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The Duel by Anton Chekhov. Translated by Constance Garnett., II

II

Laevsky's not loving Nadyezhda Fyodorovna showed itself chiefly in the fact that everything she said or did seemed to him a lie, or equivalent to a lie, and everything he read against women and love seemed to him to apply perfectly to himself, to Nadyezhda Fyodorovna and her husband. When he returned home, she was sitting at the window, dressed and with her hair done, and with a preoccupied face was drinking coffee and turning over the leaves of a fat magazine; and he thought the drinking of coffee was not such a remarkable event that she need put on a preoccupied expression over it, and that she had been wasting her time doing her hair in a fashionable style, as there was no one here to attract and no need to be attractive. And in the magazine he saw nothing but falsity. He thought she had dressed and done her hair so as to look handsomer, and was reading in order to seem clever.

"Will it be all right for me to go to bathe to-day?" she said.

"Why? There won't be an earthquake whether you go or not, I suppose . ." "No, I only ask in case the doctor should be vexed." "Well, ask the doctor, then; I'm not a doctor." On this occasion what displeased Laevsky most in Nadyezhda Fyodorovna was her white open neck and the little curls at the back of her head. And he remembered that when Anna Karenin got tired of her husband, what she disliked most of all was his ears, and thought: "How true it is, how true!" Feeling weak and as though his head were perfectly empty, he went into his study, lay down on his sofa, and covered his face with a handkerchief that he might not be bothered by the flies. Despondent and oppressive thoughts always about the same thing trailed slowly across his brain like a long string of waggons on a gloomy autumn evening, and he sank into a state of drowsy oppression. It seemed to him that he had wronged Nadyezhda Fyodorovna and her husband, and that it was through his fault that her husband had died. It seemed to him that he had sinned against his own life, which he had ruined, against the world of lofty ideas, of learning, and of work, and he conceived that wonderful world as real and possible, not on this sea-front with hungry Turks and lazy mountaineers sauntering upon it, but there in the North, where there were operas, theatres, newspapers, and all kinds of intellectual activity. One could only there—not here—be honest, intelligent, lofty, and pure. He accused himself of having no ideal, no guiding principle in life, though he had a dim understanding now what it meant. Two years before, when he fell in love with Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, it seemed to him that he had only to go with her as his wife to the Caucasus, and he would be saved from vulgarity and emptiness; in the same way now, he was convinced that he had only to part from Nadyezhda Fyodorovna and to go to Petersburg, and he would get everything he wanted.

"Run away," he muttered to himself, sitting up and biting his nails. "Run away!" He pictured in his imagination how he would go aboard the steamer and then would have some lunch, would drink some cold beer, would talk on deck with ladies, then would get into the train at Sevastopol and set off. Hurrah for freedom! One station after another would flash by, the air would keep growing colder and keener, then the birches and the fir-trees, then Kursk, Moscow. In the restaurants cabbage soup, mutton with kasha, sturgeon, beer, no more Asiaticism, but Russia, real Russia. The passengers in the train would talk about trade, new singers, the Franco-Russian entente ; on all sides there would be the feeling of keen, cultured, intellectual, eager life. Hasten on, on! At last Nevsky Prospect, and Great Morskaya Street, and then Kovensky Place, where he used to live at one time when he was a student, the dear grey sky, the drizzling rain, the drenched cabmen. "Ivan Andreitch!" some one called from the next room. "Are you at home?" "I'm here," Laevsky responded. "What do you want?" "Papers." Laevsky got up languidly, feeling giddy, walked into the other room, yawning and shuffling with his slippers. There, at the open window that looked into the street, stood one of his young fellow-clerks, laying out some government documents on the window-sill.

"One minute, my dear fellow," Laevsky said softly, and he went to look for the ink; returning to the window, he signed the papers without looking at them, and said: "It's hot!" "Yes. Are you coming to-day?" "I don't think so. I'm not quite well. Tell Sheshkovsky that I will come and see him after dinner." The clerk went away. Laevsky lay down on his sofa again and began thinking:

"And so I must weigh all the circumstances and reflect on them. Before I go away from here I ought to pay up my debts. I owe about two thousand roubles. I have no money. Of course, that's not important; I shall pay part now, somehow, and I shall send the rest, later, from Petersburg. The chief point is Nadyezhda Fyodorovna. First of all we must define our relations. Yes." A little later he was considering whether it would not be better to go to Samoylenko for advice.

