章节正文
had struck her to the heart -- well and good,
everything would at least have been finished there
and then; but to stab her in the back like
that -- the scoundrel! She was unconscious. We
tore the veil into strips and bound up the
wound as tightly as we could. In vain Pechorin
kissed her cold lips -- it was impossible to bring
her to.
"Pechorin mounted; I lifted Bela from the
ground and somehow managed to place her
before him on his saddle; he put his arm round
her and we rode back.
"'Look here, Maksim Maksimych,' said
Grigori Aleksandrovich, after a few moments of
silence. 'We will never bring her in alive like this.'
"'True!' I said, and we put our horses to a
full gallop.
CHAPTER XI
"A CROWD was awaiting us at the fortress
gate. Carefully we carried the wounded
girl to Pechorin's quarters, and then we sent for
the doctor. The latter was drunk, but he came,
examined the wound, and announced that she
could not live more than a day. He was mistaken,
though."
"She recovered?" I asked the staff-captain,
seizing him by the arm, and involuntarily re-
joicing.
"No," he replied, "but the doctor was so far
mistaken that she lived two days longer."
"Explain, though, how Kazbich made off
with her!"
"It was like this: in spite of Pechorin's pro-
hibition, she went out of the fortress and down
to the river. It was a very hot day, you know,
and she sat on a rock and dipped her feet in
the water. Up crept Kazbich, pounced upon her,
silenced her, and dragged her into the bushes.
Then he sprang on his horse and made off.
In the meantime she succeeded in crying out,
the sentries took the alarm, fired, but wide of the
mark; and thereupon we arrived on the scene."
"But what did Kazbich want to carry her off
for?"
"Good gracious! Why, everyone knows these
Circassians are a race of thieves; they can't keep
their hands off anything that is left lying about!
They may not want a thing, but they will steal
it, for all that. Still, you mustn't be too hard on
them. And, besides, he had been in love with
her for a long time."
"And Bela died?"
"Yes, she died, but she suffered for a long time,
and we were fairly knocked up with her, I can
tell you. About ten o'clock in the evening she
came to herself. We were sitting by her bed.
As soon as ever she opened her eyes she began to
call Pechorin.
"'I am here beside you, my janechka' (that is,
'my darling'), he answered, taking her by the
hand.
"'I shall die,' she said.
"We began to comfort her, telling her that
the doctor had promised infallibly to cure her.
She shook her little head and turned to the wall --
she did not want to die! . . .
"At night she became delirious, her head
burned, at times a feverish paroxysm convulsed
her whole body. She talked incoherently about
her father, her brother; she yearned for the
mountains, for her home. . . Then she spoke
of Pechorin also, called him various fond names,
or reproached him for having ceased to love his
janechka.
He listened to her in silence, his head sunk
in his hands; but yet, during the whole time, I
did not notice a single tear-drop on his lashes. I
do not know whether he was actuallyunable to
weep or was mastering himself; but for my
part I have never seen anything more pitiful.
"Towards morning the delirium passed off.
For an hour or so she lay motionless, pale, and so
weak that it was hardly possible to observe that
she was breathing. After that she grew better
and began to talk: only about what, think you?
Such thoughts come only to the dying! . . .
She lamented that she was not a Christian,
that in the other world her soul would
never meet the soul of Grigori Aleksandrovich,
and that in Paradise another woman would be
his companion. The thought occurred to me
to baptize her before her death. I told her my
idea; she looked at me undecidedly, and for a
long time was unable to utter a word. Finally
she answered that she would die in the faith
in which she had been born. A whole day passed
thus. What a change that day made in her!
Her pale cheeks fell in, her eyes grew ever so
large, her lips burned. She felt a consuming
heat within her, as though a red-hot blade was
piercing her breast.
"The second night came on. We did not
close our eyes or leave the bedside. She
suffered terribly, and groaned; and directly the
pain began to abate she endeavoured to assure
Grigori Aleksandrovich that she felt better,
tried to persuade him to go to bed, kissed his
hand and would not let it out of hers. Before
the morning she began to feel the death agony
and to toss about. She knocked the bandage off,
and the blood flowed afresh. When the wound
was bound up again she grew quiet for a moment
and begged Pechorin to kiss her. He fell on his
knees beside the bed, raised her head from the
pillow, and pressed his lips to hers -- which were
growing cold. She threw her trembling arms
closely round his neck, as if with that kiss she
wished to yield up her soul to him. -- No, she
did well to die! Why, what would have become
of her if Grigori Aleksandrovich had abandoned
her? And that is what would have happened,
sooner or later.
