The non-existent but apparent vista2 of a long, narrow corridor with endless rows of candles, the reflection of her face, her hands, of the frame—all this was already clouded in mist and merged3 into a boundless4 grey sea. The sea was undulating, gleaming and now and then flaring5 crimson6. . . .
Looking at Nellie’s motionless eyes and parted lips, one could hardly say whether she was asleep or awake, but nevertheless she was seeing. At first she saw only the smile and soft, charming expression of someone’s eyes, then against the shifting grey background there gradually appeared the outlines of a head, a face, eyebrows7, beard. It was he, the destined8 one, the object of long dreams and hopes. The destined one was for Nellie everything, the significance of life, personal happiness, career, fate. Outside him, as on the grey background of the looking-glass, all was dark, empty, meaningless. And so it was not strange that, seeing before her a handsome, gently smiling face, she was conscious of bliss9, of an unutterably sweet dream that could not be expressed in speech or on paper. Then she heard his voice, saw herself living under the same roof with him, her life merged into his. Months and years flew by against the grey background. And Nellie saw her future distinctly in all its details.
Picture followed picture against the grey background. Now Nellie saw herself one winter night knocking at the door of Stepan Lukitch, the district doctor. The old dog hoarsely10 and lazily barked behind the gate. The doctor’s windows were in darkness. All was silence.
“For God’s sake, for God’s sake!” whispered Nellie.
But at last the garden gate creaked and Nellie saw the doctor’s cook.
“Is the doctor at home?”
“His honour’s asleep,” whispered the cook into her sleeve, as though afraid of waking her master.
“He’s only just got home from his fever patients, and gave orders he was not to be waked.”
But Nellie scarcely heard the cook. Thrusting her aside, she rushed headlong into the doctor’s house. Running through some dark and stuffy11 rooms, upsetting two or three chairs, she at last reached the doctor’s bedroom. Stepan Lukitch was lying on his bed, dressed, but without his coat, and with pouting12 lips was breathing into his open hand. A little night-light glimmered13 faintly beside him. Without uttering a word Nellie sat down and began to cry. She wept bitterly, shaking all over.
“My husband is ill!” she sobbed14 out. Stepan Lukitch was silent. He slowly sat up, propped15 his head on his hand, and looked at his visitor with fixed16, sleepy eyes. “My husband is ill!” Nellie continued, restraining her sobs17. “For mercy’s sake come quickly. Make haste. . . . Make haste!”
“Eh?” growled18 the doctor, blowing into his hand.
“Come! Come this very minute! Or . . . it’s terrible to think! For mercy’s sake!”
And pale, exhausted Nellie, gasping19 and swallowing her tears, began describing to the doctor her husband’s illness, her unutterable terror. Her sufferings would have touched the heart of a stone, but the doctor looked at her, blew into his open hand, and—not a movement.
“I’ll come to-morrow!” he muttered.
“That’s impossible!” cried Nellie. “I know my husband has typhus! At once . . . this very minute you are needed!”
“I . . . er . . . have only just come in,” muttered the doctor. “For the last three days I’ve been away, seeing typhus patients, and I’m exhausted and ill myself. . . . I simply can’t! Absolutely! I’ve caught it myself! There!”
And the doctor thrust before her eyes a clinical thermometer.
“My temperature is nearly forty. . . . I absolutely can’t. I can scarcely sit up. Excuse me. I’ll lie down. . . .”
The doctor lay down.
“But I implore20 you, doctor,” Nellie moaned in despair. “I beseech21 you! Help me, for mercy’s sake! Make a great effort and come! I will repay you, doctor!”
“Oh, dear! . . . Why, I have told you already. Ah!”
Nellie leapt up and walked nervously22 up and down the bedroom. She longed to explain to the doctor, to bring him to reason. . . . She thought if only he knew how dear her husband was to her and how unhappy she was, he would forget his exhaustion23 and his illness. But how could she be eloquent24 enough?
“Go to the Zemstvo doctor,” she heard Stepan Lukitch’s voice.
“That’s impossible! He lives more than twenty miles from here, and time is precious. And the horses can’t stand it. It is thirty miles from us to you, and as much from here to the Zemstvo doctor. No, it’s impossible! Come along, Stepan Lukitch. I ask of you an heroic deed. Come, perform that heroic deed! Have pity on us!”