"I might go," he thought, "but what use would there be in it? I shall only say something inappropriate about boudoirs, about women, about what is honest or dishonest. What's the use of talking about what is honest or dishonest, if I must make haste to save my life, if I am suffocating in this cursed slavery and am killing myself? One must realise at last that to go on leading the life I do is something so base and so cruel that everything else seems petty and trivial beside it. To run away," he muttered, sitting down, "to run away." The deserted seashore, the insatiable heat, and the monotony of the smoky lilac mountains, ever the same and silent, everlastingly solitary, overwhelmed him with depression, and, as it were, made him drowsy and sapped his energy. He was perhaps very clever, talented, remarkably honest; perhaps if the sea and the mountains had not closed him in on all sides, he might have become an excellent Zemstvo leader, a statesman, an orator, a political writer, a saint. Who knows? If so, was it not stupid to argue whether it were honest or dishonest when a gifted and useful man—an artist or musician, for instance—to escape from prison, breaks a wall and deceives his jailers? Anything is honest when a man is in such a position.

At two o'clock Laevsky and Nadyezhda Fyodorovna sat down to dinner. When the cook gave them rice and tomato soup, Laevsky said:

"The same thing every day. Why not have cabbage soup?" "There are no cabbages." "It's strange. Samoylenko has cabbage soup and Marya Konstantinovna has cabbage soup, and only I am obliged to eat this mawkish mess. We can't go on like this, darling." As is common with the vast majority of husbands and wives, not a single dinner had in earlier days passed without scenes and fault-finding between Nadyezhda Fyodorovna and Laevsky; but ever since Laevsky had made up his mind that he did not love her, he had tried to give way to Nadyezhda Fyodorovna in everything, spoke to her gently and politely, smiled, and called her "darling." "This soup tastes like liquorice," he said, smiling; he made an effort to control himself and seem amiable, but could not refrain from saying: "Nobody looks after the housekeeping. If you are too ill or busy with reading, let me look after the cooking." In earlier days she would have said to him, "Do by all means," or, "I see you want to turn me into a cook"; but now she only looked at him timidly and flushed crimson. "Well, how do you feel to-day?" he asked kindly.

"I am all right to-day. There is nothing but a little weakness." "You must take care of yourself, darling. I am awfully anxious about you." Nadyezhda Fyodorovna was ill in some way. Samoylenko said she had intermittent fever, and gave her quinine; the other doctor, Ustimovitch, a tall, lean, unsociable man, who used to sit at home in the daytime, and in the evenings walk slowly up and down on the sea-front coughing, with his hands folded behind him and a cane stretched along his back, was of opinion that she had a female complaint, and prescribed warm compresses. In old days, when Laevsky loved her, Nadyezhda Fyodorovna's illness had excited his pity and terror; now he saw falsity even in her illness. Her yellow, sleepy face, her lustreless eyes, her apathetic expression, and the yawning that always followed her attacks of fever, and the fact that during them she lay under a shawl and looked more like a boy than a woman, and that it was close and stuffy in her room—all this, in his opinion, destroyed the illusion and was an argument against love and marriage.

The next dish given him was spinach with hard-boiled eggs, while Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, as an invalid, had jelly and milk. When with a preoccupied face she touched the jelly with a spoon and then began languidly eating it, sipping milk, and he heard her swallowing, he was possessed by such an overwhelming aversion that it made his head tingle. He recognised that such a feeling would be an insult even to a dog, but he was angry, not with himself but with Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, for arousing such a feeling, and he understood why lovers sometimes murder their mistresses. He would not murder her, of course, but if he had been on a jury now, he would have acquitted the murderer.

