BORIS had not succeeded in marrying a wealthy heiress in Petersburg, and it was with that object that he had come to Moscow. In Moscow Boris found himself hesitating between two of the wealthiest heiresses,— Julie and Princess Marya. Though Princess Marya, in spite of her plainness, seemed to him anyway more attractive than Julie, he felt vaguely awkward in paying court to the former. In his last conversation with her, on the old prince's name-day, she had met all his attempts to talk of the emotions with irrelevant replies, and had obviously not heard what he was saying.

Julie, on the contrary, received his attentions eagerly, though she showed it in a peculiar fashion of her own.

Julie was seven-and-twenty. By the death of her two brothers she had become extremely wealthy. She had by now become decidedly plain. But she believed herself to be not merely as pretty as ever, but actually far more attractive than she had ever been. She was confirmed in this delusion by having become a very wealthy heiress, and also by the fact that as she grew older her society involved less risk for men, and they could behave with more freedom in their intercourse with her, and could profit by her suppers, her soirées, and the lively society that gathered about her, without incurring any obligations to her. A man who would have been afraid of going ten years before to a house where there was a young girl of seventeen, for fear of compromising her and binding himself, would now boldly visit her every day, and treat her not as a marriageable girl, but as an acquaintance of no sex.

The Karagins' house was that winter one of the most agreeable and hospitable houses in Moscow. In addition to the dinner-parties and soirées, to which guests came by invitation, there were every day large informal gatherings at the Karagins', principally of men, who had supper there at midnight and stayed on till three o'clock in the morning. Julie did not miss a single ball, entertainment, or theatre. Her dresses were always of the most fashionable. But in spite of that, Julie appeared to have lost all illusions, told every one that she had no faith in love or friendship, or any of the joys of life, and looked for consolation only to the realm beyond. She had adopted the tone of a girl who has suffered a great disappointment, a girl who has lost her lover or been cruelly deceived by him. Though nothing of the kind had ever happened to her, she was looked upon as having been disappointed in that way, and she did in fact believe herself that she had suffered a great deal in her life. This melancholy neither hindered her from enjoying herself nor hindered young men from spending their time very agreeably in her society. Every guest who visited at the house paid his tribute to the melancholy temper of the hostess, and then proceeded to enjoy himself in society gossip, dancing, intellectual games, or bouts rimés which were in fashion at the Karagins'. A few young men only, among them Boris, entered more deeply into Julie's melancholy, and with these young men she had more prolonged and secluded conversations on the nothingness of all things earthly, and to them she opened her albums, full of mournful sketches, sentences, and verses.

Julie was particularly gracious to Boris. She deplored his early disillusionment with life, offered him those consolations of friendship she was so well able to offer, having herself suffered so cruelly in life, and opened her album to him. Boris sketched two trees in her album, and wrote under them: “Rustic trees, your gloomy branches shed darkness and melancholy upon me.”

In another place he sketched a tomb and inscribed below it:—

“Death is helpful, and death is tranquil,
Ah, there is no other refuge from sorrow!”
Julie said that couplet was exquisite.

“There is something so ravishing in the smile of melancholy,” she said to Boris, repeating word for word a passage copied from a book. “It is a ray of light in the shadow, a blend between grief and despair, which shows consolation possible.”

Upon that Boris wrote her the following verses in French:—

“Poisonous nourishment of a soul too sensitive,
Thou, without whom happiness would be impossible to me,
Tender melancholy, ah, come and console me,
Come, calm the torments of my gloomy retreat,
And mingle a secret sweetness with the tears I feel flowing.”
Julie played to Boris the most mournful nocturnes on the harp. Boris read aloud to her the romance of Poor Liza, and more than once broke down in reading it from the emotion that choked his utterance. When they met in general society Julie and Boris gazed at one another as though they were the only people existing in the world, disillusioned and comprehending each other.

