man, that's enough, " he said. "You can go and refresh yourself. "
“非常好，老头子，那就够了，” 他说， “你可以去休息一下了。”
Fyodor Miheitch at once laid down the fiddle on the window—sill, bowed first to me as the guest, then to the old lady, then to Radilov, and went away.
费多尔•米赫伊奇立即把小提琴放到了窗台上，先向我这个客人鞠了个躬，接着向老太太，再向拉季洛夫鞠了躬，便出去了。
"He too was a landowner, " my new friend continued, "and a rich one too, but he ruined himself—so he lives now with me.... But in his day he was considered the most dashing fellow in the province; he eloped with two married ladies; he used to keep singers, and sang himself, and danced like a master.... But won't you take some vodka? dinner is just ready.”
“他以前也是个地主，” 我的新朋友继续说道， “还是一个富有的地主呢，可是他破产了，所以现在住在我这里……当年他可是省里最潇洒的家伙，他和两个有夫之妇私奔过，还养过一些歌手，自己也唱歌，还像个大师似的跳舞……您要不要来点儿伏特加酒？饭菜准备好了。”
A young girl, the same that I had caught a glimpse of in the garden, came into the room.
一个年轻的姑娘，就是我在园子里瞥过一眼的那个姑娘，走进屋子里。
"And here is Olga! " observed Radilov, slightly turning his head; "let me present you.... Well, let us go into dinner. "
“这是奥丽雅！” 拉季洛夫微微转过头说道， “让我给您介绍下……好啦，我们吃饭去吧。”
We went in and sat down to the table. While we were coming out of the drawing—room and taking our seats, Fyodor Miheitch, whose eyes were bright and his nose rather red after his "refreshment", sang "Raise the cry of Victory". They laid a separate cover for him in a corner on a little table without a table—napkin. The poor old man could not boast of very nice habits, and so they always kept him at some distance from society. He crossed himself, sighed, and began to eat like a shark. The dinner was in reality not bad, and in honour of Sunday was accompanied, of course, with shaking jelly and Spanish puffs of pastry. At the table Radilov, who had served ten years in an infantry regiment and had been in Turkey, fell to telling anecdotes; I listened to him with attention, and secretly watched Olga. She was not very pretty; but the tranquil and resolute expression of her face, her broad, white brow, her thick hair, and especially her brown eyes—not large, but clear, sensible and lively—would have made an impression on anyone in my place. She seemed to be following every word Radilov uttered—not so much sympathy as passionate attention was expressed on her face. Radilov in years might have been her father; he called her by her Christian name, but I guessed at once that she was not his daughter. In the course of conversation he referred to his deceased wife— "her sister, " he added, indicating Olga. She blushed quickly and dropped her eyes. Radilov paused a moment and then changed the subject. The old lady did not utter a word during the whole of dinner; she ate scarcely anything herself, and did not press me to partake. Her features had an air of timorous and hopeless expectation, that melancholy of old age which it pierces one's heart to look upon. At the end of dinner Fyodor Miheitch was beginning to "celebrate" the hosts and guests, but Radilov looked at me and asked him to be quiet; the old man passed his hand over his lips, began to blink, bowed, and sat down again, but only on the very edge of his chair. After dinner I returned with Radilov to his study.