"Merci, darling," he said after dinner, and kissed Nadyezhda Fyodorovna on the forehead. Going back into his study, he spent five minutes in walking to and fro, looking at his boots; then he sat down on his sofa and muttered:

"Run away, run away! We must define the position and run away!" He lay down on the sofa and recalled again that Nadyezhda Fyodorovna's husband had died, perhaps, by his fault. "To blame a man for loving a woman, or ceasing to love a woman, is stupid," he persuaded himself, lying down and raising his legs in order to put on his high boots. "Love and hatred are not under our control. As for her husband, maybe I was in an indirect way one of the causes of his death; but again, is it my fault that I fell in love with his wife and she with me?" Then he got up, and finding his cap, set off to the lodgings of his colleague, Sheshkovsky, where the Government clerks met every day to play vint and drink beer.

"My indecision reminds me of Hamlet," thought Laevsky on the way. "How truly Shakespeare describes it! Ah, how truly!"

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II II II II II II

Laevsky's not loving Nadyezhda Fyodorovna showed itself chiefly in the fact that everything she said or did seemed to him a lie, or equivalent to a lie, and everything he read against women and love seemed to him to apply perfectly to himself, to Nadyezhda Fyodorovna and her husband. |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||gegen||||||||||||||||| Нелюбовь Лаевского к Надежде Федоровне проявлялась главным образом в том, что все, что она говорила или делала, казалось ему ложью или эквивалентом лжи, и все, что он читал против женщин и любви, казалось ему совершенно применимым к нему самому, к Надежде Федоровне и ее муж. 拉耶夫斯基不爱娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜,主要表现在:在他看来,她说的和做的一切都是谎言,或等同于谎言;他读到的反对女人和爱情的一切,在他看来都完全适用于他自己、适用于娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜和她的丈夫。 When he returned home, she was sitting at the window, dressed and with her hair done, and with a preoccupied face was drinking coffee and turning over the leaves of a fat magazine; and he thought the drinking of coffee was not such a remarkable event that she need put on a preoccupied expression over it, and that she had been wasting her time doing her hair in a fashionable style, as there was no one here to attract and no need to be attractive. Когда он вернулся домой, она сидела у окна, одетая и с прической, и с озабоченным лицом пила кофе и перелистывала толстый журнал; и он думал, что распитие кофе не такое уж примечательное событие, чтобы ей нужно было делать по этому поводу озабоченное выражение лица, и что она тратит время, делая модную прическу, так как здесь некого было привлечь и некому было нужно быть привлекательным. 当他回到家时,她正坐在窗边,穿好衣服,梳好头发,一脸心不在焉地喝着咖啡,翻着一本厚厚的杂志。他觉得喝咖啡并不是什么了不起的事情,没必要摆出一副心不在焉的表情,她把头发梳成时髦的发型也是在浪费时间,因为这里没有人可吸引,也没有必要显得有吸引力。 And in the magazine he saw nothing but falsity. А в журнале ничего кроме фальши не увидел. 而他在杂志中看到的只有虚假。 He thought she had dressed and done her hair so as to look handsomer, and was reading in order to seem clever. Он думал, что она оделась и причесалась, чтобы выглядеть красивее, и читала, чтобы казаться умной. 他认为她穿衣打扮、梳头是为了让自己看上去更漂亮,而且她读书是为了让自己显得更聪明。

"Will it be all right for me to go to bathe to-day?" — Можно мне сегодня пойти купаться? “我今天可以去洗澡吗?” she said. она сказала.

