How a Reconciliation1 was Sought to Be Effected and a Law Suit Ensued
“Ah! how do you do? Why do you irritate the dogs?” said Ivan Nikiforovitch, on perceiving Anton Prokofievitch; for no one spoke2 otherwise than jestingly with Anton Prokofievitch.
“Hang them! who’s been irritating them?” retorted Anton Prokofievitch.
“You have!”
“By Heavens, no! You are invited to dinner by Peter Feodorovitch.”
“Hm!”
“He invited you in a more pressing manner than I can tell you. ‘Why,’ says he, ‘does Ivan Nikiforovitch shun3 me like an enemy? He never comes round to have a chat, or make a call.’”
Ivan Nikiforovitch stroked his beard.
“‘If,’ says he, ‘Ivan Nikiforovitch does not come now, I shall not know what to think: surely, he must have some design against me. Pray, Anton Prokofievitch, persuade Ivan Nikiforovitch!’ Come, Ivan Nikiforovitch, let us go! a very choice company is already met there.”
Ivan Nikiforovitch began to look at a cock, which was perched on the roof, crowing with all its might.
“If you only knew, Ivan Nikiforovitch,” pursued the zealous4 ambassador, “what fresh sturgeon and caviare Peter Feodorovitch has had sent to him!” Whereupon Ivan Nikiforovitch turned his head and began to listen attentively5. This encouraged the messenger. “Come quickly: Thoma Grigorovitch is there too. Why don’t you come?” he added, seeing that Ivan Nikiforovitch still lay in the same position. “Shall we go, or not?”
“I won’t!”
This “I won’t” startled Anton Prokofievitch. He had fancied that his alluring6 representations had quite moved this very worthy7 man; but instead, he heard that decisive “I won’t.”
“Why won’t you?” he asked, with a vexation which he very rarely exhibited, even when they put burning paper on his head, a trick which the judge and the chief of police were particularly fond of indulging in.
Ivan Nikiforovitch took a pinch of snuff.
“Just as you like, Ivan Nikiforovitch. I do not know what detains you.”
“Why don’t I go?” said Ivan Nikiforovitch at length: “because that brigand8 will be there!” This was his ordinary way of alluding9 to Ivan Ivanovitch. “Just God! and is it long?”
“He will not be there, he will not be there! May the lightning kill me on the spot!” returned Anton Prokofievitch, who was ready to perjure10 himself ten times in an hour. “Come along, Ivan Nikiforovitch!”
“You lie, Anton Prokofievitch! he is there!”
“By Heaven, by Heaven, he’s not! May I never stir from this place if he’s there! Now, just think for yourself, what object have I in lying? May my hands and feet wither11!— What, don’t you believe me now? May I perish right here in your presence! Don’t you believe me yet?”
Ivan Nikiforovitch was entirely12 reassured13 by these asseverations, and ordered his valet, in the boundless14 coat, to fetch his trousers and nankeen spencer.
To describe how Ivan Nikiforovitch put on his trousers, how they wound his neckerchief about his neck, and finally dragged on his spencer, which burst under the left sleeve, would be quite superfluous15. Suffice it to say, that during the whole of the time he preserved a becoming calmness of demeanour, and answered not a word to Anton Prokofievitch’s proposition to exchange something for his Turkish tobacco-pouch.
Meanwhile, the assembly awaited with impatience16 the decisive moment when Ivan Nikiforovitch should make his appearance and at length comply with the general desire that these worthy people should be reconciled to each other. Many were almost convinced that Ivan Nikiforovitch would not come. Even the chief of police offered to bet with one-eyed Ivan Ivanovitch that he would not come; and only desisted when one-eyed Ivan Ivanovitch demanded that he should wager18 his lame19 foot against his own bad eye, at which the chief of police was greatly offended, and the company enjoyed a quiet laugh. No one had yet sat down to the table, although it was long past two o’clock, an hour before which in Mirgorod, even on ceremonial occasions, every one had already dined.
No sooner did Anton Prokofievitch show himself in the doorway20, then he was instantly surrounded. Anton Prokofievitch, in answer to all inquiries21, shouted the all-decisive words, “He will not come!” No sooner had he uttered them than a hailstorm of reproaches, scoldings, and, possibly, even fillips were about to descend22 upon his head for the ill success of his mission, when all at once the door opened, and — Ivan Nikiforovitch entered.
