章节正文
it is a different matter! You Petersburg con-
querors! You have but to look -- and women
melt. . . But do you know, Pechorin, what
Princess Mary said of you?" . . .
"What? She has spoken to you already
about me?" . . .
"Do not rejoice too soon, though. The other
day, by chance, I entered into conversation with
her at the well; her third word was, 'Who is that
gentleman with such an unpleasant, heavy
glance? He was with you when' . . . she
blushed, and did not like to mention the day,
remembering her own delightful little exploit.
'You need not tell me what day it was,' I
answered; 'it will ever be present to my
memory!' . . . Pechorin, my friend, I cannot
congratulate you, you are in her black books. . .
And, indeed, it is a pity, because Mary is a
charming girl!" . . .
It must be observed that Grushnitski is one of
those men who, in speaking of a woman with
whom they are barely acquainted, call her my
Mary, my Sophie, if she has had the good fortune
to please them.
I assumed a serious air and answered:
"Yes, she is good-looking. . . Only be care-
ful, Grushnitski! Russian ladies, for the most
part, cherish only Platonic love, without mingling
any thought of matrimony with it; and Platonic
love is exceedingly embarrassing. Princess Mary
seems to be one of those women who want to be
amused. If she is bored in your company for two
minutes on end -- you are lost irrevocably. Your
silence ought to excite her curiosity, your con-
versation ought never to satisfy it completely;
you should alarm her every minute; ten times, in
public, she will slight people's opinion for you and
will call that a sacrifice, and, in order to requite
herself for it, she will torment you. Afterwards
she will simply say that she cannot endure you.
If you do not acquire authority over her, even her
first kiss will not give you the right to a second.
She will flirt with you to her heart's content, and,
in two years' time, she will marry a monster, in
obedience to her mother, and will assure herself
that she is unhappy, that she has loved only one
man -- that is to say, you -- but that Heaven was
not willing to unite her to him because he wore a
soldier's cloak, although beneath that thick, grey
cloak beat a heart, passionate and noble" . . .
Grushnitski smote the table with his fist
and fell to walking to and fro across the
room.
I laughed inwardly and even smiled once or
twice, but fortunately he did not notice. It is
evident that he is in love, because he has grown
even more confiding than heretofore. Moreover,
a ring has made its appearance on his finger, a
silver ring with black enamel of local workman-
ship. It struck me as suspicious. . . I began
to examine it, and what do you think I saw? The
name Mary was engraved on the inside in small
letters, and in a line with the name was the date
on which she had picked up the famous tumbler.
I kept my discovery a secret. I do not want to
force confessions from him, I want him, of his
own accord, to choose me as his confidant -- and
then I will enjoy myself! . . .
. . . . .
To-day I rose late. I went to the well. I
found nobody there. The day grew hot. White,
shaggy cloudlets were flitting rapidly from the
snow-clad mountains, giving promise of a thunder-
storm; the summit of Mount Mashuk was
smoking like a just extinguished torch; grey
wisps of cloud were coiling and creeping like
snakes around it, arrested in their rapid sweep
and, as it were, hooked to its prickly brushwood.
The atmosphere was charged with electricity. I
plunged into the avenue of the vines leading to
the grotto.
I felt low-spirited. I was thinking of the lady
with the little mole on her cheek, of whom the
doctor had spoken to me. . . "Why is she
here?" I thought. "And is it she? And what
reason have I for thinking it is? And why am I
so certain of it? Is there not many a woman
with a mole on her cheek?" Reflecting in such
wise I came right up to the grotto. I looked in
and I saw that a woman, wearing a straw hat and
wrapped in a black shawl, was sitting on a stone
seat in the cold shade of the arch. Her head was
sunk upon her breast, and the hat covered her face.
I was just about to turn back, in order not
to disturb her meditations, when she glanced
at me.
"Vera!" I exclaimed involuntarily.
She started and turned pale.
"I knew that you were here," she said.
I sat down beside her and took her hand. A
long-forgotten tremor ran through my veins at
the sound of that dear voice. She gazed into my
face with her deep, calm eyes. Mistrust and
something in the nature of reproach were ex-
pressed in her glance.