"Why? There won't be an earthquake whether you go or not, I suppose . Думаю, землетрясения не будет, поедешь ты или нет. 我想,无论你去不去,都不会发生地震。 ." "No, I only ask in case the doctor should be vexed." "Não, só pergunto para o caso de o médico ficar irritado." — Нет, я спрашиваю только на тот случай, если доктор рассердится. “不,我问这个问题只是为了防止医生烦恼。” "Well, ask the doctor, then; I'm not a doctor." — Ну так спроси у доктора, я не врач. On this occasion what displeased Laevsky most in Nadyezhda Fyodorovna was her white open neck and the little curls at the back of her head. На этот раз больше всего не нравились Лаевскому в Надежде Федоровне ее белая открытая шея и маленькие кудри на затылке. 这次,娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜最让拉耶夫斯基不快的,就是她那白皙的露着的脖子和脑后的一小撮卷发。 And he remembered that when Anna Karenin got tired of her husband, what she disliked most of all was his ears, and thought: "How true it is, how true!" И он вспомнил, что когда Анна Каренина устала от своего мужа, то больше всего ей не понравились его уши, и она подумала: «Как это верно, как верно!» 他又想起安娜·卡列宁在厌倦丈夫的时候,最讨厌的就是他的耳朵,心里想:“真是千真万确,千真万确!” Feeling weak and as though his head were perfectly empty, he went into his study, lay down on his sofa, and covered his face with a handkerchief that he might not be bothered by the flies. Чувствуя себя слабым и как будто в голове у него было совершенно пусто, он прошел в свой кабинет, лег на диван и закрыл лицо платком, чтобы его не беспокоили мухи. 他感觉自己虚弱无力,头脑一片空白,于是走进书房,躺在沙发上,用手帕捂住脸,以免被苍蝇打扰。 Despondent and oppressive thoughts always about the same thing trailed slowly across his brain like a long string of waggons on a gloomy autumn evening, and he sank into a state of drowsy oppression. ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||somnoliento| Pensamentos desanimados e opressivos, sempre sobre a mesma coisa, percorriam lentamente o seu cérebro, como uma longa fila de vagões numa noite sombria de outono, e ele afundou-se num estado de opressão sonolenta. Унылые и тягостные мысли всегда об одном и том же медленно тянулись в его мозгу, как длинная вереница подвод в хмурый осенний вечер, и он впадал в состояние сонливой тоски. 那些关于同一件事的沮丧和压抑的思绪慢慢地涌入他的脑海,就像阴沉的秋夜里一长串的马车,他陷入了昏昏欲睡的压抑状态。 It seemed to him that he had wronged Nadyezhda Fyodorovna and her husband, and that it was through his fault that her husband had died. Ему казалось, что он обидел Надежду Федоровну и ее мужа и что по его вине умер ее муж. 他觉得自己冤枉了娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜和她的丈夫,正是他的过错才导致了她丈夫的死亡。 It seemed to him that he had sinned against his own life, which he had ruined, against the world of lofty ideas, of learning, and of work, and he conceived that wonderful world as real and possible, not on this sea-front with hungry Turks and lazy mountaineers sauntering upon it, but there in the North, where there were operas, theatres, newspapers, and all kinds of intellectual activity. Ему казалось, что он согрешил против своей собственной жизни, которую он загубил, против мира высоких идей, учения и труда, и он представлял себе этот чудесный мир реальным и возможным, а не на этой набережной с голодные турки и ленивые горцы, бродившие по ней, но там, на севере, где были оперы, театры, газеты и всякая интеллектуальная деятельность. 他觉得自己毁了自己的人生,犯下了罪孽,违背了这个充满崇高理想、学识和工作的世界。他认为,那个美好的世界是真实而可能的,不是在这个饥饿的土耳其人和懒惰的山民漫步的海滨,而是在北方,在那里有歌剧、剧院、报纸和各种各样的智力活动。 One could only there—not here—be honest, intelligent, lofty, and pure. Только там — не здесь — можно было быть честным, умным, высоким и чистым. 人们只有在那里——而不是在这里——才能诚实、聪明、高尚和纯洁。 He accused himself of having no ideal, no guiding principle in life, though he had a dim understanding now what it meant. Он обвинял себя в том, что у него нет идеала, нет руководящего принципа в жизни, хотя он смутно понимал теперь, что это значит. 他指责自己没有理想,没有人生指导原则,尽管他现在已经模糊地理解了这意味着什么。 Two years before, when he fell in love with Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, it seemed to him that he had only to go with her as his wife to the Caucasus, and he would be saved from vulgarity and emptiness; in the same way now, he was convinced that he had only to part from Nadyezhda Fyodorovna and to go to Petersburg, and he would get everything he wanted. Два года тому назад, когда он влюбился в Надежду Федоровну, ему казалось, что стоит ему только поехать с нею, как с женою, на Кавказ, и он спасется от пошлости и пустоты; так же и теперь он был уверен, что стоит ему только расстаться с Надеждой Федоровной и поехать в Петербург, и он получит все, что хочет. 两年前,当他爱上娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜时,他以为他只要娶她为妻到高加索去,他就能摆脱庸俗和空虚;现在,同样,他确信他只要离开娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜,到彼得堡去,他就能得到他想要的一切。

