Fedor Ivanitch Lavretsky — we must ask the reader’s permission to break off the thread of our story for a time — came of an old noble family. The founder1 of the house of Lavretskky came over from Prussia in the reign2 of Vassili the Blind, and received a grant of two hundred chetverts of land in Byezhetsk. Many of his descendants filled various offices, and served under princes and persons of eminence3 in outlying districts, but not one of them rose above the rank of an inspector4 of the Imperial table nor acquired any considerable fortune. The richest and most distinguished5 of all the Lavretskys was Fedor Ivanitch’s great-grandfather, Andrei, a man cruel and daring, cunning and able. Even to this day stories still linger of his tyranny, his savage6 temper, his reckless munificence7, and his insatiable avarice8. He was very stout9 and tall, swarthy of countenance10 and beardless, he spoke11 in a thick voice and seemed half asleep; but the more quietly he spoke the more those about him trembled. He had managed to get a wife who was a fit match for him. She was a gipsy by birth, goggle-eyed and hook-nosed, with a round yellow face. She was irascible and vindictive12, and never gave way in anything to her husband, who almost killed her, and whose death she did not survive, though she had been for ever quarrelling with him. The son of Andrei, Piotr, Fedor’s grandfather, did not take after his father; he was a typical landowner of the steppes, rather a simpleton, loud-voiced, but slow to move, coarse but not ill-natured, hospitable13 and very fond of coursing with dogs. He was over thirty when he inherited from his father a property of two thousand serfs in capital condition; but he had soon dissipated it, and had partly mortgaged his estate, and demoralised his servants. All sorts of people of low position, known and unknown, came crawling like cockroaches14 from all parts into his spacious15, warm, ill-kept halls. All this mass of people ate what they could get, but always had their fill, drank till they were drunk, and carried off what they could, praising and blessing16 their genial17 host; and their host too when he was out humour blessed his guests — for a pack of sponging toadies18, but he was bored when he was without them. Piotr Andreitch’s wife was a meek-spirited creature; he had taken her from a neighbouring family by his father’s choice and command; her name was Anna Pavlovna. She never interfered19 in anything, welcomed guests cordially, and readily paid visits herself, though being powdered, she used to declare, would be the death of her. “They put,” she used to say in her old age, “a fox’s brush on your head, comb all the hair up over it, smear20 it with grease, and dust it over with flour, and stick it up with iron pins,— there’s no washing it off afterwards; but to pay visits without powder was quite impossible — people would be offended. Ah, it was a torture!”
She liked being driven with fast-trotting horses, and was ready to play cards from morning till evening, and would always keep the score of the pennies she had lost or won hidden under her hand when her husband came near the card-table; but all her dowry, her whole fortune, she had put absolutely at his disposal. She bore him two children, a son Ivan, the father of Fedor, and a daughter Glafira. Ivan was not brought up at home, but lived with a rich old maiden21 aunt, the Princess Kubensky; she had fixed22 on him for her heir (but for that his father would not have let him go). She dressed him up like a doll, engaged all kinds of teachers for him, and put him in charge of a tutor, a Frenchman, who had been an abbe, a pupil of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a certain M. Courtin de Vaucelles, a subtle and wily intriguer23 — the very, as she expressed it, fine fleur of emigration — and finished at almost seventy years old by marrying this “fine fleur,” and making over all her property to him. Soon afterwards, covered with rouge25, and redolent of perfume a la Richelieu, surrounded by negro boys, delicate-shaped greyhounds and shrieking26 parrots, she died on a crooked27 silken divan28 of the time of Louis XV., with an enamelled snuff-box of Petitot’s workmanship in her hand — and died, deserted29 by her husband; the insinuating30 M. Courtin had preferred to remove to Paris with her money. Ivan had only reached his twentieth year when this unexpected blow (we mean the princess’s marriage, not her death) fell upon him; he did not care to stay in his aunt’s house, where he found himself suddenly transformed from a wealthy heir to a poor relation; the society in Petersburg in which he had grown up was closed to him; he felt an aversion for entering the government service in the lower grades, with nothing but hard work and obscurity before him,— this was at the very beginning of the reign of the Emperor Alexander. He was obliged reluctantly to return to the country to his father. How squalid, poor, and wretched his parents’ home seemed to him! The stagnation31 and sordidness32 of life in the country offended him at every step. He was consumed with ennui33. Moreover, every one in the house, except his mother, looked at him with unfriendly eyes. His father did not like his town manners, his swallow-tail coats, his frilled shirt-fronts, his books, his flute34, his fastidious ways, in which he detected — not incorrectly — a disgust for his surroundings; he was for ever complaining and grumbling35 at his son. “Nothing here,” he used to say, “is to his taste; at table he is all in a fret36, and doesn’t eat; he can’t bear the heat and close smell of the room; the sight of folks drunk upsets him, one daren’t beat any one before him; he doesn’t want to go into the government service; he’s weakly, as you see, in health; fie upon him, the milksop! And all this because he’s got his head full of Voltaire.” The old man had a special dislike to Voltaire, and the “fanatic37” Diderot, though he had not read a word of their words; reading was not in his line. Piotr Andreitch was not mistaken; his son’s head for that matter was indeed full of both Diderot and Voltaire, and