WHEN the protocol1 had been signed, Nikolay Parfenovitch turned solemnly to the prisoner and read him the “Committal,” setting forth2, that in such a year, on such a day, in such a place, the investigating lawyer of such-and-such a district court, having examined so-and-so (to wit, Mitya) accused of this and of that (all the charges were carefully written out) and having considered that the accused, not pleading guilty to the charges made against him, had brought forward nothing in his defence, while the witnesses, so-and-so, and so-and-so, and the circumstances such-and-such testify against him, acting4 in accordance with such-and-such articles of the Statute5 Book, and so on, has ruled, that, in order to preclude6 so-and-so (Mitya) from all means of evading7 pursuit and judgment8, he be detained in such-and-such a prison, which he hereby notifies to the accused and communicates a copy of this same “Committal” to the deputy prosecutor9, and so on, and so on.
In brief, Mitya was informed that he was, from that moment, a prisoner, and that he would be driven at once to the town, and there shut up in a very unpleasant place. Mitya listened attentively10, and only shrugged11 his shoulders.
“Well, gentlemen, I don’t blame you. I’m ready. . . . I understand that there’s nothing else for you to do.”
Nikolay Parfenovitch informed him gently that he would be escorted at once by the rural police officer, Mavriky Mavrikyevitch, who happened to be on the spot. . . .
“Stay,” Mitya interrupted, suddenly, and impelled12 by uncontrollable feeling he pronounced, addressing all in the room:
“Gentlemen, we’re all cruel, we’re all monsters, we all make men weep, and mothers, and babes at the breast, but of all, let it be settled here, now, of all I am the lowest reptile13! I’ve sworn to amend14, and every day I’ve done the same filthy15 things. I understand now that such men as I need a blow, a blow of destiny to catch them as with a noose16, and bind17 them by a force from without. Never, never should I have risen of myself! But the thunderbolt has fallen. I accept the torture of accusation18, and my public shame; I want to suffer and by suffering I shall be purified. Perhaps I shall be purified, gentlemen? But listen, for the last time, I am not guilty of my father’s blood. I accept my punishment, not because I killed him, but because I meant to kill him, and perhaps I really might have killed him. Still I mean to fight it out with you. I warn you of that. I’ll fight it out with you to the end, and then God will decide. Good-bye, gentlemen, don’t be vexed19 with me for having shouted at you during the examination. Oh, I was still such a fool then. . . . In another minute I shall be a prisoner, but now, for the last time, as a free man, Dmitri Karamazov offers you his hand. Saying good-bye to you, I say it to all men.”
His voice quivered and he stretched out his hand, but Nikolay Parfenovitch, who happened to stand nearest to him, with a sudden, almost nervous movement, hid his hands behind his back. Mitya instantly noticed this, and started. He let his outstretched hand fall at once.
“The preliminary inquiry20 is not yet over,” Nikolay Parfenovitch faltered21, somewhat embarrassed. “We will continue it in the town, and I, for my part, of course, am ready to wish you all success . . . in your defence. . . . As a matter of fact, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, I’ve always been disposed to regard you as, so to speak, more unfortunate than guilty. All of us here, if I may make bold to speak for all, we are all ready to recognise that you are, at bottom, a young man of honour, but, alas22, one who has been carried away by certain passions to a somewhat excessive degree . . . ”
Nikolay Parfenovitch’s little figure was positively23 majestic24 by the time he had finished speaking. It struck Mitya that in another minute this “boy” would take his arm, lead him to another corner, and renew their conversation about “girls.” But many quite irrelevant25 and inappropriate thoughts sometimes occur even to a prisoner when he is being led out to execution.
“Gentlemen, you are good, you are humane26, may I see her to say ‘good-bye’ for the last time?” asked Mitya.
“Certainly, but considering . . . in fact, now it’s impossible except in the presence of-”
“Oh, well, if it must be so, it must!”
Grushenka was brought in, but the farewell was brief, and of few words, and did not at all satisfy Nikolay Parfenovitch. Grushenka made a deep bow to Mitya.
“I have told you I am yours, and I will be yours. I will follow you for ever, wherever they may send you. Farewell; you are guiltless, though you’ve been your own undoing27.”
Her lips quivered, tears flowed from her eyes.
“Forgive me, Grusha, for my love, for ruining you, too, with my love.”
Mitya would have said something more, but he broke off and went out. He was at once surrounded by men who kept a constant watch on him. At the bottom of the steps to which he had driven up with such a dash the day before with Andrey’s three horses, two carts stood in readiness. Mavriky Mavrikyevitch, a sturdy, thick-set man with a wrinkled face, was annoyed about something, some sudden irregularity. He was shouting angrily. He asked Mitya to get into the cart with somewhat excessive surliness.
“When I stood him drinks in the tavern28, the man had quite a different face,” thought Mitya, as he got in. At the gates there was a crowd of people, peasants, women, and drivers. Trifon Borissovitch came down the steps too. All stared at Mitya.
“Forgive me at parting, good people!” Mitya shouted suddenly from the cart.
“Forgive us too!” he heard two or three voices.