"We have not seen each other for a long time,"
I said.
"A long time, and we have both changed in
many ways."
"Consequently you love me no longer?" . . .
"I am married!" . . . she said.
"Again? A few years ago, however, that
reason also existed, but, nevertheless" . . .
She plucked her hand away from mine and her
cheeks flamed.
"Perhaps you love your second husband?" . . .
She made no answer and turned her head
away.
"Or is he very jealous?"
She remained silent.
"What then? He is young, handsome and,
I suppose, rich -- which is the chief thing -- and
you are afraid?" . . .
I glanced at her and was alarmed. Profound
despair was depicted upon her countenance;
tears were glistening in her eyes.
"Tell me," she whispered at length, "do you
find it very amusing to torture me? I ought to
hate you. Since we have known each other, you
have given me naught but suffering" . . .
Her voice shook; she leaned over to me, and
let her head sink upon my breast.
"Perhaps," I reflected, "it is for that very
reason that you have loved me; joys are forgotten,
but sorrows never" . . .
I clasped her closely to my breast, and so we
remained for a long time. At length our lips drew
closer and became blent in a fervent, intoxicating
kiss. Her hands were cold as ice; her head was
burning.
And hereupon we embarked upon one of those
conversations which, on paper, have no sense,
which it is impossible to repeat, and impossible
even to retain in memory. The meaning of the
sounds replaces and completes the meaning of the
words, as in Italian opera.
She is decidedlyaverse to my making the
acquaintance of her husband, the lame old man
of whom I had caught a glimpse on the boulevard.
She married him for the sake of her son. He is
rich, and suffers from attacks of rheumatism. I
did not allow myself even a single scoff at his
expense. She respects him as a father, and will
deceive him as a husband. . . A strange thing,
the human heart in general, and woman's heart
in particular.
Vera's husband, Semyon Vasilevich G----v,
is a distant relation of Princess Ligovski. He
lives next door to her. Vera frequently visits the
Princess. I have given her my promise to make
the Ligovskis' acquaintance, and to pay court to
Princess Mary in order to distract attention from
Vera. In such way, my plans have been not a little
deranged, but it will be amusing for me. . .
Amusing! . . . Yes, I have already passed
that period of spiritual life when happiness alone
is sought, when the heart feels the urgent
necessity of violently and passionately loving
somebody. Now my only wish is to be loved, and
that by very few. I even think that I would be
content with one constantattachment. A
wretched habit of the heart! . . .
One thing has always struck me as strange. I
have never made myself the slave of the woman
I have loved. On the contrary, I have always
acquired an invincible power over her will and
heart, without in the least endeavouring to do so.
Why is this? Is it because I never esteem any-
thing highly, and she has been continually afraid
to let me out of her hands? Or is it the magnetic
influence of a powerful organism? Or is it,
simply, that I have never succeeded in meeting a
woman of stubborncharacter?
I must confess that, in fact, I do not love
women who possess strength of character. What
business have they with such a thing?
Indeed, I remember now. Once and once only
did I love a woman who had a firm will which I
was never able to vanquish. . . We parted as
enemies -- and then, perhaps, if I had met her
five years later we would have parted other-
wise. . .
Vera is ill, very ill, although she does not
admit it. I fear she has consumption, or that
disease which is called "fievre lente" -- a quite un-
Russian disease, and one for which there is no
name in our language.
The storm overtook us while in the grotto and
detained us half an hour longer. Vera did not
make me swear fidelity, or ask whether I had
loved others since we had parted. . . She trusted
querors! You have but to look -- and women
melt. . . But do you know, Pechorin, what
Princess Mary said of you?" . . .
"What? She has spoken to you already
about me?" . . .
"Do not rejoice too soon, though. The other
day, by chance, I entered into conversation with
her at the well; her third word was, 'Who is that
gentleman with such an unpleasant, heavy
glance? He was with you when' . . . she
blushed, and did not like to mention the day,
remembering her own delightful little exploit.