not only of them alone, of Rousseau too, and Helvetius, and many other writers of the same kind — but they were in his head only. The retired38 abbe and encyclopedist who had been Ivan Petrovitch’s tutor had taken pleasure in pouring all the wisdom of the eighteenth century into his pupil, and he was simply brimming over with it; it was there in him, but without mixing in his blood, nor penetrating39 to his soul, nor shaping itself in any firm convictions. . . . But, indeed, could one expect convictions from a young man of fifty years ago, when even at the present day we have not succeeded in attaining41 them? The guests, too, who frequented his father’s house, were oppressed by Ivan Petrovitch’s presence; he regarded them with loathing42, they were afraid of him; and with his sister Glafira, who was twelve years older than he, he could not get on at all. This Glafira was a strange creature; she was ugly, crooked, and spare, with severe, wide-open eyes, and thin compressed lips. In her face, her voice, and her quick angular movements, she took after her grandmother, the gipsy, Andrei’s wife. Obstinate43 and fond of power, she would not even hear of marriage. The return of Ivan Petrovitch did not fit in with her plans; while the Princess Kubensky kept him with her, she had hoped to receive at least half of her father’s estate; in her avarice, too, she was like her grandmother. Besides, Glafira envied her brother, he was so well educated, spoke such good French with a Parisian accent, while she was scarcely able to pronounce “bon jour” or “comment vous portez-vous.” To be sure, her parents did not know any French, but that was no comfort to her. Ivan Petrovitch did not know what to do with himself for wretchedness and ennui; he had spent hardly a year in the country, but that year seemed to him as long as ten. The only consolation44 he could find was in talking to his mother, and he would sit for whole hours in her low-pitched rooms, listening to the good woman’s simple-hearted prattle45, and eating preserves. It so happened that among Anna Pavlovna’s maids there was one very pretty girl with clear soft eyes and refined features, Malanya by name, an modest intelligent creature. She took his fancy at first sight, and he fell in love with her: he fell in love with her timid movements, her bashful answers, her gentle voice and gentle smile; every day she seemed sweeter to him. And she became devoted46 to Ivan Petrovitch with all the strength of her soul, as none but Russian girls can be devoted — and she gave herself to him. In the large household of a country squire47 nothing can long be kept a secret; soon every one knew of the love between the young master and Malanya; the gossip even reached the ears of Piotr Andreitch himself. Under other circumstances, he would probably have paid no attention to a matter of so little importance, but he had long had a grudge48 against his son, and was delighted at an opportunity of humiliating the town-bred wit and dandy. A storm of fuss and clamour was raised; Malanya was locked up in the pantry, Ivan Petrovitch was summoned into his father’s presence. Anna Pavlovna too ran up at the hubbub49. She began trying to pacify50 her husband, but Piotr Andreitch would hear nothing. He pounced51 down like a hawk52 on his son, reproached him with immorality53, with godlessness, with hypocrisy54; he took the opportunity to vent24 on him all the wrath55 against the Princess Kubensky that had been simmering within him, and lavished56 abusive epithets57 upon him. At first Ivan Petrovitch was silent and held himself in, but when his father thought to fit to threaten him with a shameful58 punishment he could endure it no longer. “Ah,” he thought, “the fanatic Diderot is brought out again, then I will take the bull by the horns, I will astonish you all.” And thereupon with a calm and even voice, though quaking inwardly in every limb, Ivan Petrovitch declared to his father, that there was no need to reproach him with immorality; that though he did not intend to justify59 his fault he was ready to make amends60 for it, the more willingly as he felt himself to be superior to every kind of prejudice — and in fact — was ready to marry Malanya. In uttering these words Ivan Petrovitch did undoubtedly61 attain40 his object; he so astonished Piotr Andreitch that the latter stood open-eyed, and was struck dumb for a moment; but instantly he came to himself, and just as he was, in a dressing-gown bordered with squirrel fur and slippers62 on his bare feet, he flew at Ivan Petrovitch with his fists. The latter, as though by design, had that morning arranged his locks a la Titus, and put on a new English coat of a blue colour, high boots with little tassels63 and very tight modish64 buckskin breeches. Anna Pavlovna shrieked65 with all her might and covered her face with her hands; but her son ran over the whole house, dashed out into the courtyard, rushed into the kitchen-garden, into the pleasure-grounds, and flew across into the road, and kept running without looking round till at last he ceased to hear the heavy tramp of his father’s steps behind him and his shouts, jerked out with effort, “Stop you scoundrel!” he cried, “stop! or I will curse you!” Ivan Petrovitch took refuge with a neighbour, a small landowner, and Piotr Andreitch returned home worn out and perspiring66, and without taking breath, announced that he should deprive his son of his blessing and inheritance, gave orders that all his foolish books should be burnt, and that the girl Malanya should be sent to a distant village without loss of time. Some kind-hearted people found out Ivan Petrovitch and let him know everything. Humiliated67 and driven to fury, he vowed68 he would be revenged on his father, and the same night lay in wait for the peasant’s cart in which Malanya was being driven away, carried her off by force, galloped69 off to the nearest town with her and married her. He was supplied with money by the neighbour, a good-natured retired marine70 officer, a confirmed tippler, who took an intense delight in every kind of — as he expressed it — romantic story.