"During half the following day she was calm,
silent and docile, however much the doctor
tortured her with his fomentations and mixtures.
"'Good heavens!' I said to him, 'you know
you said yourself that she was certain to die,
so what is the good of all these preparations of
yours?'
"'Even so, it is better to do all this,' he replied,
'so that I may have an easy conscience.'
"A pretty conscience, forsooth!
"After midday Bela began to suffer from
thirst. We opened the windows, but it was
hotter outside than in the room; we placed
ice round the bed -- all to no purpose. I knew
that that intolerablethirst was a sign of the
approaching end, and I told Pechorin so.
"'Water, water!' she said in a hoarse voice,
raising herself up from the bed.
"Pechorin turned pale as a sheet, seized a
glass, filled it, and gave it to her. I covered my
eyes with my hands and began to say a prayer --
I can't remember what. . . Yes, my friend,
many a time have I seen people die in hospitals
or on the field of battle, but this was something
altogether different! Still, this one thing grieves
me, I must confess: she died without even once
calling me to mind. Yet I loved her, I should
think, like a father! . . . Well, God forgive
her! . . . And, to tell the truth, what am I
that she should have remembered me when she
was dying? . . .
"As soon as she had drunk the water, she grew
easier -- but in about three minutes she breathed
her last! We put a looking-glass to her lips -- it
was undimmed!
"I led Pechorin from the room, and we went
on to the fortressrampart. For a long time we
walked side by side, to and fro, speaking not a
word and with our hands clasped behind our
backs. His face expressed nothing out of the
common -- and that vexed me. Had I been in his
place, I should have died of grief. At length he
sat down on the ground in the shade and began
to draw something in the sand with his stick.
More for form's sake than anything, you know,
I tried to console him and began to talk. He
raised his head and burst into a laugh! At that
laugh a cold shudder ran through me. . . I
went away to order a coffin.
"I confess it was partly to distract my thoughts
that I busied myself in that way. I possessed a
little piece of Circassian stuff, and I covered the
coffin with it, and decked it with some Circassian
silver lace which Grigori Aleksandrovich had
bought for Bela herself.
"Early next morning we buried her behind the
fortress, by the river, beside the spot where she
had sat for the last time. Around her little
grave white acacia shrubs and elder-trees have
now grown up. I should have liked to erect a
cross, but that would not have done, you know --
after all, she was not a Christian."
"And what of Pechorin?" I asked.
"Pechorin was ill for a long time, and grew
thin, poor fellow; but we never spoke of Bela
from that time forth. I saw that it would be dis-
agreeable to him, so what would have been the
use? About three months later he was appointed
to the E---- Regiment, and departed for
Georgia. We have never met since. Yet, when
I come to think of it, somebody told me not long
ago that he had returned to Russia -- but it was
not in the general orders for the corps. Besides,
to the like of us news is late in coming."
Hereupon -- probably to drown sad memories --
he launched forth into a lengthy dissertation
on the unpleasantness of learning news a year
late.
I did not interrupt him, nor did I listen.
everything would at least have been finished there
and then; but to stab her in the back like
that -- the scoundrel! She was unconscious. We
tore the veil into strips and bound up the
wound as tightly as we could. In vain Pechorin
kissed her cold lips -- it was impossible to bring
her to.
"Pechorin mounted; I lifted Bela from the
ground and somehow managed to place her
before him on his saddle; he put his arm round
her and we rode back.
"'Look here, Maksim Maksimych,' said
Grigori Aleksandrovich, after a few moments of
silence. 'We will never bring her in alive like this.'
"'True!' I said, and we put our horses to a
full gallop.
CHAPTER XI
"A CROWD was awaiting us at the fortress
gate. Carefully we carried the wounded
girl to Pechorin's quarters, and then we sent for
the doctor. The latter was drunk, but he came,
examined the wound, and announced that she
could not live more than a day. He was mistaken,
though."
"She recovered?" I asked the staff-captain,
seizing him by the arm, and involuntarily re-
joicing.
"No," he replied, "but the doctor was so far
mistaken that she lived two days longer."
"Explain, though, how Kazbich made off
with her!"
"It was like this: in spite of Pechorin's pro-
hibition, she went out of the fortress and down
to the river. It was a very hot day, you know,
and she sat on a rock and dipped her feet in
the water. Up crept Kazbich, pounced upon her,
silenced her, and dragged her into the bushes.
Then he sprang on his horse and made off.