"Run away," he muttered to himself, sitting up and biting his nails. «Беги», — бормотал он себе под нос, садясь и кусая ногти. "Run away!" "Убегай!" He pictured in his imagination how he would go aboard the steamer and then would have some lunch, would drink some cold beer, would talk on deck with ladies, then would get into the train at Sevastopol and set off. Imaginou como subiria a bordo do vapor, almoçaria, beberia cerveja gelada, conversaria com senhoras no convés, entraria no comboio em Sebastopol e partiria. Он представил себе, как он сядет на пароход, а потом пообедает, выпьет холодного пива, поговорит на палубе с дамами, потом сядет в поезд в Севастополе и отправится в путь. 他在想象中描绘着自己登上轮船,吃午饭,喝冰啤酒,在甲板上与女士们聊天,然后在塞瓦斯托波尔登上火车出发。 Hurrah for freedom! Ура свободе! 自由万岁! One station after another would flash by, the air would keep growing colder and keener, then the birches and the fir-trees, then Kursk, Moscow. Pasaba una estación tras otra, el aire se volvía cada vez más frío, luego los abedules y los abetos, luego Kursk, Moscú. Passava uma estação atrás da outra, o ar ficava cada vez mais frio, depois as bétulas e os abetos, depois Kursk, Moscovo. Мелькала одна станция за другой, воздух становился все холоднее и пронзительнее, потом березы и ели, потом Курск, Москва. 一个车站接一个车站闪过,空气变得越来越冷,然后是桦树和冷杉,然后是库尔斯克、莫斯科。 In the restaurants cabbage soup, mutton with kasha, sturgeon, beer, no more Asiaticism, but Russia, real Russia. В ресторанах щи, баранина с кашей, осетрина, пиво, уже не азиатчинга, а Россия, настоящая Россия. 餐馆里有白菜汤、荞麦羊肉、鲟鱼、啤酒,这里不再有亚洲风情,而是俄罗斯风情,真正的俄罗斯风情。 The passengers in the train would talk about trade, new singers, the Franco-Russian entente ; on all sides there would be the feeling of keen, cultured, intellectual, eager life. Пассажиры поезда говорили о торговле, о новых певцах, о франко-русском союзе; со всех сторон было бы ощущение живой, культурной, интеллектуальной, жадной жизни. 火车上的乘客会谈论贸易、新歌手、法俄协约;到处都会感受到敏锐、有文化、有知识、热切的生活。 Hasten on, on! Despachem-se, despachem-se! Спешите, вперед! 快点,快点! At last Nevsky Prospect, and Great Morskaya Street, and then Kovensky Place, where he used to live at one time when he was a student, the dear grey sky, the drizzling rain, the drenched cabmen. Наконец Невский проспект, и улица Большая Морская, а потом Ковенский двор, где он когда-то жил, когда был студентом, милое серое небо, моросящий дождь, промокшие извозчики. 最后到了涅瓦大街、大莫尔斯克亚街,然后是科文斯基广场,那是他学生时代曾经住过的地方,那里有可爱的灰色天空、细雨和浑身湿透的出租车司机。 "Ivan Andreitch!" “伊凡·安德烈伊奇!” some one called from the next room. 隔壁房间有人喊道。 "Are you at home?" "I'm here," Laevsky responded. “我在这里,”拉耶夫斯基回答道。 "What do you want?" "Papers." Laevsky got up languidly, feeling giddy, walked into the other room, yawning and shuffling with his slippers. Laevsky se levantó lánguidamente, sintiéndose mareado, caminó hacia la otra habitación, bostezando y arrastrando los pies con sus pantuflas. Laevsky levantou-se languidamente, sentindo-se tonto, entrou no outro quarto, bocejando e arrastando os chinelos. 拉耶夫斯基懒洋洋地站起来,感觉头晕目眩,走进另一个房间,打着哈欠,拖着拖鞋走路。 There, at the open window that looked into the street, stood one of his young fellow-clerks, laying out some government documents on the window-sill. 那里,在面向街道的敞开的窗户旁边,站着他的一位年轻同事,正在窗台上摊放一些政府文件。