If Satan himself or a corpse23 had appeared, it would not have caused such consternation24 amongst the company as Ivan Nikiforovitch’s unexpected arrival created. But Anton Prokofievitch only went off into a fit of laughter, and held his sides with delight at having played such a joke upon the company.
At all events, it was almost past the belief of all that Ivan Nikiforovitch could, in so brief a space of time, have attired25 himself like a respectable gentleman. Ivan Ivanovitch was not there at the moment: he had stepped out somewhere. Recovering from their amazement26, the guests expressed an interest in Ivan Nikiforovitch’s health, and their pleasure at his increase in breadth. Ivan Nikiforovitch kissed every one, and said, “Very much obliged!”
Meantime, the fragrance27 of the beet-soup was wafted28 through the apartment, and tickled29 the nostrils30 of the hungry guests very agreeably. All rushed headlong to table. The line of ladies, loquacious31 and silent, thin and stout32, swept on, and the long table soon glittered with all the hues34 of the rainbow. I will not describe the courses: I will make no mention of the curd35 dumplings with sour cream, nor of the dish of pig’s fry that was served with the soup, nor of the turkey with plums and raisins36, nor of the dish which greatly resembled in appearance a boot soaked in kvas, nor of the sauce, which is the swan’s song of the old-fashioned cook, nor of that other dish which was brought in all enveloped37 in the flames of spirit, and amused as well as frightened the ladies extremely. I will say nothing of these dishes, because I like to eat them better than to spend many words in discussing them.
Ivan Ivanovitch was exceedingly pleased with the fish dressed with horse-radish. He devoted38 himself especially to this useful and nourishing preparation. Picking out all the fine bones from the fish, he laid them on his plate; and happening to glance across the table — Heavenly Creator; but this was strange! Opposite him sat Ivan Nikiforovitch.
At the very same instant Ivan Nikiforovitch glanced up also — No, I can do no more — Give me a fresh pen with a fine point for this picture! mine is flabby. Their faces seemed to turn to stone whilst still retaining their defiant39 expression. Each beheld40 a long familiar face, to which it should have seemed the most natural of things to step up, involuntarily, as to an unexpected friend, and offer a snuff-box, with the words, “Do me the favour,” or “Dare I beg you to do me the favour?” Instead of this, that face was terrible as a forerunner41 of evil. The perspiration42 poured in streams from Ivan Ivanovitch and Ivan Nikiforovitch.
All the guests at the table grew dumb with attention, and never once took their eyes off the former friends. The ladies, who had been busy up to that time on a sufficiently43 interesting discussion as to the preparation of capons, suddenly cut their conversation short. All was silence. It was a picture worthy of the brush of a great artist.
At length Ivan Ivanovitch pulled out his handkerchief and began to blow his nose; whilst Ivan Nikiforovitch glanced about and his eye rested on the open door. The chief of police at once perceived this movement, and ordered the door to be fastened. Then both of the friends began to eat, and never once glanced at each other again.
As soon as dinner was over, the two former friends both rose from their seats, and began to look for their hats, with a view to departure. Then the chief beckoned44; and Ivan Ivanovitch — not our Ivan Ivanovitch, but the other with the one eye — got behind Ivan Nikiforovitch, and the chief stepped behind Ivan Ivanovitch, and the two began to drag them backwards45, in order to bring them together, and not release them till they had shaken hands with each other. Ivan Ivanovitch, the one-eyed, pushed Ivan Nikiforovitch, with tolerable success, towards the spot where stood Ivan Ivanovitch. But the chief of police directed his course too much to one side, because he could not steer46 himself with his refractory47 leg, which obeyed no orders whatever on this occasion, and, as if with malice48 and aforethought, swung itself uncommonly49 far, and in quite the contrary direction, possibly from the fact that there had been an unusual amount of fruit wine after dinner, so that Ivan Ivanovitch fell over a lady in a red gown, who had thrust herself into the very midst, out of curiosity.