Anna Mihalovna, who often visited the Karagins, took a hand at cards with the mother, and meanwhile collected trustworthy information as to the portion that Julie would receive on her marriage (her dowry was to consist of two estates in the Penza province and forests in the Nizhnigorod province). With tender emotion and deep resignation to the will of Providence, Anna Mihalovna looked on at the refined sadness that united her soul to the wealthy Julie.

“Still as charming and as melancholy as ever, my sweet Julie,” she would say to the daughter. “Boris says he finds spiritual refreshment in your house. He has suffered such cruel disillusionment, and he is so sensitive,” she would say to the mother.

“Ah, my dear, how attached I have grown to Julie lately,” she would say to her son, “I can't tell you. But, indeed, who could help loving her! A creature not of this earth! Ah, Boris! Boris!” She paused for a moment. “And how I feel for her mother,” she would go on. “She showed me today the letters and accounts from Penza (they have an immense estate there), and she, poor thing, with no one to help her. They do take such advantage of her!”

Boris heard his mother with a faintly perceptible smile. He laughed blandly at her simple-hearted wiles, but he listened to her and sometimes questioned her carefully about the Penza and Nizhnigorod estates.

Julie had long been expecting an offer from her melancholy adorer, and was fully prepared to accept it. But a sort of secret feeling of repulsion for her, for her passionate desire to be married, for her affectation and a feeling of horror at renouncing all possibility of real love made Boris still delay. The term of his leave was drawing to a close. Whole days at a time, and every day he spent at the Karagins'; and each day Boris resolved, as he thought things over, that he would make an offer on the morrow. But in Julie's presence, as he watched her red face and her chin, almost always sprinkled with powder, her moist eyes, and the expression of her countenance, which betokened a continual readiness to pass at once from melancholy to the unnatural ecstasies of conjugal love, Boris could not utter the decisive word, although in imagination he had long regarded himself as the owner of the Penza and Nizhnigorod estates, and had disposed of the expenditure of their several revenues. Julie saw the hesitation of Boris, and the idea did sometimes occur to her that she was distasteful to him. But feminine self-flattery promptly afforded her comfort, and she assured herself that it was love that made him retiring. Her melancholy was, however, beginning to pass into irritability, and not long before the end of Boris's leave she adopted a decisive plan of action. Just before the expiration of Boris's leave there appeared in Moscow, and—it need hardly be said—also in the drawing-room of the Karagins', no less a person than Anatole Kuragin, and Julie, abruptly abandoning her melancholy, became exceedingly lively and cordial to Kuragin.

“My dear,” said Anna Mihalovna to her son, “I know from a trust-worthy source that Prince Vassily is sending his son to Moscow to marry him to Julie. I am so fond of Julie that I should be most sorry for her. What do you think about it, my dear?” said Anna Mihalovna.

Boris was mortified at the idea of being unsuccessful, of having wasted all that month of tedious, melancholy courtship of Julie, and of seeing all the revenues of those Penza estates—which he had mentally assigned to the various purposes for which he needed them—pass into other hands, especially into the hands of that fool Anatole. He drove off to the Karagins' with the firm determination to make an offer. Julie met him with a gay and careless face, casually mentioned how much she had enjoyed the ball of the evening, and asked him when he was leaving. Although Boris had come with the intention of speaking of his love, and was therefore resolved to take a tender tone, he began to speak irritably of the fickleness of woman; saying that women could so easily pass from sadness to joy, and their state of mind depended entirely on what sort of man happened to be paying them attention. Julie was offended, and said that that was quite true, indeed, that a woman wanted variety, and that always the same thing would bore any one.

“Then I would advise you…” Boris was beginning, meaning to say something cutting; but at that instant the mortifying reflection occurred to him that he might leave Moscow without having attained his object, and having wasted his efforts in vain (an experience he had never had yet). He stopped short in the middle of a sentence, dropped his eyes, to avoid seeing her disagreeably exasperated and irresolute face, and said, “But it was not to quarrel with you that I have come here. On the contrary…” He glanced at her to make sure whether he could go on. All irritation had instantly vanished from her face, and her uneasy and imploring eyes were fastened upon him in greedy expectation.

