“Ha, you are an officer! I have a brother an officer too, only he is a naval2 officer. . . . He is a naval officer, and he is stationed at Kronstadt. Why are you going to Moscow?”
“I am serving there.”
“Ha! And are you a family man?”
“No, I live with my sister and aunt.”
“My brother’s an officer, only he is a naval officer; he has a wife and three children. Ha!”
The Finn seemed continually surprised at something, and gave a broad idiotic3 grin when he exclaimed “Ha!” and continually puffed4 at his stinking5 pipe. Klimov, who for some reason did not feel well, and found it burdensome to answer questions, hated him with all his heart. He dreamed of how nice it would be to snatch the wheezing6 pipe out of his hand and fling it under the seat, and drive the Finn himself into another compartment7.
“Detestable people these Finns and . . . Greeks,” he thought. “Absolutely superfluous8, useless, detestable people. They simply fill up space on the earthly globe. What are they for?”
And the thought of Finns and Greeks produced a feeling akin9 to sickness all over his body. For the sake of comparison he tried to think of the French, of the Italians, but his efforts to think of these people evoked10 in his mind, for some reason, nothing but images of organ-grinders, naked women, and the foreign oleographs which hung over the chest of drawers at home, at his aunt’s.
Altogether the officer felt in an abnormal state. He could not arrange his arms and legs comfortably on the seat, though he had the whole seat to himself. His mouth felt dry and sticky; there was a heavy fog in his brain; his thoughts seemed to be straying, not only within his head, but outside his skull11, among the seats and the people that were shrouded12 in the darkness of night. Through the mist in his brain, as through a dream, he heard the murmur13 of voices, the rumble14 of wheels, the slamming of doors. The sounds of the bells, the whistles, the guards, the running to and fro of passengers on the platforms, seemed more frequent than usual. The time flew by rapidly, imperceptibly, and so it seemed as though the train were stopping at stations every minute, and metallic15 voices crying continually:
“Is the mail ready?”
“Yes!” was repeatedly coming from outside.
It seemed as though the man in charge of the heating came in too often to look at the thermometer, that the noise of trains going in the opposite direction and the rumble of the wheels over the bridges was incessant16. The noise, the whistles, the Finn, the tobacco smoke — all this mingling17 with the menace and flickering18 of the misty19 images in his brain, the shape and character of which a man in health can never recall, weighed upon Klimov like an unbearable20 nightmare. In horrible misery21 he lifted his heavy head, looked at the lamp in the rays of which shadows and misty blurs22 seemed to be dancing. He wanted to ask for water, but his parched23 tongue would hardly move, and he scarcely had strength to answer the Finn’s questions. He tried to lie down more comfortably and go to sleep, but he could not succeed. The Finn several times fell asleep, woke up again, lighted his pipe, addressed him with his “Ha!” and went to sleep again; and still the lieutenant’s legs could not get into a comfortable position, and still the menacing images stood facing him.
At Spirovo he went out into the station for a drink of water. He saw people sitting at the table and hurriedly eating.
“And how can they eat!” he thought, trying not to sniff24 the air, that smelt25 of roast meat, and not to look at the munching26 mouths — they both seemed to him sickeningly disgusting.
A good-looking lady was conversing27 loudly with a military man in a red cap, and showing magnificent white teeth as she smiled; and the smile, and the teeth, and the lady herself made on Klimov the same revolting impression as the ham and the rissoles. He could not understand how it was the military man in the red cap was not ill at ease, sitting beside her and looking at her healthy, smiling face.
When after drinking some water he went back to his carriage, the Finn was sitting smoking; his pipe was wheezing and squelching28 like a golosh with holes in it in wet weather.
“Ha!” he said, surprised; “what station is this?”
“I don’t know,” answered Klimov, lying down and shutting his mouth that he might not breathe the acrid29 tobacco smoke.
“And when shall we reach Tver?”
“I don’t know. Excuse me, I . . . I can’t answer. I am ill. I caught cold today.”
The Finn knocked his pipe against the window-frame and began talking of his brother, the naval officer. Klimov no longer heard him; he was thinking miserably30 of his soft, comfortable bed, of a bottle of cold water, of his sister Katya, who was so good at making one comfortable, soothing31, giving one water. He even smiled when the vision of his orderly Pavel, taking off his heavy stifling32 boots and putting water on the little table, flitted through his imagination. He fancied that if he could only get into his bed, have a drink of water, his nightmare would give place to sound healthy sleep.
“Is the mail ready?” a hollow voice reached him from the distance.
