章节正文
male mind; it is difficult to convince a woman
of anything; they have to be led into convincing
themselves. The order of the proofs by which
they demolish their prejudices is most original;
to learn their dialectic it is necessary to over-
throw in your own mind every scholastic rule of
logic. For example, the usual way:
"This man loves me; but I am married:
therefore I must not love him."
The woman's way:
"I must not love him, because I am married;
but he loves me -- therefore" . . .
A few dots here, because reason has no more
to say. But, generally, there is something to be
said by the tongue, and the eyes, and, after these,
the heart -- if there is such a thing.
What if these notes should one day meet a
woman's eye?
"Slander!" she will exclaim indignantly.
Ever since poets have written and women have
read them (for which the poets should be most
deeply grateful) women have been called angels
so many times that, in very truth, in their sim-
plicity of soul, they have believed the compli-
ment, forgetting that, for money, the same poets
have glorified Nero as a demigod. . .
It would be unreasonable were I to speak of
women with such malignity -- I who have loved
nothing else in the world -- I who have always
been ready to sacrifice for their sake ease, am-
bition, life itself. . . But, you see, I am not
endeavouring, in a fit of vexation and injured
vanity, to pluck from them the magic veil through
which only an accustomed glance can penetrate.
No, all that I say about them is but the result of
"A mind which coldly hath observed,
A heart which bears the stamp of woe."[1]
[1] Pushkin: Eugene Onyegin.
Women ought to wish that all men knew them
as well as I because I have loved them a hundred
times better since I have ceased to be afraid of them
and have comprehended their little weaknesses.
By the way: the other day, Werner compared
women to the enchanted forest of which Tasso
tells in his "Jerusalem Delivered."[2]
"So soon as you approach," he said, "from all
directions terrors, such as I pray Heaven may
preserve us from, will take wing at you: duty,
pride, decorum, public opinion, ridicule, con-
tempt. . . You must simply go straight on
without looking at them; gradually the monsters
disappear, and, before you, opens a bright and
quiet glade, in the midst of which blooms the
green myrtle. On the other hand, woe to you if,
at the first steps, your heart trembles and you
turn back!"
[2] Canto XVIII, 10:
"Quinci al bosco t' invia, dove cotanti
Son fantasmi inganne vole e bugiardi" . . .
CHAPTER XV
24th June.
THIS evening has been fertile in events.
About three versts from Kislovodsk, in the
gorge through which the Podkumok flows, there
is a cliff called the Ring. It is a naturally formed
gate, rising upon a lofty hill, and through it the
setting sun throws its last flaming glance upon
the world. A numerous cavalcade set off thither
to gaze at the sunset through the rock-window.
To tell the truth, not one of them was thinking
about the sun. I rode beside Princess Mary. On
the way home, we had to ford the Podkumok.
Mountain streams, even the smallest, are danger-
ous; especially so, because the bottom is a perfect
kaleidoscope: it changes every day owing to the
pressure of the current; where yesterday there
was a rock, to-day there is a cavity. I took Prin-
cess Mary's horse by the bridle and led it into the
water, which came no higher than its knees. We
began to move slowly in a slanting direction
against the current. It is a well-known fact that,
in crossing rapid streamlets, you should never look
at the water, because, if you do, your head begins
to whirl directly. I forgot to warn Princess Mary
of that.
We had reached the middle and were right in
the vortex, when suddenly she reeled in her
saddle.
"I feel ill!" she said in a faint voice.
I bent over to her rapidly and threw my arm
around her supple waist.
"Look up!" I whispered. "It is nothing;
just be brave! I am with you."
She grew better; she was about to disengage
herself from my arm, but I clasped her tender,
soft figure in a still closer embrace; my cheek
almost touched hers, from which was wafted
flame.
"What are you doing to me? . . . Oh,
Heaven!" . . .
I paid no attention to her alarm and confusion,
and my lips touched her tender cheek. She shud-
dered, but said nothing. We were riding behind
the others: nobody saw us.