“I can always manage so as to see very little of her,” thought Boris. “And the thing's been begun and must be finished!” He flushed crimson, raised his eyes to her face, and said to her, “You know my feeling for you!” There was no need to say more. Julie's countenance beamed with triumph and self-satisfaction; but she forced Boris to say everything that is usually said on such occasions, to say that he loved her, and had never loved any woman more than her. She knew that for her Penza estates and her Nizhnigorod forests she could demand that, and she got all she demanded.

The young engaged couple, with no further allusions to trees that enfolded them in gloom and melancholy, made plans for a brilliant establishment in Petersburg, paid visits, and made every preparation for a splendid wedding.

鲍里斯要在彼得堡娶一个有钱的未婚女子，这件事没有办成。他抱定这种目的抵达莫斯科。在莫斯科，鲍里斯在两个最富有的未婚女子——朱莉和公爵小姐玛丽亚——之间踌躇不前。公爵小姐玛丽亚尽管长得难看，但是他觉得她比朱莉更迷人，他不知为什么不好意思去追求博尔孔斯卡娅。最近在老公爵命名日和她会面时，他试图和她谈情说爱，但是她对他说的话回答得牛头不对马嘴，显然她不想听他说话。

与之相反，朱莉尽管具备有特殊的才能，但是她乐于接受他的追求。

朱莉已经有二十七岁子。她的兄弟相继去世之后，她变得很富有了。她现在根本不漂亮，但是她想到，她不仅长得很好看，而且比从前好看多了。可是，以下两点却使她继续迷惘不解，其一是，她已经成为十分富有的未婚女子；其二是，她年龄越大，男人就认为她显得越可靠，和她交游时不会不承担任何义务，却遭到危险，因而也越发自由。他们都享用她的晚宴和晚会，充分利用在她家里聚会的颇为活跃的上流社会人士。十年前，男人害怕天天登门拜访，因为他们家里有个十七岁的小姐，担心损害她的名誉，同时也不愿意束缚自己，而今每天都可以大胆地去看她了，和她交际时，不把她视为未婚的女子，而把她视为没有性别的熟人。

是冬，卡拉金之家在莫斯科是最令人愉快的、殷勤好客的家庭。除开招待客人的晚会和宴会而外，一大群人，尤其是男人每天在卡拉金家里聚会，深夜十一点多钟，他们进晚餐，在那里坐得太久，坐到两点多钟。舞会呀，游艺会呀，戏剧呀，朱莉不放过每次机会。她的服装总是最时髦的。尽管如此，但是朱莉似乎对一切感到失望，她逢人就说，她既不相信友谊，也不相信爱情，也不相信人生的任何欢乐，她只等待冥府的静谧。她学会了某个大失所望的姑娘的语调，这个姑娘仿佛丧失了心爱的人，或者受到了心爱的人的残酷无情的欺骗。尽管她没有发生这种事情，但是大家还是那样看待她，她自己甚至不相信，她遭受了许多人世的痛苦。这种忧郁的心情并没有妨碍她寻欢作乐，也没有妨碍那些常常到她家里来的青年愉快地消遣。每个经常到他们家里来的客人首先都对女主人的忧郁心情表示敬意，然后才参与文雅的谈话，跳舞，智力游戏以及吟打油诗的比赛，这是卡拉金家中风行一时的游戏。只有几个年轻人，其中包括鲍里斯，更加深入地体会朱莉抑郁寡欢的心情，她跟这些年轻人单独地、更久地谈论尘世的空虚，她打开几本纪念册，给他们看看，上面画满了悲伤的图案，写满了格言和诗句。