“Yes,” answered a bass33 voice almost at the window.
It was already the second or third station from Spirovo.
The time was flying rapidly in leaps and bounds, and it seemed as though the bells, whistles, and stoppings would never end. In despair Klimov buried his face in the corner of the seat, clutched his head in his hands, and began again thinking of his sister Katya and his orderly Pavel, but his sister and his orderly were mixed up with the misty images in his brain, whirled round, and disappeared. His burning breath, reflected from the back of the seat, seemed to scald his face; his legs were uncomfortable; there was a draught34 from the window on his back; but, however wretched he was, he did not want to change his position. . . . A heavy nightmarish lethargy gradually gained possession of him and fettered35 his limbs.
When he brought himself to raise his head, it was already light in the carriage. The passengers were putting on their fur coats and moving about. The train was stopping. Porters in white aprons36 and with discs on their breasts were bustling37 among the passengers and snatching up their boxes. Klimov put on his great-coat, mechanically followed the other passengers out of the carriage, and it seemed to him that not he, but some one else was moving, and he felt that his fever, his thirst, and the menacing images which had not let him sleep all night, came out of the carriage with him. Mechanically he took his luggage and engaged a sledge38-driver. The man asked him for a rouble and a quarter to drive to Povarsky Street, but he did not haggle39, and without protest got submissively into the sledge. He still understood the difference of numbers, but money had ceased to have any value to him.
At home Klimov was met by his aunt and his sister Katya, a girl of eighteen. When Katya greeted him she had a pencil and exercise book in her hand, and he remembered that she was preparing for an examination as a teacher. Gasping40 with fever, he walked aimlessly through all the rooms without answering their questions or greetings, and when he reached his bed he sank down on the pillow. The Finn, the red cap, the lady with the white teeth, the smell of roast meat, the flickering blurs, filled his consciousness, and by now he did not know where he was and did not hear the agitated41 voices.
When he recovered consciousness he found himself in bed, undressed, saw a bottle of water and Pavel, but it was no cooler, nor softer, nor more comfortable for that. His arms and legs, as before, refused to lie comfortably; his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he heard the wheezing of the Finn’s pipe. . . . A stalwart, black-bearded doctor was busy doing something beside the bed, brushing against Pavel with his broad back.
“It’s all right, it’s all right, young man,” he muttered. “Excellent, excellent . . . goo-od, goo-od . . .!”
The doctor called Klimov “young man,” said “goo-od” instead of “good” and “so-o” instead of “so.”
“So-o . . . so-o . . . so-o,” he murmured. “Goo-od, goo-od . . .! Excellent, young man. You mustn’t lose heart!”
The doctor’s rapid, careless talk, his well-fed countenance42, and condescending43 “young man,” irritated Klimov.
“Why do you call me ‘young man’?” he moaned. “What familiarity! Damn it all!”
And he was frightened by his own voice. The voice was so dried up, so weak and peevish44, that he would not have known it.
“Excellent, excellent!” muttered the doctor, not in the least offended. . . . “You mustn’t get angry, so-o, so-o, so-s . . . .”
And the time flew by at home with the same startling swiftness as in the railway carriage. The daylight was continually being replaced by the dusk of evening. The doctor seemed never to leave his bedside, and he heard at every moment his “so-o, so-o, so-o.” A continual succession of people was incessantly45 crossing the bedroom. Among them were: Pavel, the Finn, Captain Yaroshevitch, Lance–Corporal Maximenko, the red cap, the lady with the white teeth, the doctor. They were all talking and waving their arms, smoking and eating. Once by daylight Klimov saw the chaplain of the regiment46, Father Alexandr, who was standing47 before the bed, wearing a stole and with a prayer-book in his hand. He was muttering something with a grave face such as Klimov had never seen in him before. The lieutenant remembered that Father Alexandr used in a friendly way to call all the Catholic officers “Poles,” and wanting to amuse him, he cried:
“Father, Yaroshevitch the Pole has climbed up a pole!”
But Father Alexandr, a light-hearted man who loved a joke, did not smile, but became graver than ever, and made the sign of the cross over Klimov. At night-time by turn two shadows came noiselessly in and out; they were his aunt and sister. His sister’s shadow knelt down and prayed; she bowed down to the ikon, and her grey shadow on the wall bowed down too, so that two shadows were praying. The whole time there was a smell of roast meat and the Finn’s pipe, but once Klimov smelt the strong smell of incense48. He felt so sick he could not lie still, and began shouting:
“The incense! Take away the incense!”