我们走进了餐厅，在餐桌旁坐了下来。我们从客厅走到这里来就坐，这时费多尔•米赫伊奇在 “休息” 过后两眼放光，鼻子也有点红，他唱了首《让胜利之雷响起吧》。在墙角里一张没有桌布的小桌子上，他们为他单独摆放了一套餐具。这个可怜的老人可没法夸耀自己有很好的个人习惯，所以他们总是让他跟大家保持一定距离。他在胸前画了个十字，叹了口气，就开始像只鲨鱼一样吃了起来。饭菜确实不错，再加上又是礼拜天，当然会有颤悠悠的果冻和 “西班牙之风” 的糕点。拉季洛夫曾在步兵团里服役十年，还在土耳其呆过，他在饭桌上讲起了轶闻趣事，我用心地听他讲，还偷偷地看了看奥丽雅。她不算很漂亮，但她脸上那平静而坚定的表情，那宽阔、白皙的额头，那浓密的头发，尤其是她那双褐色的眼睛，虽然不大，可是清澈、灵动、有活力，会给任何处于我这个位置的人留下深刻的印象。她似乎在倾听拉季洛夫所讲的每一句话——她脸上流露出的与其说是赞同，不如说是热切的关注。拉季洛夫在年龄上都可以当她父亲了，他用她的教名来称呼她，可是我马上猜到她并不是他的女儿。在谈话的过程中，他提到了他已故的妻子—— “她的姐姐” ，他指着奥丽雅补充道。她马上就脸红了，还垂下了双眼。拉季洛夫停了一会儿，然后换了个话题。吃饭的时候，老太太一句话都没说，她几乎没吃什么东西，也没有劝我多吃点。她脸上流露出一种胆怯、无望的期待，是那种老年人的忧郁，看了让人心里不舒服。快散席的时候，费多尔•米赫伊奇正要开始 “赞美” 主人们和客人们，但拉季洛夫看了看我，便叫他不要唱了，老头子用手抹了一下嘴，眨了眨眼睛，鞠了个躬，然后又坐了下来，但是只坐在了椅子的最边上。饭后，我和拉季洛夫回到了他的书房里。
In people who are constantly and intensely preoccupied with one idea, or one emotion, there is something in common, a kind of external resemblance in manner, however different may be their qualities, their abilities, their position in society, and their education. The more I watched Radilov, the more I felt that he belonged to the class of such people. He talked of husbandry, of the crops, of the war, of the gossip of the district and the approaching elections; he talked without constraint, and even with interest; but suddenly he would sigh and drop into a chair, and pass his hand over his face, like a man wearied out by a tedious task. His whole nature—a good and warm—hearted one too—seemed saturated through, steeped in some one feeling. I was amazed by the fact that I could not discover in him either a passion for eating, nor for wine, nor for sport, nor for Kursk nightingales, nor for epileptic pigeons, nor for Russian literature, nor for trotting—hacks, nor for Hungarian coats, nor for cards, nor billiards, nor for dances, nor trips to the provincial town or the capital, nor for paper—factories and beet—sugar refineries, nor for painted pavilions, nor for tea, nor for trace—horses trained to hold their heads askew, nor even for fat coachmen belted under their very armpits—those magnificent coachmen whose eyes, for some mysterious reason, seem rolling and starting out of their heads at every movement.... 'What sort of landowner is this, then? ' I thought. At the same time he did not in the least pose as a gloomy man discontented with his destiny; on the contrary, he seemed full of indiscrimating good—will, cordial and even offensive readiness to become intimate with every one he came across. In reality you felt at the same time that he could not be friends, nor be really intimate with anyone, and that he could not be so, not because in general he was independent of other people, but because his whole being was for a time turned inwards upon himself. Looking at Radilov, I could never imagine him happy either now or at any time. He, too, was not handsome; but in his eyes, his smile, his whole being, there was a something, mysterious and extremely attractive—yes, mysterious is just what it was. So that you felt you would like to know him better, to get to love him. Of course, at times the landowner and the man of the steppes peeped out in him; but all the same he was a capital fellow.