When we made our way out on the bank, the
horses were all put to the trot. Princess Mary
kept hers back; I remained beside her. It was
evident that my silence was making her uneasy,
but I swore to myself that I would not speak a
single word -- out of curiosity. I wanted to see
how she would extricate herself from that em-
barrassing position.
"Either you despise me, or you love me very
much!" she said at length, and there were tears
in her voice. "Perhaps you want to laugh at me,
to excite my soul and then to abandon me. . .
That would be so base, so vile, that the mere
supposition . . . Oh, no!" she added, in a voice
of tender trustfulness; "there is nothing in me
which would preclude respect; is it not so?
Your presumptuous action . . . I must, I must
forgive you for it, because I permitted it. . .
Answer, speak, I want to hear your voice!" . . .
There was such womanly impatience in her last
words that, involuntarily, I smiled; happily it
was beginning to grow dusk. . . I made no
answer.
"You are silent!" she continued; "you wish,
perhaps, that I should be the first to tell you that
I love you." . . .
I remained silent.
"Is that what you wish?" she continued,
turning rapidly towards me. . . . There was
something terrible in the determination of her
glance and voice.
"Why?" I answered, shrugging my shoulders.
She struck her horse with her riding-whip and
set off at full gallop along the narrow, dangerous
road. It all happened so quickly that I was
scarcely able to overtake her, and then only by
the time she had joined the rest of the company.
All the way home she was continually talk-
ing and laughing. There was something feverish
in her movements; not once did she look in
my direction. Everybody observed her unusual
gaiety. Princess Ligovski rejoiced inwardly as she
looked at her daughter. However, the latter
simply has a fit of nerves: she will spend a sleep-
less night, and will weep.
This thought affords me measureless delight:
there are moments when I understand the Vam-
pire. . . And yet I am reputed to be a good
fellow, and I strive to earn that designation!
On dismounting, the ladies went into Princess
Ligovski's house. I was excited, and I galloped
to the mountains in order to dispel the thoughts
which had thronged into my head. The dewy
evening breathed an intoxicating coolness. The
moon was rising from behind the dark summits.
Each step of my unshod horse resounded hollowly
in the silence of the gorges. I watered the horse
at the waterfall, and then, after greedily inhaling
once or twice the fresh air of the southern night,
I set off on my way back. I rode through the
village. The lights in the windows were begin-
ning to go out; the sentries on the fortress-
rampart and the Cossacks in the surrounding
pickets were calling out in drawling tones to one
another.
In one of the village houses, built at the edge
of a ravine, I noticed an extraordinary illumina-
tion. At times, discordant murmurs and shouting
could be heard, proving that a military carouse
was in full swing. I dismounted and crept up to
the window. The shutter had not been made
fast, and I could see the banqueters and catch
what they were saying. They were talking about
me.
The captain of dragoons, flushed with wine,
struck the table with his fist, demanding attention.
"Gentlemen!" he said, "this won't do!
Pechorin must be taught a lesson! These Peters-
burg fledglings always carry their heads high until
they get a slap in the face! He thinks that be-
cause he always wears clean gloves and polished
boots he is the only one who has ever lived in
society. And what a haughty smile! All the
same, I am convinced that he is a coward -- yes, a
coward!"
"I think so too," said Grushnitski. "He is
fond of getting himself out of trouble by pre-
tending to be only having a joke. I once gave him
such a talking to that anyone else in his place
would have cut me to pieces on the spot. But
Pechorin turned it all to the ridiculous side. I,
of course, did not call him out because that was
his business, but he did not care to have anything
more to do with it."
"Grushnitski is angry with him for having
captured Princess Mary from him," somebody
said.
of anything; they have to be led into convincing
themselves. The order of the proofs by which
they demolish their prejudices is most original;
to learn their dialectic it is necessary to over-
throw in your own mind every scholastic rule of
logic. For example, the usual way:
"This man loves me; but I am married:
therefore I must not love him."
The woman's way:
"I must not love him, because I am married;
but he loves me -- therefore" . . .
A few dots here, because reason has no more
to say. But, generally, there is something to be
said by the tongue, and the eyes, and, after these,
the heart -- if there is such a thing.