In the meantime she succeeded in crying out,
the sentries took the alarm, fired, but wide of the
mark; and thereupon we arrived on the scene."
"But what did Kazbich want to carry her off
for?"
"Good gracious! Why, everyone knows these
Circassians are a race of thieves; they can't keep
their hands off anything that is left lying about!
They may not want a thing, but they will steal
it, for all that. Still, you mustn't be too hard on
them. And, besides, he had been in love with
her for a long time."
"And Bela died?"
"Yes, she died, but she suffered for a long time,
and we were fairly knocked up with her, I can
tell you. About ten o'clock in the evening she
came to herself. We were sitting by her bed.
As soon as ever she opened her eyes she began to
call Pechorin.
"'I am here beside you, my janechka' (that is,
'my darling'), he answered, taking her by the
hand.
"'I shall die,' she said.
"We began to comfort her, telling her that
the doctor had promised infallibly to cure her.
She shook her little head and turned to the wall --
she did not want to die! . . .
"At night she became delirious, her head
burned, at times a feverish paroxysm convulsed
her whole body. She talked incoherently about
her father, her brother; she yearned for the
mountains, for her home. . . Then she spoke
of Pechorin also, called him various fond names,
or reproached him for having ceased to love his
janechka.
He listened to her in silence, his head sunk
in his hands; but yet, during the whole time, I
did not notice a single tear-drop on his lashes. I
do not know whether he was actuallyunable to
weep or was mastering himself; but for my
part I have never seen anything more pitiful.
"Towards morning the delirium passed off.
For an hour or so she lay motionless, pale, and so
weak that it was hardly possible to observe that
she was breathing. After that she grew better
and began to talk: only about what, think you?
Such thoughts come only to the dying! . . .
She lamented that she was not a Christian,
that in the other world her soul would
never meet the soul of Grigori Aleksandrovich,
and that in Paradise another woman would be
his companion. The thought occurred to me
to baptize her before her death. I told her my
idea; she looked at me undecidedly, and for a
long time was unable to utter a word. Finally
she answered that she would die in the faith
in which she had been born. A whole day passed
thus. What a change that day made in her!
Her pale cheeks fell in, her eyes grew ever so
large, her lips burned. She felt a consuming
heat within her, as though a red-hot blade was
piercing her breast.
"The second night came on. We did not
close our eyes or leave the bedside. She
suffered terribly, and groaned; and directly the
pain began to abate she endeavoured to assure
Grigori Aleksandrovich that she felt better,
tried to persuade him to go to bed, kissed his
hand and would not let it out of hers. Before
the morning she began to feel the death agony
and to toss about. She knocked the bandage off,
and the blood flowed afresh. When the wound
was bound up again she grew quiet for a moment
and begged Pechorin to kiss her. He fell on his
knees beside the bed, raised her head from the
pillow, and pressed his lips to hers -- which were
growing cold. She threw her trembling arms
closely round his neck, as if with that kiss she
wished to yield up her soul to him. -- No, she
did well to die! Why, what would have become
of her if Grigori Aleksandrovich had abandoned
her? And that is what would have happened,
sooner or later.
"During half the following day she was calm,
silent and docile, however much the doctor
tortured her with his fomentations and mixtures.
"'Good heavens!' I said to him, 'you know
you said yourself that she was certain to die,
so what is the good of all these preparations of
yours?'
"'Even so, it is better to do all this,' he replied,
'so that I may have an easy conscience.'
"A pretty conscience, forsooth!
"After midday Bela began to suffer from
thirst. We opened the windows, but it was
hotter outside than in the room; we placed
ice round the bed -- all to no purpose. I knew
that that intolerablethirst was a sign of the
approaching end, and I told Pechorin so.
"'Water, water!' she said in a hoarse voice,
raising herself up from the bed.
"Pechorin turned pale as a sheet, seized a
glass, filled it, and gave it to her. I covered my
eyes with my hands and began to say a prayer --
I can't remember what. . . Yes, my friend,
many a time have I seen people die in hospitals
or on the field of battle, but this was something
altogether different! Still, this one thing grieves
me, I must confess: she died without even once
calling me to mind. Yet I loved her, I should
think, like a father! . . . Well, God forgive
her! . . . And, to tell the truth, what am I
that she should have remembered me when she
was dying? . . .
"As soon as she had drunk the water, she grew
easier -- but in about three minutes she breathed
her last! We put a looking-glass to her lips -- it
was undimmed!