'You need not tell me what day it was,' I
answered; 'it will ever be present to my
memory!' . . . Pechorin, my friend, I cannot
congratulate you, you are in her black books. . .
And, indeed, it is a pity, because Mary is a
charming girl!" . . .
It must be observed that Grushnitski is one of
those men who, in speaking of a woman with
whom they are barely acquainted, call her my
Mary, my Sophie, if she has had the good fortune
to please them.
I assumed a serious air and answered:
"Yes, she is good-looking. . . Only be care-
ful, Grushnitski! Russian ladies, for the most
part, cherish only Platonic love, without mingling
any thought of matrimony with it; and Platonic
love is exceedingly embarrassing. Princess Mary
seems to be one of those women who want to be
amused. If she is bored in your company for two
minutes on end -- you are lost irrevocably. Your
silence ought to excite her curiosity, your con-
versation ought never to satisfy it completely;
you should alarm her every minute; ten times, in
public, she will slight people's opinion for you and
will call that a sacrifice, and, in order to requite
herself for it, she will torment you. Afterwards
she will simply say that she cannot endure you.
If you do not acquire authority over her, even her
first kiss will not give you the right to a second.
She will flirt with you to her heart's content, and,
in two years' time, she will marry a monster, in
obedience to her mother, and will assure herself
that she is unhappy, that she has loved only one
man -- that is to say, you -- but that Heaven was
not willing to unite her to him because he wore a
soldier's cloak, although beneath that thick, grey
cloak beat a heart, passionate and noble" . . .
Grushnitski smote the table with his fist
and fell to walking to and fro across the
room.
I laughed inwardly and even smiled once or
twice, but fortunately he did not notice. It is
evident that he is in love, because he has grown
even more confiding than heretofore. Moreover,
a ring has made its appearance on his finger, a
silver ring with black enamel of local workman-
ship. It struck me as suspicious. . . I began
to examine it, and what do you think I saw? The
name Mary was engraved on the inside in small
letters, and in a line with the name was the date
on which she had picked up the famous tumbler.
I kept my discovery a secret. I do not want to
force confessions from him, I want him, of his
own accord, to choose me as his confidant -- and
then I will enjoy myself! . . .
. . . . .
To-day I rose late. I went to the well. I
found nobody there. The day grew hot. White,
shaggy cloudlets were flitting rapidly from the
snow-clad mountains, giving promise of a thunder-
storm; the summit of Mount Mashuk was
smoking like a just extinguished torch; grey
wisps of cloud were coiling and creeping like
snakes around it, arrested in their rapid sweep
and, as it were, hooked to its prickly brushwood.
The atmosphere was charged with electricity. I
plunged into the avenue of the vines leading to
the grotto.
I felt low-spirited. I was thinking of the lady
with the little mole on her cheek, of whom the
doctor had spoken to me. . . "Why is she
here?" I thought. "And is it she? And what
reason have I for thinking it is? And why am I
so certain of it? Is there not many a woman
with a mole on her cheek?" Reflecting in such
wise I came right up to the grotto. I looked in
and I saw that a woman, wearing a straw hat and
wrapped in a black shawl, was sitting on a stone
seat in the cold shade of the arch. Her head was
sunk upon her breast, and the hat covered her face.
I was just about to turn back, in order not
to disturb her meditations, when she glanced
at me.
"Vera!" I exclaimed involuntarily.
She started and turned pale.
"I knew that you were here," she said.
I sat down beside her and took her hand. A
long-forgotten tremor ran through my veins at
the sound of that dear voice. She gazed into my
face with her deep, calm eyes. Mistrust and
something in the nature of reproach were ex-
pressed in her glance.
"We have not seen each other for a long time,"
I said.
"A long time, and we have both changed in
many ways."
"Consequently you love me no longer?" . . .
"I am married!" . . . she said.
"Again? A few years ago, however, that
reason also existed, but, nevertheless" . . .
She plucked her hand away from mine and her
cheeks flamed.
"Perhaps you love your second husband?" . . .
She made no answer and turned her head
away.
"Or is he very jealous?"
She remained silent.