“Good-bye to you, too, Trifon Borissovitch!”
But Trifon Borissovitch did not even turn round. He was, perhaps, too busy. He, too, was shouting and fussing about something. It appeared that everything was not yet ready in the second cart, in which two constables29 were to accompany Mavriky Mavrikyevitch. The peasant who had been ordered to drive the second cart was pulling on his smock, stoutly30 maintaining that it was not his turn to go, but Akim’s. But Akim was not to be seen. They ran to look for him. The peasant persisted and besought31 them to wait.
“You see what our peasants are, Mavriky Mavrikyevitch. They’ve no shame!” exclaimed Trifon Borissovitch. “Akim gave you twenty-five copecks the day before yesterday. You’ve drunk it all and now you cry out. I’m simply surprised at your good-nature, with our low peasants, Mavriky Mavrikyevitch, that’s all I can say.”
“But what do we want a second cart for?” Mitya put in. “Let’s start with the one, Mavriky Mavrikyevitch. I won’t be unruly, I won’t run away from you, old fellow. What do we want an escort for?”
“I’ll trouble you, sir, to learn how to speak to me if you’ve never been taught. I’m not ‘old fellow’ to you, and you can keep your advice for another time!” Mavriky Mavrikyevitch snapped out savagely32, as though glad to vent33 his wrath34.
Mitya was reduced to silence. He flushed all over. A moment later he felt suddenly very cold. The rain had ceased, but the dull sky was still overcast35 with clouds, and a keen wind was blowing straight in his face.
“I’ve taken a chill,” thought Mitya, twitching36 his shoulders.
At last Mavriky Mavrikyevitch, too, got into the cart, sat down heavily, and, as though without noticing it, squeezed Mitya into the corner. It is true that he was out of humour and greatly disliked the task that had been laid upon him.
“Good-bye, Trifon Borissovitch!” Mitya shouted again, and felt himself, that he had not called out this time from good-nature, but involuntarily, from resentment37.
But Trifon Borissovitch stood proudly, with both hands behind his back, and staring straight at Mitya with a stern and angry face, he made no reply.
“Good-bye, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, good-bye!” he heard all at once the voice of Kalganov, who had suddenly darted38 out. Running up to the cart he held out his hand to Mitya. He had no cap on.
Mitya had time to seize and press his hand.
“Good-bye, dear fellow! I shan’t forget your generosity,” he cried warmly.
But the cart moved and their hands parted. The bell began ringing and Mitya was driven off.
Kalganov ran back, sat down in a corner, bent39 his head, hid his face in his hands, and burst out crying. For a long while he sat like that, crying as though he were a little boy instead of a young man of twenty. Oh, he believed almost without doubt in Mitya’s guilt3.
“What are these people? What can men be after this?” he exclaimed incoherently, in bitter despondency, almost despair. At that moment he had no desire to live.
“Is it worth it? Is it worth it?” exclaimed the boy in his grief.
1 protocol | |
n.议定书,草约,会谈记录,外交礼节 | |
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2 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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3 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
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4 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
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5 statute | |
n.成文法,法令,法规;章程,规则,条例 | |
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6 preclude | |
vt.阻止,排除,防止;妨碍 | |
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7 evading | |
逃避( evade的现在分词 ); 避开; 回避; 想不出 | |
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8 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
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9 prosecutor | |
n.起诉人;检察官,公诉人 | |
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10 attentively | |
adv.聚精会神地;周到地;谛;凝神 | |
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11 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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12 impelled | |
v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13 reptile | |
n.爬行动物;两栖动物 | |
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14 amend | |
vt.修改,修订,改进;n.[pl.]赔罪,赔偿 | |
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15 filthy | |
adj.卑劣的;恶劣的,肮脏的 | |
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16 noose | |
n.绳套,绞索(刑);v.用套索捉;使落入圈套;处以绞刑 | |
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17 bind | |
vt.捆,包扎;装订;约束;使凝固;vi.变硬 | |
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18 accusation | |
n.控告,指责,谴责 | |
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19 vexed | |
adj.争论不休的;(指问题等)棘手的;争论不休的问题;烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 );使苦恼;使生气;详细讨论 | |
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20 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
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21 faltered | |
(嗓音)颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 ); 支吾其词; 蹒跚; 摇晃 | |
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22 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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23 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
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24 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
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25 irrelevant | |
adj.不恰当的,无关系的,不相干的 | |
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26 humane | |
adj.人道的,富有同情心的 | |
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27 undoing | |
n.毁灭的原因,祸根;破坏,毁灭 | |
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28 tavern | |
n.小旅馆,客栈;小酒店 | |
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29 constables | |
n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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30 stoutly | |
adv.牢固地,粗壮的 | |
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31 besought | |
v.恳求,乞求(某事物)( beseech的过去式和过去分词 );(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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32 savagely | |
adv. 野蛮地,残酷地 | |
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33 vent | |
n.通风口,排放口;开衩;vt.表达,发泄 | |
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34 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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35 overcast | |
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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36 twitching | |
n.颤搐 | |
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37 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
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38 darted | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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39 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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