"One minute, my dear fellow," Laevsky said softly, and he went to look for the ink; returning to the window, he signed the papers without looking at them, and said: "It's hot!" “等一下,我的朋友,”拉耶甫斯基温和地说,然后出去找墨水,又回到窗前,看也没看就在文件上签了字,说道:“太烫了!” "Yes. Are you coming to-day?" "I don't think so. I'm not quite well. Tell Sheshkovsky that I will come and see him after dinner." 告诉谢什科夫斯基,晚饭后我会来看他。” The clerk went away. Laevsky lay down on his sofa again and began thinking: 拉耶甫斯基又躺到沙发上,开始思考:

"And so I must weigh all the circumstances and reflect on them. “因此,我必须权衡所有情况并进行反思。 Before I go away from here I ought to pay up my debts. 在我离开这里之前我应该还清我的债务。 I owe about two thousand roubles. 我欠了大约两千卢布。 I have no money. 我没钱。 Of course, that's not important; I shall pay part now, somehow, and I shall send the rest, later, from Petersburg. 当然,这并不重要;我现在就想办法付一部分,其余的稍后再从彼得堡寄过来。 The chief point is Nadyezhda Fyodorovna. 重点是娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜。 First of all we must define our relations. 首先我们必须明确我们的关系。 Yes." 是的。” A little later he was considering whether it would not be better to go to Samoylenko for advice. 过了一会儿,他又考虑是否最好去找萨莫伊连科征求意见。

"I might go," he thought, "but what use would there be in it? “我可能会去,”他想,“但那有什么用呢? I shall only say something inappropriate about boudoirs, about women, about what is honest or dishonest. Direi apenas algo inapropriado sobre boudoirs, sobre mulheres, sobre o que é honesto ou desonesto. 我只会说一些关于闺房、关于女人、关于诚实和不诚实的不恰当的事情。 What's the use of talking about what is honest or dishonest, if I must make haste to save my life, if I am suffocating in this cursed slavery and am killing myself? 如果我必须赶紧挽救我的生命,如果我在这种可恶的奴役下窒息而死,那么谈论诚实或不诚实有什么用呢? One must realise at last that to go on leading the life I do is something so base and so cruel that everything else seems petty and trivial beside it. 人们最终必须认识到,继续过我这样的生活是如此卑鄙和残忍,与它相比,其他一切都显得微不足道和微不足道。 To run away," he muttered, sitting down, "to run away." 逃跑,”他坐下来,嘟囔着,“逃跑。” The deserted seashore, the insatiable heat, and the monotony of the smoky lilac mountains, ever the same and silent, everlastingly solitary, overwhelmed him with depression, and, as it were, made him drowsy and sapped his energy. A praia deserta, o calor insaciável e a monotonia das montanhas lilases esfumadas, sempre iguais e silenciosas, eternamente solitárias, abatiam-no e, por assim dizer, adormeciam-no e minavam-lhe as energias. 荒凉的海滨,难以忍受的酷热,以及烟雾弥漫的淡紫色山脉的单调,永远千篇一律、沉寂无声,永远孤独,这些都使他感到沮丧,让他昏昏欲睡,消耗着他的精力。 He was perhaps very clever, talented, remarkably honest; perhaps if the sea and the mountains had not closed him in on all sides, he might have become an excellent Zemstvo leader, a statesman, an orator, a political writer, a saint. 他或许非常聪明,才华横溢,非常诚实;如果不是大海和高山将他包围,也许他可能会成为一名出色的地方自治会领袖、政治家、演说家、政治作家和圣人。 Who knows? If so, was it not stupid to argue whether it were honest or dishonest when a gifted and useful man—an artist or musician, for instance—to escape from prison, breaks a wall and deceives his jailers? Se assim fosse, não seria estúpido discutir se seria honesto ou desonesto quando um homem talentoso e útil - um artista ou músico, por exemplo - para escapar da prisão, quebra uma parede e engana os seus carcereiros? 如果真是这样,那么当一个有天赋、有用的人——比如艺术家或音乐家——为了越狱、打破墙壁并欺骗狱卒时,争论这是诚实还是不诚实,不是很愚蠢吗? Anything is honest when a man is in such a position.