"What then? He is young, handsome and,
I suppose, rich -- which is the chief thing -- and
you are afraid?" . . .
I glanced at her and was alarmed. Profound
despair was depicted upon her countenance;
tears were glistening in her eyes.
"Tell me," she whispered at length, "do you
find it very amusing to torture me? I ought to
hate you. Since we have known each other, you
have given me naught but suffering" . . .
Her voice shook; she leaned over to me, and
let her head sink upon my breast.
"Perhaps," I reflected, "it is for that very
reason that you have loved me; joys are forgotten,
but sorrows never" . . .
I clasped her closely to my breast, and so we
remained for a long time. At length our lips drew
closer and became blent in a fervent, intoxicating
kiss. Her hands were cold as ice; her head was
burning.
And hereupon we embarked upon one of those
conversations which, on paper, have no sense,
which it is impossible to repeat, and impossible
even to retain in memory. The meaning of the
sounds replaces and completes the meaning of the
words, as in Italian opera.
She is decidedlyaverse to my making the
acquaintance of her husband, the lame old man
of whom I had caught a glimpse on the boulevard.
She married him for the sake of her son. He is
rich, and suffers from attacks of rheumatism. I
did not allow myself even a single scoff at his
expense. She respects him as a father, and will
deceive him as a husband. . . A strange thing,
the human heart in general, and woman's heart
in particular.
Vera's husband, Semyon Vasilevich G----v,
is a distant relation of Princess Ligovski. He
lives next door to her. Vera frequently visits the
Princess. I have given her my promise to make
the Ligovskis' acquaintance, and to pay court to
Princess Mary in order to distract attention from
Vera. In such way, my plans have been not a little
deranged, but it will be amusing for me. . .
Amusing! . . . Yes, I have already passed
that period of spiritual life when happiness alone
is sought, when the heart feels the urgent
necessity of violently and passionately loving
somebody. Now my only wish is to be loved, and
that by very few. I even think that I would be
content with one constantattachment. A
wretched habit of the heart! . . .
One thing has always struck me as strange. I
have never made myself the slave of the woman
I have loved. On the contrary, I have always
acquired an invincible power over her will and
heart, without in the least endeavouring to do so.
Why is this? Is it because I never esteem any-
thing highly, and she has been continually afraid
to let me out of her hands? Or is it the magnetic
influence of a powerful organism? Or is it,
simply, that I have never succeeded in meeting a
woman of stubborncharacter?
I must confess that, in fact, I do not love
women who possess strength of character. What
business have they with such a thing?
Indeed, I remember now. Once and once only
did I love a woman who had a firm will which I
was never able to vanquish. . . We parted as
enemies -- and then, perhaps, if I had met her
five years later we would have parted other-
wise. . .
Vera is ill, very ill, although she does not
admit it. I fear she has consumption, or that
disease which is called "fievre lente" -- a quite un-
Russian disease, and one for which there is no
name in our language.