"I led Pechorin from the room, and we went
on to the fortressrampart. For a long time we
walked side by side, to and fro, speaking not a
word and with our hands clasped behind our
backs. His face expressed nothing out of the
common -- and that vexed me. Had I been in his
place, I should have died of grief. At length he
sat down on the ground in the shade and began
to draw something in the sand with his stick.
More for form's sake than anything, you know,
I tried to console him and began to talk. He
raised his head and burst into a laugh! At that
laugh a cold shudder ran through me. . . I
went away to order a coffin.
"I confess it was partly to distract my thoughts
that I busied myself in that way. I possessed a
little piece of Circassian stuff, and I covered the
coffin with it, and decked it with some Circassian
silver lace which Grigori Aleksandrovich had
bought for Bela herself.
"Early next morning we buried her behind the
fortress, by the river, beside the spot where she
had sat for the last time. Around her little
grave white acacia shrubs and elder-trees have
now grown up. I should have liked to erect a
cross, but that would not have done, you know --
after all, she was not a Christian."
"And what of Pechorin?" I asked.
"Pechorin was ill for a long time, and grew
thin, poor fellow; but we never spoke of Bela
from that time forth. I saw that it would be dis-
agreeable to him, so what would have been the
use? About three months later he was appointed
to the E---- Regiment, and departed for
Georgia. We have never met since. Yet, when
I come to think of it, somebody told me not long
ago that he had returned to Russia -- but it was
not in the general orders for the corps. Besides,
to the like of us news is late in coming."
Hereupon -- probably to drown sad memories --
he launched forth into a lengthy dissertation
on the unpleasantness of learning news a year
late.
I did not interrupt him, nor did I listen.
- saddle [´sædl]
n.鞍子 v.装鞍(于) (初中英语单词) - sprang [spræŋ] spring 的过去式 (初中英语单词)
- meantime [´mi:ntaim] n.&ad.其间；同时 (初中英语单词)
- thereupon [,ðeərə´pɔn] ad.因此；于是 (初中英语单词)
- everyone [´evriwʌn] pron.=everybody 每人 (初中英语单词)
- actually [´æktʃuəli] ad.事实上；实际上 (初中英语单词)
- unable [ʌn´eibəl] a.不能的；无能为力的 (初中英语单词)
- paradise [´pærədais] n.天堂；乐园 (初中英语单词)
- companion [kəm´pæniən] n.同伴；同事；伴侣 (初中英语单词)
- terribly [´terəbli] ad.可怕地 (初中英语单词)
- persuade [pə´sweid] v.(被)说服；使相信 (初中英语单词)
- conscience [´kɔnʃəns] n.良心；道德心 (初中英语单词)
- thirst [θə:st] n.渴，口渴；渴望 (初中英语单词)
- confess [kən´fes] vt.供认；坦白；承认 (初中英语单词)
- partly [´pɑ:tli] ad.部分地；不完全地 (初中英语单词)
- regiment [´redʒimənt] n.团；一大群 (初中英语单词)
- learning [´lə:niŋ] n.学习；学问；知识 (初中英语单词)
- interrupt [,intə´rʌpt] v.中断；打扰 (初中英语单词)
- unconscious [ʌn´kɔnʃəs] a.无意识的；不觉察的 (高中英语单词)
- tightly [´taitli] ad.紧，紧密地 (高中英语单词)
- fortress [´fɔ:tris] n.堡垒，要塞 (高中英语单词)
- motionless [´məuʃənləs] a.静止的；固定的 (高中英语单词)
- bandage [´bændidʒ] n.绷带 vt.用绷带包扎 (高中英语单词)
- shudder [´ʃʌdə] n.&vi.震颤；发抖 (高中英语单词)
- distract [di´strækt] vt.使分心 (高中英语单词)
- thieves [θi:vz] thief的复数 (英语四级单词)
- feverish [´fi:vəriʃ] a.发烧的；狂热的 (英语四级单词)
- bedside [´bedsaid] n.床边 a.护理的 (英语四级单词)
- midday [´middei] n.中午 (英语四级单词)
- intolerable [in´tɔlərəb(ə)l] a.无法忍受的 (英语四级单词)
- hoarse [hɔ:s] a.嘶哑的；嗓门粗哑的 (英语四级单词)
- console [kən´səul] vt.安慰；慰问 (英语四级单词)
- involuntarily [in´vɔləntərili] ad.不 自觉地 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- baptize [bæp´taiz] vt.给...施洗礼；命名 (英语六级单词)
- rampart [´ræmpɑ:t] n.壁垒 vt.防护 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- departed [di´pɑ:tid] a.已往的；已故的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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