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THE DEATH OF IVAN ILYCH.TXT-Part5_LEO TOLSTOY (1828-1910)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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should an examination of the urine give fresh indications the



matter would be reconsidered. All this was just what Ivan Ilych

had himself brilliantlyaccomplished a thousand times in dealing



with men on trial. The doctor summed up just as brilliantly,

looking over his spectacles triumphantly and even gaily at the



accused. From the doctor's summing up Ivan Ilych concluded that

things were bad, but that for the doctor, and perhaps for everybody



else, it was a matter of indifference, though for him it was bad.

And this conclusion struck him painfully, arousing in him a great



feeling of pity for himself and of bitterness towards the doctor's

indifference to a matter of such importance.



He said nothing of this, but rose, placed the doctor's fee on

the table, and remarked with a sigh: "We sick people probably



often put inappropriate questions. But tell me, in general, is

this complaint dangerous, or not?..."



The doctor looked at him sternly over his spectacles with one

eye, as if to say: "Prisoner, if you will not keep to the



questions put to you, I shall be obliged to have you removed from

the court."



"I have already told you what I consider necessary and proper.

The analysis may show something more." And the doctor bowed.



Ivan Ilych went out slowly, seated himself disconsolately in

his sledge, and drove home. All the way home he was going over



what the doctor had said, trying to translate those complicated,

obscure, scientific phrases into plain language and find in them an



answer to the question: "Is my condition bad? Is it very bad? Or

is there as yet nothing much wrong?" And it seemed to him that the



meaning of what the doctor had said was that it was very bad.

Everything in the streets seemed depressing. The cabmen, the



houses, the passers-by, and the shops, were dismal. His ache, this

dull gnawing ache that never ceased for a moment, seemed to have



acquired a new and more serious significance from the doctor's

dubious remarks. Ivan Ilych now watched it with a new and



oppressive feeling.

He reached home and began to tell his wife about it. She



listened, but in the middle of his account his daughter came in

with her hat on, ready to go out with her mother. She sat down



reluctantly to listen to this tedious story, but could not stand it

long, and her mother too did not hear him to the end.



"Well, I am very glad," she said. "Mind now to take your

medicine regularly. Give me the prescription and I'll send Gerasim



to the chemist's." And she went to get ready to go out.

While she was in the room Ivan Ilych had hardly taken time to



breathe, but he sighed deeply when she left it.

"Well," he thought, "perhaps it isn't so bad after all."



He began taking his medicine and following the doctor's

directions, which had been altered after the examination of the



urine. but then it happened that there was a contradiction between

the indications drawn from the examination of the urine and the



symptoms that showed themselves. It turned out that what was

happening differed from what the doctor had told him, and that he



had either forgotten or blundered, or hidden something from him.

He could not, however, be blamed for that, and Ivan Ilych still



obeyed his orders implicitly and at first derived some comfort from

doing so.



From the time of his visit to the doctor, Ivan Ilych's chief

occupation was the exact fulfillment of the doctor's instructions



regarding hygiene and the taking of medicine, and the observation

of his pain and his excretions. His chief interest came to be



people's ailments and people's health. When sickness, deaths, or

recoveries were mentioned in his presence, especially when the



illness resembled his own, he listened with agitation which he

tried to hide, asked questions, and applied what he heard to his



own case.

The pain did not grow less, but Ivan Ilych made efforts to



force himself to think that he was better. And he could do this so

long as nothing agitated him. But as soon as he had any



unpleasantness with his wife, any lack of success in his official

work, or held bad cards at bridge, he was at once acutely sensible



of his disease. He had formerly borne such mischances, hoping soon

to adjust what was wrong, to master it and attain success, or make






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