The storm overtook us while in the grotto and
detained us half an hour longer. Vera did not
make me swear fidelity, or ask whether I had
loved others since we had parted. . . She trusted
- spoken [´spəukən]
speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词) - rejoice [ri´dʒɔis] v.(使)高兴；欢庆 (初中英语单词)
- delightful [di´laitful] a.讨人喜欢的 (初中英语单词)
- barely [´beəli] ad.公开地；仅仅 (初中英语单词)
- princess [,prin´ses] n.公主；王妃；亲王夫人 (初中英语单词)
- excite [ik´sait] vt.激动；引起，招惹 (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- endure [in´djuə] vt.忍耐，忍受；坚持 (初中英语单词)
- acquire [ə´kwaiə] vt.求得，获得，学得 (初中英语单词)
- monster [´mɔnstə] n.怪物 a.大得异常的 (初中英语单词)
- unhappy [ʌn´hæpi] a.不幸的；不快乐的 (初中英语单词)
- willing [´wiliŋ] a.情愿的，乐意的 (初中英语单词)
- accord [ə´kɔ:d] n.&vi.符合 vt.给与 (初中英语单词)
- hooked [hukt] a.钩状的；上瘾的 (初中英语单词)
- atmosphere [´ætməsfiə] n.大气；空气；气氛 (初中英语单词)
- disturb [di´stə:b] vt.扰乱；使不安；打乱 (初中英语单词)
- torture [´tɔ:tʃə] n.&vt.折磨；痛苦；拷问 (初中英语单词)
- retain [ri´tein] vt.保持；保留；留住 (初中英语单词)
- italian [i´tæliən] a.意大利 n.意大利人 (初中英语单词)
- glimpse [glimps] n.&v.瞥见 (初中英语单词)
- acquaintance [ə´kweintəns] n.相识；熟人，相识的人 (初中英语单词)
- spiritual [´spiritʃuəl] a.精神(上)的；神圣的 (初中英语单词)
- constant [´kɔnstənt] a.坚定的；坚贞的 (初中英语单词)
- contrary [´kɔntrəri] a.相反的 n.相反 (初中英语单词)
- confess [kən´fes] vt.供认；坦白；承认 (初中英语单词)
- character [´kæriktə] n.特性；性质；人物；字 (初中英语单词)
- unpleasant [ʌn´plezənt] a.不愉快的；不合意的 (高中英语单词)
- cherish [´tʃeriʃ] vt.珍爱；怀有(感情) (高中英语单词)
- exceedingly [ik´si:diŋli] ad.非常地，极度地 (高中英语单词)
- torment [´tɔ:ment] vt.(使)痛苦，折磨 (高中英语单词)
- passionate [´pæʃənit] a.易动情的；易怒的 (高中英语单词)
- fortunately [´fɔ:tʃənətli] ad.幸运地 (高中英语单词)
- suspicious [sə´spiʃəs] a.可疑的，多疑的 (高中英语单词)
- summit [´sʌmit] n.顶(点)；绝顶 (高中英语单词)
- electricity [i,lek´trisiti] n.电；电学；电流 (高中英语单词)
- reproach [ri´prəutʃ] vt.&n.责备；指责；耻辱 (高中英语单词)
- amusing [ə´mju:ziŋ] a.有趣的 (高中英语单词)
- naught [nɔ:t] n.无；零 (高中英语单词)
- decidedly [di´saididli] ad.坚决地，果断地 (高中英语单词)
- distract [di´strækt] vt.使分心 (高中英语单词)
- violently [´vaiələntli] ad.强暴地；猛烈地 (高中英语单词)
- esteem [i´sti:m] n.尊重 vt.认为；感到 (高中英语单词)
- continually [kən´tinjuəli] ad.不断地，频繁地 (高中英语单词)
- organism [´ɔ:gənizəm] n.生物体；有机体 (高中英语单词)
- stubborn [´stʌbən] a.顽固的；坚持的 (高中英语单词)
- consumption [kən´sʌmpʃən] n.消耗；结核病 (高中英语单词)
- heretofore [,hiətu´fɔ:] ad.以前，迄今为止 (英语四级单词)
- enamel [i´næm(ə)l] n.搪瓷；珐琅 (英语四级单词)
- rheumatism [´ru:mətizəm] n.风湿病 (英语四级单词)
- passionately [´pæʃənitli] ad.多情地；热烈地 (英语四级单词)
- attachment [ə´tætʃmənt] n.附着；附件；爱慕 (英语四级单词)
- vanquish [´væŋkwiʃ] vt.征服，克服；击败 (英语四级单词)
- overtook [,əuvə´tuk] overtake的过去式 (英语四级单词)
- fidelity [fi´deliti] n.忠实；精确；保真度 (英语四级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- good-looking [] a.漂亮的，美貌的 (英语六级单词)
- inwardly [´inwədli] ad.内向；独自地 (英语六级单词)
- grotto [´grɔtəu] n.岩穴；洞室 (英语六级单词)
- mistrust [mis´trʌst] v.&n.不信任；怀疑 (英语六级单词)
- fervent [´fə:vənt] a.强烈的；热情的 (英语六级单词)
- averse [ə´və:s] a.反对的，不乐意的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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