At two o'clock Laevsky and Nadyezhda Fyodorovna sat down to dinner. 下午两点钟,拉耶甫斯基和娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜坐下来吃饭。 When the cook gave them rice and tomato soup, Laevsky said: 当厨师给他们端来米饭和番茄汤时,拉耶夫斯基说道:

"The same thing every day. Why not have cabbage soup?" "There are no cabbages." "It's strange. Samoylenko has cabbage soup and Marya Konstantinovna has cabbage soup, and only I am obliged to eat this mawkish mess. 萨莫依连科喝白菜汤,玛丽亚·康斯坦丁诺芙娜喝白菜汤,只有我不得不喝这道令人作呕的汤。 We can't go on like this, darling." As is common with the vast majority of husbands and wives, not a single dinner had in earlier days passed without scenes and fault-finding between Nadyezhda Fyodorovna and Laevsky; but ever since Laevsky had made up his mind that he did not love her, he had tried to give way to Nadyezhda Fyodorovna in everything, spoke to her gently and politely, smiled, and called her "darling." 象大多数丈夫和妻子一样,以前,娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜和拉耶甫斯基之间,每顿饭前总会吵架、互相指责;但是,自从拉耶甫斯基打定主意不爱她以后,他就力求在各方面都向娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜让步,对她说话温和有礼,面带微笑,称呼她为“亲爱的”。 "This soup tastes like liquorice," he said, smiling; he made an effort to control himself and seem amiable, but could not refrain from saying: "Nobody looks after the housekeeping. ||||regaliz|||||||||||||||||||||||| “这汤尝起来像甘草,”他笑着说;他努力控制自己,显得和蔼可亲,但还是忍不住说:“没人管家。 If you are too ill or busy with reading, let me look after the cooking." 如果你病得太重或者忙于读书,就让我来做饭吧。” In earlier days she would have said to him, "Do by all means," or, "I see you want to turn me into a cook"; but now she only looked at him timidly and flushed crimson. En días anteriores, ella le habría dicho: "Hazlo por todos los medios", o "Veo que quieres convertirme en cocinero"; pero ahora ella solo lo miró tímidamente y se sonrojó. 要是在以前,她肯定会对他说:“当然可以”,或者“我看你是想把我变成厨师”;可现在,她只是羞涩地看着他,脸红了。 "Well, how do you feel to-day?" “那么,你今天感觉怎么样?” he asked kindly. 他亲切地问道。

"I am all right to-day. “我今天还好。” There is nothing but a little weakness." 除了有点虚弱之外,没什么。” "You must take care of yourself, darling. “你必须照顾好自己,亲爱的。 I am awfully anxious about you." 我真为你担心。” Nadyezhda Fyodorovna was ill in some way. 娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜身体有些不舒服。 Samoylenko said she had intermittent fever, and gave her quinine; the other doctor, Ustimovitch, a tall, lean, unsociable man, who used to sit at home in the daytime, and in the evenings walk slowly up and down on the sea-front coughing, with his hands folded behind him and a cane stretched along his back, was of opinion that she had a female complaint, and prescribed warm compresses. 萨莫依连科说她间歇性发烧,给她开了奎宁;另一个医生,乌斯季莫维奇,一个又高又瘦、性格孤僻的人,他白天总是坐在家里,晚上则在海滨慢慢地走来走去,一边咳嗽,一边把双手交叉放在身后,背上拄着拐杖,他认为她患的是妇科病,于是给她开了热敷药。 In old days, when Laevsky loved her, Nadyezhda Fyodorovna's illness had excited his pity and terror; now he saw falsity even in her illness. 以前,当拉耶甫斯基爱着她的时候,娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜的病曾引起他的怜悯和恐惧;现在,甚至在她的病里,他也看出了虚伪。 Her yellow, sleepy face, her lustreless eyes, her apathetic expression, and the yawning that always followed her attacks of fever, and the fact that during them she lay under a shawl and looked more like a boy than a woman, and that it was close and stuffy in her room—all this, in his opinion, destroyed the illusion and was an argument against love and marriage. 她那张蜡黄的、睡眼惺忪的脸,她那双毫无光彩的眼睛,她那冷漠的表情,发烧时总是打哈欠,发烧时她总是躺在披肩下面,看上去更像个男孩而不是女人,她的房间里又闷又闷——所有这一切,在他看来,摧毁了幻想,是反对爱情和婚姻的理由。