There was no answer. He could only hear the subdued49 singing of the priest somewhere and some one running upstairs.
When Klimov came to himself there was not a soul in his bedroom. The morning sun was streaming in at the window through the lower blind, and a quivering sunbeam, bright and keen as the sword’s edge, was flashing on the glass bottle. He heard the rattle50 of wheels — so there was no snow now in the street. The lieutenant looked at the ray, at the familiar furniture, at the door, and the first thing he did was to laugh. His chest and stomach heaved with delicious, happy, tickling51 laughter. His whole body from head to foot was overcome by a sensation of infinite happiness and joy in life, such as the first man must have felt when he was created and first saw the world. Klimov felt a passionate52 desire for movement, people, talk. His body lay a motionless block; only his hands stirred, but that he hardly noticed, and his whole attention was concentrated on trifles. He rejoiced in his breathing, in his laughter, rejoiced in the existence of the water-bottle, the ceiling, the sunshine, the tape on the curtains. God’s world, even in the narrow space of his bedroom, seemed beautiful, varied53, grand. When the doctor made his appearance, the lieutenant was thinking what a delicious thing medicine was, how charming and pleasant the doctor was, and how nice and interesting people were in general.
“So-o, so, so . . . Excellent, excellent! . . . Now we are well again. . . . Goo-od, goo-od!” the doctor pattered.
The lieutenant listened and laughed joyously54; he remembered the Finn, the lady with the white teeth, the train, and he longed to smoke, to eat.
“Doctor,” he said, “tell them to give me a crust of rye bread and salt, and . . . and sardines55.”
The doctor refused; Pavel did not obey the order, and did not go for the bread. The lieutenant could not bear this and began crying like a naughty child.
“Baby!” laughed the doctor. “Mammy, bye-bye!”
Klimov laughed, too, and when the doctor went away he fell into a sound sleep. He woke up with the same joyfulness56 and sensation of happiness. His aunt was sitting near the bed.
“Well, aunt,” he said joyfully57. “What has been the matter?”
“Spotted typhus.”
“Really. But now I am well, quite well! Where is Katya?”
“She is not at home. I suppose she has gone somewhere from her examination.”
The old lady said this and looked at her stocking; her lips began quivering, she turned away, and suddenly broke into sobs59. Forgetting the doctor’s prohibition60 in her despair, she said:
“Ah, Katya, Katya! Our angel is gone! Is gone!”
She dropped her stocking and bent61 down to it, and as she did so her cap fell off her head. Looking at her grey head and understanding nothing, Klimov was frightened for Katya, and asked:
“Where is she, aunt?”
The old woman, who had forgotten Klimov and was thinking only of her sorrow, said:
“She caught typhus from you, and is dead. She was buried the day before yesterday.”
This terrible, unexpected news was fully58 grasped by Klimov’s consciousness; but terrible and startling as it was, it could not overcome the animal joy that filled the convalescent. He cried and laughed, and soon began scolding because they would not let him eat.
Only a week later when, leaning on Pavel, he went in his dressing-gown to the window, looked at the overcast62 spring sky and listened to the unpleasant clang of the old iron rails which were being carted by, his heart ached, he burst into tears, and leaned his forehead against the window-frame.
“How miserable63 I am!” he muttered. “My God, how miserable!”
And joy gave way to the boredom64 of everyday life and the feeling of his irrevocable loss.
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收听单词发音
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1
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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5
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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6
wheezing
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的现在分词 )；哮鸣 | |
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7
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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8
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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9
akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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10
evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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12
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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13
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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14
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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15
metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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16
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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18
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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19
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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20
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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22
blurs
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| n.模糊( blur的名词复数 )；模糊之物；（移动的）模糊形状；模糊的记忆v.（使）变模糊( blur的第三人称单数 )；（使）难以区分 | |
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23
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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24
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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25
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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26
munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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27
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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28
squelching
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| v.发吧唧声，发扑哧声( squelch的现在分词 )；制止；压制；遏制 | |
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29
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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30
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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34
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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35
fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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39
haggle
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| vi.讨价还价，争论不休 | |
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40
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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41
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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42
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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43
condescending
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| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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44
peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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47
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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48
incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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49
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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50
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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51
tickling
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| 反馈，回授，自旋挠痒法 | |
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52
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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53
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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54
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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55
sardines
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| n. 沙丁鱼 | |
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56
joyfulness
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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58
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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59
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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60
prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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61
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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63
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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