What if these notes should one day meet a
woman's eye?
"Slander!" she will exclaim indignantly.
Ever since poets have written and women have
read them (for which the poets should be most
deeply grateful) women have been called angels
so many times that, in very truth, in their sim-
plicity of soul, they have believed the compli-
ment, forgetting that, for money, the same poets
have glorified Nero as a demigod. . .
It would be unreasonable were I to speak of
women with such malignity -- I who have loved
nothing else in the world -- I who have always
been ready to sacrifice for their sake ease, am-
bition, life itself. . . But, you see, I am not
endeavouring, in a fit of vexation and injured
vanity, to pluck from them the magic veil through
which only an accustomed glance can penetrate.
No, all that I say about them is but the result of
"A mind which coldly hath observed,
A heart which bears the stamp of woe."[1]
[1] Pushkin: Eugene Onyegin.
Women ought to wish that all men knew them
as well as I because I have loved them a hundred
times better since I have ceased to be afraid of them
and have comprehended their little weaknesses.
By the way: the other day, Werner compared
women to the enchanted forest of which Tasso
tells in his "Jerusalem Delivered."[2]
"So soon as you approach," he said, "from all
directions terrors, such as I pray Heaven may
preserve us from, will take wing at you: duty,
pride, decorum, public opinion, ridicule, con-
tempt. . . You must simply go straight on
without looking at them; gradually the monsters
disappear, and, before you, opens a bright and
quiet glade, in the midst of which blooms the
green myrtle. On the other hand, woe to you if,
at the first steps, your heart trembles and you
turn back!"
[2] Canto XVIII, 10:
"Quinci al bosco t' invia, dove cotanti
Son fantasmi inganne vole e bugiardi" . . .
CHAPTER XV
24th June.
THIS evening has been fertile in events.
About three versts from Kislovodsk, in the
gorge through which the Podkumok flows, there
is a cliff called the Ring. It is a naturally formed
gate, rising upon a lofty hill, and through it the
setting sun throws its last flaming glance upon
the world. A numerous cavalcade set off thither
to gaze at the sunset through the rock-window.
To tell the truth, not one of them was thinking
about the sun. I rode beside Princess Mary. On
the way home, we had to ford the Podkumok.
Mountain streams, even the smallest, are danger-
ous; especially so, because the bottom is a perfect
kaleidoscope: it changes every day owing to the
pressure of the current; where yesterday there
was a rock, to-day there is a cavity. I took Prin-
cess Mary's horse by the bridle and led it into the
water, which came no higher than its knees. We
began to move slowly in a slanting direction
against the current. It is a well-known fact that,
in crossing rapid streamlets, you should never look
at the water, because, if you do, your head begins
to whirl directly. I forgot to warn Princess Mary
of that.
We had reached the middle and were right in
the vortex, when suddenly she reeled in her
saddle.
"I feel ill!" she said in a faint voice.
I bent over to her rapidly and threw my arm
around her supple waist.
"Look up!" I whispered. "It is nothing;
just be brave! I am with you."
She grew better; she was about to disengage
herself from my arm, but I clasped her tender,
soft figure in a still closer embrace; my cheek
almost touched hers, from which was wafted
flame.
"What are you doing to me? . . . Oh,
Heaven!" . . .
I paid no attention to her alarm and confusion,
and my lips touched her tender cheek. She shud-
dered, but said nothing. We were riding behind
the others: nobody saw us.
When we made our way out on the bank, the
horses were all put to the trot. Princess Mary
kept hers back; I remained beside her. It was
evident that my silence was making her uneasy,
but I swore to myself that I would not speak a
single word -- out of curiosity. I wanted to see
how she would extricate herself from that em-
barrassing position.
"Either you despise me, or you love me very
much!" she said at length, and there were tears
in her voice. "Perhaps you want to laugh at me,
to excite my soul and then to abandon me. . .
That would be so base, so vile, that the mere
supposition . . . Oh, no!" she added, in a voice
of tender trustfulness; "there is nothing in me
which would preclude respect; is it not so?