The next dish given him was spinach with hard-boiled eggs, while Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, as an invalid, had jelly and milk. ||||||||||||||||enferma|||| O prato seguinte foi espinafres com ovos cozidos, enquanto Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, por ser inválida, comeu geleia e leite. 给他的下一道菜是菠菜和煮鸡蛋,而身为病人的娜杰日达·费奥多罗芙娜则吃了果冻和牛奶。 When with a preoccupied face she touched the jelly with a spoon and then began languidly eating it, sipping milk, and he heard her swallowing, he was possessed by such an overwhelming aversion that it made his head tingle. 当她一脸心不在焉地用勺子碰了碰果冻,然后开始懒洋洋地吃起来,喝着牛奶,他听着她吞咽的声音,心里涌起一种强烈的厌恶感,头都麻了。 He recognised that such a feeling would be an insult even to a dog, but he was angry, not with himself but with Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, for arousing such a feeling, and he understood why lovers sometimes murder their mistresses. 他认识到,这种感觉甚至对一条狗来说都是一种侮辱,但他很生气,不是生自己的气,而是生娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜的气,因为她激起了他这种感觉,他也理解为什么情人有时会谋杀他们的情妇。 He would not murder her, of course, but if he had been on a jury now, he would have acquitted the murderer. Ele não a mataria, claro, mas se estivesse agora num júri, teria absolvido o assassino. 当然,他不会谋杀她,但如果他现在是陪审团成员,他会宣告凶手无罪。

"Merci, darling," he said after dinner, and kissed Nadyezhda Fyodorovna on the forehead. “谢谢,亲爱的,”晚饭后他说,并亲吻了娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜的额头。 Going back into his study, he spent five minutes in walking to and fro, looking at his boots; then he sat down on his sofa and muttered: 他回到书房,来回走了五分钟,看着自己的靴子,然后坐在沙发上嘟囔道:

"Run away, run away! We must define the position and run away!" He lay down on the sofa and recalled again that Nadyezhda Fyodorovna's husband had died, perhaps, by his fault. 他躺在沙发上,又想起娜杰日达·费多罗芙娜的丈夫也许是因他而死的。 "To blame a man for loving a woman, or ceasing to love a woman, is stupid," he persuaded himself, lying down and raising his legs in order to put on his high boots. “责怪一个男人爱上一个女人,或者不再爱一个女人,都是愚蠢的,”他说服自己,躺下并抬起双腿,以便穿上高筒靴。 "Love and hatred are not under our control. “爱与恨并不在我们的掌控之中。 As for her husband, maybe I was in an indirect way one of the causes of his death; but again, is it my fault that I fell in love with his wife and she with me?" 至于她的丈夫,也许我是间接导致他死亡的原因之一;但话又说回来,我爱上了他的妻子,而她也爱上了我,这是我的错吗?” Then he got up, and finding his cap, set off to the lodgings of his colleague, Sheshkovsky, where the Government clerks met every day to play vint and drink beer. Luego se levantó y, buscando su gorra, se dirigió al alojamiento de su colega Sheshkovsky, donde los empleados del Gobierno se reunían todos los días para jugar a la quiniela y beber cerveza. 然后他站起来,找到自己的帽子,出发前往他的同事谢什科夫斯基的住处,政府职员每天都会在那里聚会,打牌、喝啤酒。

"My indecision reminds me of Hamlet," thought Laevsky on the way. “我的优柔寡断使我想起哈姆雷特,”拉耶甫斯基在路上想道。 "How truly Shakespeare describes it! “莎士比亚对此的描述多么真实! Ah, how truly!"