IT happened not so long ago in the Moscow circuit court. The jurymen, left in the court for the night, before lying down to sleep fell into conversation about strong impressions. They were led to this discussion by recalling a witness who, by his own account, had begun to stammer1 and had gone grey owing to a terrible moment. The jurymen decided2 that before going to sleep, each one of them should ransack3 among his memories and tell something that had happened to him. Man’s life is brief, but yet there is no man who cannot boast that there have been terrible moments in his past.
One juryman told the story of how he was nearly drowned; another described how, in a place where there were neither doctors nor chemists, he had one night poisoned his own son through giving him zinc4 vitriol by mistake for soda5. The child did not die, but the father nearly went out of his mind. A third, a man not old but in bad health, told how he had twice attempted to commit suicide: the first time by shooting himself and the second time by throwing himself before a train.
The fourth, a foppishly dressed, fat little man, told us the following story:
“I was not more than twenty-two or twenty-three when I fell head over ears in love with my present wife and made her an offer. Now I could with pleasure thrash myself for my early marriage, but at the time, I don’t know what would have become of me if Natasha had refused me. My love was absolutely the real thing, just as it is described in novels—frantic, passionate6, and so on. My happiness overwhelmed me and I did not know how to get away from it, and I bored my father and my friends and the servants, continually talking about the fervour of my passion. Happy people are the most sickening bores. I was a fearful bore; I feel ashamed of it even now. . . .
“Among my friends there was in those days a young man who was beginning his career as a lawyer. Now he is a lawyer known all over Russia; in those days he was only just beginning to gain recognition and was not rich and famous enough to be entitled to cut an old friend when he met him. I used to go and see him once or twice a week. We used to loll on sofas and begin discussing philosophy.
“One day I was lying on his sofa, arguing that there was no more ungrateful profession than that of a lawyer. I tried to prove that as soon as the examination of witnesses is over the court can easily dispense7 with both the counsels for the prosecution8 and for the defence, because they are neither of them necessary and are only in the way. If a grown-up juryman, morally and mentally sane9, is convinced that the ceiling is white, or that Ivanov is guilty, to struggle with that conviction and to vanquish10 it is beyond the power of any Demosthenes. Who can convince me that I have a red moustache when I know that it is black? As I listen to an orator11 I may perhaps grow sentimental12 and weep, but my fundamental conviction, based for the most part on unmistakable evidence and fact, is not changed in the least. My lawyer maintained that I was young and foolish and that I was talking childish nonsense. In his opinion, for one thing, an obvious fact becomes still more obvious through light being thrown upon it by conscientious13, well-informed people; for another, talent is an elemental force, a hurricane capable of turning even stones to dust, let alone such trifles as the convictions of artisans and merchants of the second guild14. It is as hard for human weakness to struggle against talent as to look at the sun without winking15, or to stop the wind. One simple mortal by the power of the word turns thousands of convinced savages16 to Christianity; Odysseus was a man of the firmest convictions, but he succumbed17 to the Syrens, and so on. All history consists of similar examples, and in life they are met with at every turn; and so it is bound to be, or the intelligent and talented man would have no superiority over the stupid and incompetent18.
“I stuck to my point, and went on maintaining that convictions are stronger than any talent, though, frankly19 speaking, I could not have defined exactly what I meant by conviction or what I meant by talent. Most likely I simply talked for the sake of talking.
“‘Take you, for example,’ said the lawyer. ‘You are convinced at this moment that your fiancée is an angel and that there is not a man in the whole town happier than you. But I tell you: ten or twenty minutes would be enough for me to make you sit down to this table and write to your fiancée, breaking off your engagement.
“I laughed.
“‘Don’t laugh, I am speaking seriously,’ said my friend. ‘If I choose, in twenty minutes you will be happy at the thought that you need not get married. Goodness knows what talent I have, but you are not one of the strong sort.’
“‘Well, try it on!’ said I.
“‘No, what for? I am only telling you this. You are a good boy and it would be cruel to subject you to such an experiment. And besides I am not in good form to-day.’
“We sat down to supper. The wine and the thought of Natasha, my beloved, flooded my whole being with youth and happiness. My happiness was so boundless20 that the lawyer sitting opposite to me with his green eyes seemed to me an unhappy man, so small, so grey. . . .
“The lawyer shook his head and frowned. Evidently I was beginning to bore him.
“‘I know,’ he said, ‘after my experiment you will say, thank you, and will call me your saviour22; but you see I must think of your fiancée too. She loves you; your jilting her would make her suffer. And what a charming creature she is! I envy you.’
“The lawyer sighed, sipped23 his wine, and began talking of how charming my Natasha was. He had an extraordinary gift of description. He could knock you off a regular string of words about a woman’s eyelashes or her little finger. I listened to him with relish24.
“‘I have seen a great many women in my day,’ he said, ‘but I give you my word of honour, I speak as a friend, your Natasha Andreyevna is a pearl, a rare girl. Of course she has her defects—many of them, in fact, if you like—but still she is fascinating.’
“And the lawyer began talking of my fiancée’s defects. Now I understand very well that he was talking of women in general, of their weak points in general, but at the time it seemed to me that he was talking only of Natasha. He went into ecstasies25 over her turn-up nose, her shrieks26, her shrill27 laugh, her airs and graces, precisely28 all the things I so disliked in her. All that was, to his thinking, infinitely29 sweet, graceful30, and feminine.
“Without my noticing it, he quickly passed from his enthusiastic tone to one of fatherly admonition, and then to a light and derisive31 one. . . . There was no presiding judge and no one to check the diffusiveness of the lawyer. I had not time to open my mouth, besides, what could I say? What my friend said was not new, it was what everyone has known for ages, and the whole venom32 lay not in what he said, but in the damnable form he put it in. It really was beyond anything!