“It’s beyond everything. . . . I’m in a fever . . . my head’s in a whirl . . . and she won’t understand! Leave me alone!”
“But you are in duty bound to come! You cannot refuse to come! It’s egoism! A man is bound to sacrifice his life for his neighbour, and you . . . you refuse to come! I will summon you before the Court.”
Nellie felt that she was uttering a false and undeserved insult, but for her husband’s sake she was capable of forgetting logic25, tact26, sympathy for others. . . . In reply to her threats, the doctor greedily gulped27 a glass of cold water. Nellie fell to entreating28 and imploring29 like the very lowest beggar. . . . At last the doctor gave way. He slowly got up, puffing30 and panting, looking for his coat.
“Here it is!” cried Nellie, helping31 him. “Let me put it on to you. Come along! I will repay you. . . . All my life I shall be grateful to you. . . .”
But what agony! After putting on his coat the doctor lay down again. Nellie got him up and dragged him to the hall. Then there was an agonizing32 to-do over his goloshes, his overcoat. . . . His cap was lost. . . . But at last Nellie was in the carriage with the doctor. Now they had only to drive thirty miles and her husband would have a doctor’s help. The earth was wrapped in darkness. One could not see one’s hand before one’s face. . . . A cold winter wind was blowing. There were frozen lumps under their wheels. The coachman was continually stopping and wondering which road to take.
Nellie and the doctor sat silent all the way. It was fearfully jolting33, but they felt neither the cold nor the jolts34.
“Get on, get on!” Nellie implored35 the driver.
At five in the morning the exhausted horses drove into the yard. Nellie saw the familiar gates, the well with the crane, the long row of stables and barns. At last she was at home.
“Wait a moment, I will be back directly,” she said to Stepan Lukitch, making him sit down on the sofa in the dining-room. “Sit still and wait a little, and I’ll see how he is going on.”
On her return from her husband, Nellie found the doctor lying down. He was lying on the sofa and muttering.
“Doctor, please! . . . doctor!”
“Eh? Ask Domna!” muttered Stepan Lukitch.
“What?”
“They said at the meeting . . . Vlassov said . . . Who? . . . what?”
And to her horror Nellie saw that the doctor was as delirious36 as her husband. What was to be done?
“I must go for the Zemstvo doctor,” she decided37.
Then again there followed darkness, a cutting cold wind, lumps of frozen earth. She was suffering in body and in soul, and delusive38 nature has no arts, no deceptions39 to compensate40 these sufferings. . . .
Then she saw against the grey background how her husband every spring was in straits for money to pay the interest for the mortgage to the bank. He could not sleep, she could not sleep, and both racked their brains till their heads ached, thinking how to avoid being visited by the clerk of the Court.
She saw her children: the everlasting41 apprehension42 of colds, scarlet43 fever, diphtheria, bad marks at school, separation. Out of a brood of five or six one was sure to die.
The grey background was not untouched by death. That might well be. A husband and wife cannot die simultaneously44. Whatever happened one must bury the other. And Nellie saw her husband dying. This terrible event presented itself to her in every detail. She saw the coffin45, the candles, the deacon, and even the footmarks in the hall made by the undertaker.
“Why is it, what is it for?” she asked, looking blankly at her husband’s face.
And all the previous life with her husband seemed to her a stupid prelude46 to this.
Something fell from Nellie’s hand and knocked on the floor. She started, jumped up, and opened her eyes wide. One looking-glass she saw lying at her feet. The other was standing47 as before on the table.
She looked into the looking-glass and saw a pale, tear-stained face. There was no grey background now.
“I must have fallen asleep,” she thought with a sigh of relief.
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1
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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7
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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8
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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pouting
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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19
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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beseech
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| v.祈求，恳求 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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entreating
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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agonizing
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| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
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jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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jolts
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的名词复数 ) | |
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35
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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delusive
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| adj.欺骗的，妄想的 | |
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39
deceptions
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| 欺骗( deception的名词复数 )； 骗术，诡计 | |
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40
compensate
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| vt.补偿，赔偿；酬报 vi.弥补；补偿；抵消 | |
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41
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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42
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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43
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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44
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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45
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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46
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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