那些总是极度关注某个想法或某种情感的人，不管他们的品性、能力、社会地位和教育背景有多么不同，也有些共同之处，那就是外在举止上的相似性。我越观察拉季洛夫，就越觉得他属于这一类人。他在谈论耕种、收成、战争、县城的流言蜚语或是新近的选举时，都毫不拘束，甚至饶有兴趣，可是突然间，他会叹口气，一屁股坐在椅子里，用手抹抹脸，就像一个被繁重的工作压得疲惫不堪的人一样。他本性善良而热忱，好像浸透沉浸在某种感情中。令我惊讶的是，我发现他对这些事情都不热衷，比如说吃喝、打猎、库尔斯克的夜莺、患癫痫病的鸽子、俄国文学、溜蹄马、匈牙利外套、扑克、台球、跳舞、去省城或首都旅行、造纸厂和甜菜炼糖厂、上过漆的亭台楼阁、饮茶、训练成歪头的挽缰马，甚至是腰带系到腋下的胖马车夫——那些马车夫穿着讲究，但不知为什么，他们的眼睛只要一动就像是要从头上滚出来似的…… “这位地主是什么样的人呢？” 我心想。然而，他绝对没有假装忧郁，抱怨自己的命运；正相反，他似乎充满了善意和热忱，对所有人都一视同仁，甚至还唐突地要与每一个萍水相逢的人结交。实际上，你同时会感觉到，他不可能同任何人成为朋友，也不会同任何人真正地亲密起来，他之所以不能这样，并不是因为他基本上不依赖别人，而是因为他一度把自己的本性完全藏了起来。看着拉季洛夫，我永远无法想象，他现在或是任何时候会是快乐的。他并不英俊，但是他的眼神、笑容，以及全身上下都散发着某种魅力，神秘且极其吸引人——对，就是神秘。因而，你觉得自己想更进一步地去了解他，去爱他。当然，有时候他也会流露出地主和草原居民的本性，但尽管如此，他仍是个顶好的人。
We were beginning to talk about the new marshal of the district, when suddenly we heard Olga's voice at the door: "Tea is ready. " We went into the drawing—room. Fyodor Miheitch was sitting as before in his corner between the little window and the door, his legs curled up under him. Radilov's mother was knitting a stocking. From the opened windows came a breath of autumn freshness and the scent of apples. Olga was busy pouring out tea. I looked at her now with more attention than at dinner. Like provincial girls as a rule, she spoke very little, but at any rate I did not notice in her any of their anxiety to say something fine, together with their painful consciousness of stupidity and helplessness; she did not sigh as though from the burden of unutterable emotions, nor cast up her eyes, nor smile vaguely and dreamily. Her look expressed tranquil self—possession, like a man who is taking breath after great happiness or great excitement. Her carriage and her movements were resolute and free. I liked her very much.
我们刚谈起新上任的县长，就突然听到奥丽雅在门口喊： “茶备好了。” 我们便走进了客厅。费多尔•米赫伊奇就像之前一样，坐在他那个位于小窗户和门之间的角落里，他的双腿蜷在身下。拉季洛夫的母亲正在织袜子。窗户打开着，一丝秋天的清新和苹果的香气飘了进来。奥丽雅正忙着倒茶。此刻我专注地看着她，比吃饭的时候还要专注。她就像普通的乡下姑娘一样，很少说话，但至少我从她身上看不出她们那种想说几句好听话的渴望，也没有她们愚蠢无助而痛苦的感觉；她不会发出那样的叹息，就好像自己有难言之隐一样，也不挤眉弄眼，也不会露出暧昧迷人的微笑。她看上去恬静而泰然自若，就像一个经历过极大的幸福或极大的兴奋之后，正在喘气的人。她的一举一动都那么坚定而洒脱。我非常喜欢她。
I fell again into conversation with Radilov. I don't recollect what brought us to the familiar observation that often the most insignificant things produce more effect on people than the most important.