“As I listened to him then I learned that the same word has thousands of shades of meaning according to the tone in which it is pronounced, and the form which is given to the sentence. Of course I cannot reproduce the tone or the form; I can only say that as I listened to my friend and walked up and down the room, I was moved to resentment33, indignation, and contempt together with him. I even believed him when with tears in his eyes he informed me that I was a great man, that I was worthy34 of a better fate, that I was destined35 to achieve something in the future which marriage would hinder!
“‘My friend!’ he exclaimed, pressing my hand. ‘I beseech36 you, I adjure37 you: stop before it is too late. Stop! May Heaven preserve you from this strange, cruel mistake! My friend, do not ruin your youth!’
“Believe me or not, as you choose, but the long and the short of it was that I sat down to the table and wrote to my fiancée, breaking off the engagement. As I wrote I felt relieved that it was not yet too late to rectify38 my mistake. Sealing the letter, I hastened out into the street to post it. The lawyer himself came with me.
“‘Excellent! Capital!’ he applauded me as my letter to Natasha disappeared into the darkness of the box. ‘I congratulate you with all my heart. I am glad for you.’
“After walking a dozen paces with me the lawyer went on:
“‘Of course, marriage has its good points. I, for instance, belong to the class of people to whom marriage and home life is everything.’
“And he proceeded to describe his life, and lay before me all the hideousness39 of a solitary40 bachelor existence.
“He spoke41 with enthusiasm of his future wife, of the sweets of ordinary family life, and was so eloquent42, so sincere in his ecstasies that by the time we had reached his door, I was in despair.
“‘What are you doing to me, you horrible man?’ I said, gasping43. ‘You have ruined me! Why did you make me write that cursed letter? I love her, I love her!’
“And I protested my love. I was horrified44 at my conduct which now seemed to me wild and senseless. It is impossible, gentlemen, to imagine a more violent emotion than I experienced at that moment. Oh, what I went through, what I suffered! If some kind person had thrust a revolver into my hand at that moment, I should have put a bullet through my brains with pleasure.
“‘Come, come . . .’ said the lawyer, slapping me on the shoulder, and he laughed. ‘Give over crying. The letter won’t reach your fiancée. It was not you who wrote the address but I, and I muddled45 it so they won’t be able to make it out at the post-office. It will be a lesson to you not to argue about what you don’t understand.’
“Now, gentlemen, I leave it to the next to speak.”
The fifth juryman settled himself more comfortably, and had just opened his mouth to begin his story when we heard the clock strike on Spassky Tower.
“Twelve . . .” one of the jurymen counted. “And into which class, gentlemen, would you put the emotions that are being experienced now by the man we are trying? He, that murderer, is spending the night in a convict cell here in the court, sitting or lying down and of course not sleeping, and throughout the whole sleepless46 night listening to that chime. What is he thinking of? What visions are haunting him?”
And the jurymen all suddenly forgot about strong impressions; what their companion who had once written a letter to his Natasha had suffered seemed unimportant, even not amusing; and no one said anything more; they began quietly and in silence lying down to sleep.
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1
stammer
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n.结巴,口吃;v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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2
decided
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adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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3
ransack
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v.彻底搜索,洗劫 | |
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4
zinc
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n.锌;vt.在...上镀锌 | |
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5
soda
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n.苏打水;汽水 | |
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6
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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7
dispense
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vt.分配,分发;配(药),发(药);实施 | |
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8
prosecution
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n.起诉,告发,检举,执行,经营 | |
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9
sane
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adj.心智健全的,神志清醒的,明智的,稳健的 | |
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10
vanquish
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v.征服,战胜;克服;抑制 | |
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11
orator
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n.演说者,演讲者,雄辩家 | |
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12
sentimental
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adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
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13
conscientious
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adj.审慎正直的,认真的,本着良心的 | |
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14
guild
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n.行会,同业公会,协会 | |
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15
winking
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n.瞬眼,目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 );递眼色(表示友好或高兴等);(指光)闪烁;闪亮 | |
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16
savages
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未开化的人,野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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17
succumbed
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不再抵抗(诱惑、疾病、攻击等)( succumb的过去式和过去分词 ); 屈从; 被压垮; 死 | |
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18
incompetent
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adj.无能力的,不能胜任的 | |
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19
frankly
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adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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20
boundless
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adj.无限的;无边无际的;巨大的 | |
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21
entreat
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v.恳求,恳请 | |
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22
saviour
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n.拯救者,救星 | |
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23
sipped
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v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
relish
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n.滋味,享受,爱好,调味品;vt.加调味料,享受,品味;vi.有滋味 | |
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25
ecstasies
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狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 ); 出神; 入迷; 迷幻药 | |
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26
shrieks
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n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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27
shrill
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adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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28
precisely
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adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
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29
infinitely
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adv.无限地,无穷地 | |
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30
graceful
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adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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31
derisive
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adj.嘲弄的 | |
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32
venom
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n.毒液,恶毒,痛恨 | |
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33
resentment
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n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
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34
worthy
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adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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35
destined
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adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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36
beseech
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v.祈求,恳求 | |
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37
adjure
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v.郑重敦促(恳请) | |
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38
rectify
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v.订正,矫正,改正 | |
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39
hideousness
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40
solitary
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adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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41
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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42
eloquent
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adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
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43
gasping
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adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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44
horrified
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a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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45
muddled
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adj.混乱的;糊涂的;头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱,弄糟( muddle的过去式);使糊涂;对付,混日子 | |
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46
sleepless
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adj.不睡眠的,睡不著的,不休息的 | |
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