朱莉对鲍里斯特别亲切，惋惜他过早地对人生失望，给予他以她所能给予的友情的安慰，而她自己遭受了许多人世的痛苦，她于是向他展开了一本纪念册，给他看看。鲍里斯在纪念册上给她画了两棵树，并且题了词：Arbesrustiques，vossombresrameauxsecouentsurmoilesténèbresetlamélancolie①

在另外一个地方，他画了一座陵墓，并且题了词：

Lamortestsecourableetlamortesttranqulle；

Ah！coutrelesdouteursiln'yapasd'autreasile．②朱莉说，这真妙极了。

“Ilyaquelquechosedesiravissantdanslesouriredelamèlancolie，③”她把引自书上的这个地方一字不差地念给鲍里斯听。

“C'estunrayondelumièredansl'ombre，unenuanceentreladouleuretledésespoir，quimontrelaconsolationpossible．④”

①法语：农村的树木，你们那暗淡的树枝把昏暗的阴郁振落在我身上。

②法语：死亡拯救人生，死亡赐予安详；啊，没有另一个躲避痛苦的地方。

③法语：忧悒的微笑含有某种无穷无尽的魅力。

④法语：这是暗影中的一线光明，是忧愁和失望之间的细微差别，它说明慰藉的可能。

鲍里斯为此给她写了以下一首诗：

Alimentdepoisond'uneaBmetropsensible，

Toi，sansquilebonheurmeseraitimpossible，

Tendremélancolie，ah！viensmeconsoler，

Vienscolmerlestourmentsdemasombreretraite，

Etmêleunedouceursecrète

Acespleurs，quijesenscouler．①

朱莉用竖琴给鲍里斯弹奏最悲哀的夜曲。鲍里斯给她朗诵《可怜的丽莎》，因为他激动得上气不接下气，接连有几次中断了朗诵。朱莉和鲍里斯在大庭广众中相会的时候，二人的目光相遇，就像望见世界上唯一冷淡的、互相了解的人那样。

经常到卡拉金娜家里去的安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜在和朱莉的母亲凑成牌局的时候，对朱莉的陪嫁，作了实际的调查（为朱莉出阁而陪送奔萨省两处领地和下城森林）。安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜现出忠于天意和深受感动的神情观察那微妙的悲哀气氛，而这种气氛把她的儿子和富有的朱莉束缚在一起。

“Tojoursfcharmanteetmélancolique，cettechèreJulie，”②她对他们那家的女儿说，“鲍里斯说，他只是在您家里，心灵才感到安逸。他多少次心灰意冷，而且深有感触。”

她对朱莉的母亲说。

①法语：有毒的希馔／损害着无比机智的灵魂，／假如没有你，我的幸福已成为泡影。／温柔的凄凉／啊，你来安慰我，／你来排除那阴暗的幽居的生活的痛苦，／把那秘密的甜蜜／混和着我所感觉到的簌簌地流下的眼泪。

②法语：我们的可爱的朱莉还是那么迷人和忧悒。

“啊，我的亲人，我近来多么依恋朱莉，”她对儿子说，“我无法向你形容啊！谁能不喜爱她呢？她是个多么非凡的人啊！噢，鲍里斯，鲍里斯！”她沉默片刻，“我多么怜悯她的妈妈，”她继续说，“今天她把从奔萨送来的帐目和信札拿给我看（她们有个偌大的领地），她很可怜，全靠自己一个人，人家都欺骗她！”