接着我又和拉季洛夫聊了起来。我记不起来我们是如何谈到那个众所周知的结论的，即最微不足道的事情常常比最重要的事情对人产生更大的影响。
"Yes, " Radilov agreed, "I have experienced that in my own case. I, as you know, have been married. It was not for long—three years; my wife died in child—birth. I thought that I should not survive her; I was fearfully miserable, broken down, but I could not weep—I wandered about like one possessed. They decked her out, as they always do, and laid her on a table—in this very room. The priest came, the deacons came, began to sing, to pray, and to burn incense; I bowed to the ground, and hardly shed a tear. My heart seemed turned to stone—and my head too—I was heavy all over. So passed my first day. Would you believe it? I even slept in the night. The next morning I went in to look at my wife: it was summer—time, the sunshine fell upon her from head to foot, and it was so bright. Suddenly I saw…” （here Radilov gave an involuntary shudder）" what do you think? One of her eyes was not quite shut, and on this eye a fly was moving.... I fell down in a heap, and when I came to myself, I began to weep and weep... I could not stop myself.... "
“是呀，” 拉季洛夫赞同地说道， “我就曾亲身体验过。您知道，我以前结过婚。没过多久……三年，我的妻子在生孩子的时候死了。我以为我会同她一起死去，我非常痛苦，整个人都垮掉了，但是我哭不出来，就像个着了魔的人一样游荡着。按照惯例，她们给她打扮了一番，然后把她放到了一张桌子上——就在这个房间里。牧师来了，几位执事也来了，然后他们开始唱赞美诗、祷告和焚香；我叩首至地，却几乎没流一滴泪。我的心似乎变成了石头——我的脑袋也是——我感觉浑身都很沉重。第一天就这么过去了。您相信吗？那天晚上我还睡着了。第二天早上，我进屋去看我的妻子：那时正值夏天，阳光落在她整个身体上，那么地明亮。忽然我看到……” （说到这里，拉季洛夫不由得哆嗦了一下） “您猜是什么？她有一只眼睛没有完全闭上，还有只苍蝇在上面爬……我一下子栽倒在了地上，等我醒了以后，就开始哭呀哭……我根本控制不住自己……”
Radilov was silent. I looked at him, then at Olga.... I can never forget the expression of her face. The old lady had laid the stocking down on her knees, and taken a handkerchief out of her reticule; she was stealthily wiping away her tears. Fyodor Miheitch suddenly got up, seized his fiddle, and in a wild and hoarse voice began to sing a song. He wanted doubtless to restore our spirits; but we all shuddered at his first note, and Radilov asked him to be quiet.
拉季洛夫沉默了。我看了看他，又看了看奥丽雅……我永远都忘不了她脸上的那个表情。老太太把袜子放到了膝上，从手提包里掏出了手帕，悄悄地擦着眼泪。费尔多•米赫伊奇突然站了起来，抓起了他的小提琴，然后开始用粗犷而沙哑的声音唱起歌来。他无疑是想让我们高兴些，但是我们刚听到他唱歌，就都哆嗦了一下，拉季洛夫便叫他别唱了。
"Still what is past, is past, " he continued; "we cannot recall the past, and in the end... all is for the best in this world below, as I think Voltaire said, " he added hurriedly.
“不过，过去的已经过去，” 他继续说道， “我们无法回到过去，而且最后……一切都会好起来的，我记得好像是伏尔泰说的。” 他连忙补充说。
"Yes, " I replied, "of course. Besides, every trouble can be endured, and there is no position so terrible that there is no escape from it. "
“是的，” 我答道， “当然了。而且，一切的不幸都是可以忍受的，没有过不去的坎。”
"Do you think so? " said Radilov. "Well, perhaps you are right. I recollect I lay once in the hospital in Turkey half dead; I had typhus fever. Well, our quarters were nothing to boast of—of course, in time of war—and we had to thank God for what we had! Suddenly they bring in more sick—where are they to put them? The doctor goes here and there—there is no room left. So he comes up to me and asks the attendant, 'Is he alive? ' He answers, 'He was alive this morning. ' The doctor bends down, listens; I am breathing. The good man could not help saying, 'Well, what an absurd constitution; the man's dying; he's certain to die, and he keeps hanging on, lingering, taking up space for nothing, and keeping out others.’ Well, I thought to myself, ' So you are in a bad way, Mihal Mihalitch.... 'And, after all, I got well, and am alive till now, as you may see for yourself. You are right, to be sure.”