The next day Ivan Petrovitch wrote an ironically cold and polite letter to Piotr Andreitch, and set off to the village where lived his second cousin, Dmitri Pestov, with his sister, already known to the reader, Marfa Timofyevna. He told them all, announced his intention to go to Petersburg to try to obtain a post there, and besought71 them, at least for a time, to give his wife a home. At the word “wife” he shed tears, and in spite of his city breeding and philosophy he bowed himself in humble72, supplicating73 Russian fashion at his relations’ feet, and even touched the ground with his forehead. The Pestovs, kind-hearted and compassionate74 people, readily agreed to his request. He stayed with them for three weeks, secretly expecting a reply from his father; but no reply came — and there was no chance of a reply coming.
Piotr Andreitch, on hearing of his son’s marriage, took to his bed, and forbade Ivan Petrovitch’s name to be mentioned before him; but his mother, without her husband’s knowledge, borrowed from the rector, and sent 500 roubles and a little image to his wife. She was afraid to write, but sent a message to Ivan Petrovitch by a lean peasant, who could walk fifty miles a day, that he was not to take it too much to heart; that, please God, all would be arranged, and his father’s wraath would be turned to kindness; that she too would have preferred a different daughter-in-law, but that she sent Malanya Sergyevna her motherly blessing. The lean peasant received a rouble, asked permission to see the new young mistress, to whom he happened to be godfather, kissed her hand and ran off at his best speed.
And Ivan Petrovitch set off to Ptersburg with a light heart. An unknown future awaited him; poverty perhaps menaced him, but he had broken away from the country life he detested75, and above all, he had not been false to his teachers, he had actually put into practice the doctrines76 of Rousseau, Diderot, and la Declaration des droits de l’homme. A sense of having done his duty, of triumph, and of pride filled his soul; and indeed the separation from his wife did not greatly afflict77 him; he would have been more perturbed78 by the necessity of being constantly with her. That deed was done, now he wanted to set about doing something fresh. In Petersburg, contrary to his own expectations, he met with success; the Princess Kubensky, whom Monsieur Courtin had by that time deserted, but who was still living, in order to make up in some way to her nephew for having wronged him, gave him introductions to all her friends, and presented him with 5000 roubles — almost all that remained of her money — and a Lepkovsky watch with his monogram79 encircled by Cupids.
Three months had not passed before he obtained a position in a Russian embassy to London, and in the first English vessel80 that sailed (steamers were not even talked of then) he crossed the sea. A few months later he received a letter from Pestov. The good-natured landowner congratulated Ivan Petrovitch on the birth of a son, who had been born into the world in the village of Pokrovskoe on the 20th of August, 1807, and named Fedor, in honour of the holy martyr81 Fedor Stratilat. On account of her extreme weakness Malanya Sergyevna added only a few lines; but those few lines were a surprise, for Ivan Petrovitch had not known that Marfa Timofyevna had taught his wife to read and write. Ivan Petrovitch did not long abandon himself to the sweet emotion of parental82 feeling; he was dancing attendance on a notorious Phryne or Lais of the day (classical names were still in vogue83 at that date); the Peace of Tilsit had only just been concluded and all the world was hurrying after pleasure, in a giddy whirl of dissipation, and his head had been turned by the black eyes of a bold beauty. He had very little money, but he was lucky at cards, made many acquaintances, took part in all entertainments, in a word, he was in the swim.
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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munificence
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| n.宽宏大量，慷慨给与 | |
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avarice
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| n.贪婪；贪心 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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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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vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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cockroaches
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| n.蟑螂( cockroach的名词复数 ) | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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toadies
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| n.谄媚者，马屁精( toady的名词复数 )v.拍马，谄媚( toady的第三人称单数 ) | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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smear
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| v.涂抹；诽谤，玷污；n.污点；诽谤，污蔑 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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intriguer
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| 密谋者 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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stagnation
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| n. 停滞 | |
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sordidness
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| n.肮脏；污秽；卑鄙；可耻 | |
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ennui
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| n.怠倦，无聊 | |
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flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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prattle
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| n.闲谈；v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话；发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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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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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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pacify
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| vt.使(某人)平静(或息怒)；抚慰 | |
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51
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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immorality
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| n. 不道德, 无道义 | |
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hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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epithets
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| n.（表示性质、特征等的）词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
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shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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tassels
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| n.穗( tassel的名词复数 )；流苏状物；（植物的）穗；玉蜀黍的穗状雄花v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的第三人称单数 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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modish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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67
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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68
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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69
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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70
marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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71
besought
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| 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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72
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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73
supplicating
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| v.祈求，哀求，恳求( supplicate的现在分词 ) | |
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compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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75
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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77
afflict
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| vt.使身体或精神受痛苦，折磨 | |
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78
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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monogram
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| n.字母组合 | |
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80
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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81
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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82
parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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Vogue
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| n.时髦，时尚；adj.流行的 | |
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