鲍里斯倾听母亲说话时，脸上微露笑容。他态度温和地嘲笑她那憨厚的狡黠，但是他仔细地听她说话，有时候向她询问奔萨和下城领地的情形。

朱莉老早就在等待她那忧悒的追求者向她求婚并且愿意接受他，但是鲍里斯对她那渴望出阁的心情，对她的不自然的态度，内心怀有一种潜在的厌恶感，同时还害怕丧失真正恋爱的良机，这种恐惧心还在阻止他向朱莉求婚。他的假期快要结束了。他每天都在卡拉金家里消磨整整一天的时光，他每天暗自思量，他自言自语地说，他明天就去求婚。但是在朱莉出现时，他两眼瞅着她那通红的脸和几乎总是扑满香粉的下巴，她那被泪水沾湿的眼睛，她的面部表情已显示出她随时准备从忧郁的心情立刻转变为婚后幸福的不自然的喜悦心情，鲍里斯目睹此情此景，就不会开口说出一句决定性的话了，虽然他早在臆想中认为自己是奔萨和下城领地的占有者并把领地的收入排好了用场。朱莉看见鲍里斯犹豫不决，有时候她想到他嫌恶她，但是女人的自欺自慰使她立即感到高兴，她于是自言自语地说，他只是由于钟情而腼腆起来。但是她的抑郁寡欢开始转变成懊丧，所以在鲍里斯动身前不久，她就采取决定性的步聚。而当鲍里斯的假期快要结束的时候，阿纳托利·库拉金正在莫斯科，自然是在卡拉金家的客厅里出现，朱莉不再抑郁寡欢，却变得十分快活，细心照料库拉金。

“Mon　cher（我亲爱的），”安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜对儿子说，“je　sais　de　bonne　source　que　le　Prince　Basile　envoie　son　fils　à　Moscou　pour　lui　faire　épouser　Julie①。我很喜欢朱莉，我可怜她。我的亲人，你以为怎样？”安娜·米哈伊洛夫娜说。

①法语：我亲爱的，我从可靠消息得知瓦西里公爵把儿子送来是想要他娶朱莉为妻的。

鲍里斯受到愚弄，白白地浪费了一个月的时间，在朱莉身边完全陷于抑郁寡欢的气氛，心里觉得难受，并且看到在他想象中已经弄到手的、适当地派了用场的奔萨领地的收入已经落入别人手里，尤其是落入愚蠢的阿纳托利手里，鲍里斯一想到这些事情，就感到受了侮辱。他乘车前往卡拉金家，毅然决定去求婚。朱莉现出愉快的无忧无虑的样子，出来迎接他，心不在焉地讲到，在昨天的舞会上她觉得非常快活并向他问到他什么时候动身。虽然鲍里斯到她这里来是打算倾诉爱慕之情的，因此他存心装出一副温柔多情的样子，可是他竟然冲动得谈起女人的喜新厌旧来了，他说女人们都很容易从忧愁转变为欢乐，女人的心境只有取决于追求她们的男人。朱莉觉得受到了侮辱，她说，事实确乎如此，女人需要变变花样，如果总是老样子，人人都会感到厌烦的。

“为此我可以奉劝您……”鲍里斯正要开腔，想对她说些讽刺话；但在这时候他心中产生一种令人屈辱的想法：很可能达不到目的，徒劳无益地离开莫斯科（他从未发生这种情形）。他讲到半中间便停顿下来，垂下了眼帘，不想去看她那令人厌恶的十分忿怒的犹豫不决的脸色，他说道：“我到这里来，根本不想和您争吵，恰恰相反……”他朝她瞥了一眼，为了弄清楚，是不是可以继续讲下去。她那愤怒的心情忽然消逝了，一双焦虑不安的，央求的眼睛带着迫切期待的目光逼视着他。“我总能想到办法，少和她见面，”鲍里斯想了想，“事情开了头，就得把它做完啊！”他突然面红耳赤，抬起眼睛望望她，并且对她说：“您知道我对您充满爱心！”再也不用多说了，朱莉的脸上焕发出洋洋得意和自满的光彩，但她迫使鲍里斯在这种场合把他心里要说的话一股脑儿向她说出来，说他很爱她，他从来没有像爱她那样爱过一个别的妇女。她知道，靠奔萨的领地和下城的森林，她就能提出这项要求，而且她已经得到了她所要求的一切。

未婚夫和未婚妻不再提及那两株撒落着阴郁和凄清的树了，他们规划，将来怎样在彼得堡修建一座金壁辉煌的住宅、访问亲戚朋友以及筹备隆重的婚礼。