“您是这么想的吗？” 拉季洛夫说， “嗯，也许您说得对。我记得有一次，我半死不活地躺在土耳其的一家医院里，我得了斑疹伤寒。唉，我们住的地方没什么值得夸耀的——当然，那是战争时期——我们有地方住就谢天谢地了。突然，他们送来了更多的伤员——要把他们放在哪里呢？医生跑来跑去——已经没有空余的地方了。于是他走到我跟前，问护理员： ‘他还活着吗？’ 护理员答道： ‘他今早上还活着。’ 医生俯下身，听了听，我还有呼吸。这位仁兄忍不住说道： ‘唉，这体质真差劲，这个人要死了，他肯定会死的，还在这里一直撑着，拖延时间，白占着地方，妨碍别人。’ 唉，我心想， ‘你的情况很糟糕啊，米海洛•米海雷奇……’ 不过，我终究还是好起来了，您瞧瞧，我一直活到了现在。可见您说得对。”
"In any case I am right, " I replied; "even if you had died, you would just the same have escaped from your horrible position. "
“无论如何，我的话都是对的，” 我答道， “即使您那时死了，您也同样算是逃出了逆境。”
"Of course, of course, " he added, with a violent blow of his fist on the table. "One has only to come to a decision.... What is the use of being in a horrible position?... What is the good of delaying, lingering. "
“当然，当然，” 他用拳头猛地锤了一下桌子，补充说道， “只要下定决心……为什么还要身处逆境之中？……耽搁拖延又有什么好处呢。”
Olga rose quickly and went out into the garden.
奥丽雅迅速起身，走到了园子里。
"Well, Fedya, a dance! " cried Radilov.
“喂，费佳，跳个舞吧！” 拉季洛夫喊道。
Fedya jumped up and walked about the room with that artificial and peculiar motion which is affected by the man who plays the part of a goat with a tame bear. He sang meanwhile, "While at our Gates.... "
费佳猛地站了起来，然后就在屋里跳舞，动作做作而独特，就像是《山羊与驯服的熊》里扮演山羊的那个人一样。他还一边唱着： “在我家的大门旁……”
The rattle of a racing droshky sounded in the drive, and in a few minutes a tall, broad—shouldered and stoutly made man, the peasant proprietor, Ovsyanikov, came into the room.
从大道上传来一辆四轮赛跑马车的咔嗒声，不一会儿，一位身材高大、肩膀宽阔的健壮老头——自耕农奥夫夏尼科夫，走进屋来。
But Ovsyanikov is such a remarkable and original personage that, with the reader's permission, we will put off speaking about him till the next sketch. And now I will only add for myself that the next day I started off hunting at earliest dawn with Yermolai, and returned home after the day's sport was over... that a week later I went again to Radilov's, but did not find him or Olga at home, and within a fortnight I learned that he had suddenly disappeared, left his mother, and gone away somewhere with his sister—in—law. The whole province was excited, and talked about this event, and I only then completely understood the expression of Olga's face while Radilov was telling us his story. It was breathing, not with sympathetic suffering only: it was burning with jealousy.
不过，因为奥夫夏尼科夫是一个非常出色而独特的人，所以若读者允许，我们就拖到下一篇再谈他。现在我只补充一下，第二天一大早，我就和叶尔莫莱打猎去了，打完猎后就回家了……一个星期以后，我又去了拉季洛夫家，却发现他和奥丽雅都不在家，两个星期过后，我得知他突然失踪了，撇下了他的母亲，带着他的小姨子不知去了何处。全省都轰动了，都在谈论这件事，而我直到那时我才彻底明白了拉季洛夫给我们讲述他的故事时，奥丽雅脸上的那个表情。当时她脸上不仅流露着怜悯之情，还有强烈的醋意。
Before leaving the country I called on old Madame Radilov. I found her in the drawing—room; she was playing cards with Fyodor Miheitch.
在离开乡下之前，我去拜访了拉季洛夫的老母亲。我在客厅看到了她，她正在和费多尔•米赫伊奇玩纸牌。
"Have you news of your son? " I asked her at last.
“您有您儿子的消息吗？” 最后我问她。
The old lady began to weep. I made no more inquiries about Radilov.
老太太就开始哭了起来。我便不再过问拉季洛夫的事了。
CHAPTER VI THE PEASANT PROPRIETOR OVSYANIKOV