Such an omen17 forboded no good. Nevertheless, the judge, in order to set things to rights, took the chief of police’s place, and, sweeping50 all the snuff from his upper lip with his nose, pushed Ivan Ivanovitch in the opposite direction. In Mirgorod this is the usual manner of effecting a reconciliation: it somewhat resembles a game of ball. As soon as the judge pushed Ivan Ivanovitch, Ivan Ivanovitch with the one eye exerted all his strength, and pushed Ivan Nikiforovitch, from whom the perspiration streamed like rain-water from a roof. In spite of the fact that the friends resisted to the best of their ability, they were nevertheless brought together, for the two chief movers received reinforcements from the ranks of their guests.
Then they were closely surrounded on all sides, not to be released until they had decided51 to give one another their hands. “God be with you, Ivan Nikiforovitch and Ivan Ivanovitch! declare upon your honour now, that what you quarrelled about were mere52 trifles, were they not? Are you not ashamed of yourselves before people and before God?”
“I do not know,” said Ivan Nikiforovitch, panting with fatigue53, though it is to be observed that he was not at all disinclined to a reconciliation, “I do not know what I did to Ivan Ivanovitch; but why did he destroy my coop and plot against my life?”
“I am innocent of any evil designs!” said Ivan Ivanovitch, never looking at Ivan Nikiforovitch. “I swear before God and before you, honourable54 noblemen, I did nothing to my enemy! Why does he calumniate55 me and insult my rank and family?”
“How have I insulted you, Ivan Ivanovitch?” said Ivan Nikiforovitch. One moment more of explanation, and the long enmity would have been extinguished. Ivan Nikiforovitch was already feeling in his pocket for his snuff-box, and was about to say, “Do me the favour.”
“Is it not an insult,” answered Ivan Ivanovitch, without raising his eyes, “when you, my dear sir, insulted my honour and my family with a word which it is improper56 to repeat here?”
“Permit me to observe, in a friendly manner, Ivan Ivanovitch,” here Ivan Nikiforovitch touched Ivan Ivanovitch’s button with his finger, which clearly indicated the disposition57 of his mind, “that you took offence, the deuce only knows at what, because I called you a ‘goose’—”
It occurred to Ivan Nikiforovitch that he had made a mistake in uttering that word; but it was too late: the word was said. Everything went to the winds. It, on the utterance58 of this word without witnesses, Ivan Ivanovitch lost control of himself and flew into such a passion as God preserve us from beholding59 any man in, what was to be expected now? I put it to you, dear readers, what was to be expected now, when the fatal word was uttered in an assemblage of persons among whom were ladies, in whose presence Ivan Ivanovitch liked to be particularly polite? If Ivan Nikiforovitch had set to work in any other manner, if he had only said bird and not goose, it might still have been arranged, but all was at an end.
He gave one look at Ivan Nikiforovitch, but such a look! If that look had possessed61 active power, then it would have turned Ivan Nikiforovitch into dust. The guests understood the look and hastened to separate them. And this man, the very model of gentleness, who never let a single poor woman go by without interrogating62 her, rushed out in a fearful rage. Such violent storms do passions produce!
For a whole month nothing was heard of Ivan Ivanovitch. He shut himself up at home. His ancestral chest was opened, and from it were taken silver rubles, his grandfather’s old silver rubles! And these rubles passed into the ink-stained hands of legal advisers63. The case was sent up to the higher court; and when Ivan Ivanovitch received the joyful64 news that it would be decided on the morrow, then only did he look out upon the world and resolve to emerge from his house. Alas65! from that time forth66 the council gave notice day by day that the case would be finished on the morrow, for the space of ten years.
Five years ago, I passed through the town of Mirgorod. I came at a bad time. It was autumn, with its damp, melancholy67 weather, mud and mists. An unnatural68 verdure, the result of incessant69 rains, covered with a watery70 network the fields and meadows, to which it is as well suited as youthful pranks71 to an old man, or roses to an old woman. The weather made a deep impression on me at the time: when it was dull, I was dull; but in spite of this, when I came to pass through Mirgorod, my heart beat violently. God, what reminiscences! I had not seen Mirgorod for twenty years. Here had lived, in touching72 friendship, two inseparable friends. And how many prominent people had died! Judge Demyan Demyanovitch was already gone: Ivan Ivanovitch, with the one eye, had long ceased to live.
I entered the main street. All about stood poles with bundles of straw on top: some alterations73 were in progress. Several dwellings74 had been removed. The remnants of board and wattled fences projected sadly here and there. It was a festival day. I ordered my basket chaise to stop in front of the church, and entered softly that no one might turn round. To tell the truth, there was no need of this: the church was almost empty; there were very few people; it was evident that even the most pious75 feared the mud. The candles seemed strangely unpleasant in that gloomy, or rather sickly, light. The dim vestibule was melancholy; the long windows, with their circular panes76, were bedewed with tears of rain. I retired77 into the vestibule, and addressing a respectable old man, with greyish hair, said, “May I inquire if Ivan Nikiforovitch is still living?”
At that moment the lamp before the holy picture burned up more brightly and the light fell directly upon the face of my companion. What was my surprise, on looking more closely, to behold60 features with which I was acquainted! It was Ivan Nikiforovitch himself! But how he had changed!
“Are you well, Ivan Nikiforovitch? How old you have grown!”
“Yes, I have grown old. I have just come from Poltava to-day,” answered Ivan Nikiforovitch.
“You don’t say so! you have been to Poltava in such bad weather?”
“What was to be done? that lawsuit78 —”
At this I sighed involuntarily.
Ivan Nikiforovitch observed my sigh, and said, “Do not be troubled: I have reliable information that the case will be decided next week, and in my favour.”
I shrugged79 my shoulders, and went to seek news of Ivan Ivanovitch.
“Ivan Ivanovitch is here,” some one said to me, “in the choir80.”
I saw a gaunt form. Was that Ivan Ivanovitch? His face was covered with wrinkles, his hair was perfectly81 white; but the pelisse was the same as ever. After the first greetings were over, Ivan Ivanovitch, turning to me with a joyful smile which always became his funnel-shaped face, said, “Have you been told the good news?”
“What news?” I inquired.
“My case is to be decided to-morrow without fail: the court has announced it decisively.”
I sighed more deeply than before, made haste to take my leave, for I was bound on very important business, and seated myself in my kibitka.
The lean nags82 known in Mirgorod as post-horses started, producing with their hoofs83, which were buried in a grey mass of mud, a sound very displeasing84 to the ear. The rain poured in torrents85 upon the Jew seated on the box, covered with a rug. The dampness penetrated86 through and through me. The gloomy barrier with a sentry-box, in which an old soldier was repairing his weapons, was passed slowly. Again the same fields, in some places black where they had been dug up, in others of a greenish hue33; wet daws and crows; monotonous87 rain; a tearful sky, without one gleam of light! . . . It is gloomy in this world, gentlemen!
The End
收听单词发音 |
1
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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brigand
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| n.土匪，强盗 | |
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alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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10
perjure
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| v.作伪证；使发假誓 | |
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wither
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| vt.使凋谢，使衰退，(用眼神气势等)使畏缩；vi.枯萎，衰退，消亡 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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14
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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loquacious
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| adj.多嘴的，饶舌的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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curd
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| n.凝乳；凝乳状物 | |
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raisins
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| n.葡萄干( raisin的名词复数 ) | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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forerunner
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| n.前身，先驱（者），预兆，祖先 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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47
refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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48
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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49
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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50
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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51
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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52
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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53
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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54
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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calumniate
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| v.诬蔑，中伤 | |
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56
improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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59
beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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60
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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61
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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62
interrogating
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| n.询问技术v.询问( interrogate的现在分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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63
advisers
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| 顾问，劝告者( adviser的名词复数 )； （指导大学新生学科问题等的）指导教授 | |
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64
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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67
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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68
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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69
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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70
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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71
pranks
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| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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72
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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73
alterations
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| n.改动( alteration的名词复数 )；更改；变化；改变 | |
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dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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75
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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76
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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77
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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78
lawsuit
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| n.诉讼，控诉 | |
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79
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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80
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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81
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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82
nags
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| n.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的名词复数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的第三人称单数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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83
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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84
displeasing
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| 不愉快的，令人发火的 | |
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85
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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86
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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87
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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