Your presumptuous action . . . I must, I must
forgive you for it, because I permitted it. . .
Answer, speak, I want to hear your voice!" . . .
There was such womanly impatience in her last
words that, involuntarily, I smiled; happily it
was beginning to grow dusk. . . I made no
answer.
"You are silent!" she continued; "you wish,
perhaps, that I should be the first to tell you that
I love you." . . .
I remained silent.
"Is that what you wish?" she continued,
turning rapidly towards me. . . . There was
something terrible in the determination of her
glance and voice.
"Why?" I answered, shrugging my shoulders.
She struck her horse with her riding-whip and
set off at full gallop along the narrow, dangerous
road. It all happened so quickly that I was
scarcely able to overtake her, and then only by
the time she had joined the rest of the company.
All the way home she was continually talk-
ing and laughing. There was something feverish
in her movements; not once did she look in
my direction. Everybody observed her unusual
gaiety. Princess Ligovski rejoiced inwardly as she
looked at her daughter. However, the latter
simply has a fit of nerves: she will spend a sleep-
less night, and will weep.
This thought affords me measureless delight:
there are moments when I understand the Vam-
pire. . . And yet I am reputed to be a good
fellow, and I strive to earn that designation!
On dismounting, the ladies went into Princess
Ligovski's house. I was excited, and I galloped
to the mountains in order to dispel the thoughts
which had thronged into my head. The dewy
evening breathed an intoxicating coolness. The
moon was rising from behind the dark summits.
Each step of my unshod horse resounded hollowly
in the silence of the gorges. I watered the horse
at the waterfall, and then, after greedily inhaling
once or twice the fresh air of the southern night,
I set off on my way back. I rode through the
village. The lights in the windows were begin-
ning to go out; the sentries on the fortress-
rampart and the Cossacks in the surrounding
pickets were calling out in drawling tones to one
another.
In one of the village houses, built at the edge
of a ravine, I noticed an extraordinary illumina-
tion. At times, discordant murmurs and shouting
could be heard, proving that a military carouse
was in full swing. I dismounted and crept up to
the window. The shutter had not been made
fast, and I could see the banqueters and catch
what they were saying. They were talking about
me.
The captain of dragoons, flushed with wine,
struck the table with his fist, demanding attention.
"Gentlemen!" he said, "this won't do!
Pechorin must be taught a lesson! These Peters-
burg fledglings always carry their heads high until
they get a slap in the face! He thinks that be-
cause he always wears clean gloves and polished
boots he is the only one who has ever lived in
society. And what a haughty smile! All the
same, I am convinced that he is a coward -- yes, a
coward!"
"I think so too," said Grushnitski. "He is
fond of getting himself out of trouble by pre-
tending to be only having a joke. I once gave him
such a talking to that anyone else in his place
would have cut me to pieces on the spot. But
Pechorin turned it all to the ridiculous side. I,
of course, did not call him out because that was
his business, but he did not care to have anything
more to do with it."
"Grushnitski is angry with him for having
captured Princess Mary from him," somebody
said.
- convince [kən´vins]
vt.使确信；使认识错误 (初中英语单词) - coldly [´kəuldli] ad.冷淡地 (初中英语单词)
- sunset [´sʌnset] n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词)
- princess [,prin´ses] n.公主；王妃；亲王夫人 (初中英语单词)
- yesterday [´jestədi] n.&ad.昨天；前不久 (初中英语单词)
- well-known [,wel´nəun] a.著名的，众所周知的 (初中英语单词)
- embrace [im´breis] vt.&n.拥抱；采纳；信奉 (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- despise [di´spaiz] vt.轻视，藐视 (初中英语单词)
- excite [ik´sait] vt.激动；引起，招惹 (初中英语单词)
- abandon [ə´bændən] vt.抛弃，放弃，离弃 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- gallop [´gæləp] n.&v.奔驰；急速行进 (初中英语单词)
- greedily [´gri:dili] ad.贪婪地 (初中英语单词)
- extraordinary [ik´strɔ:dinəri] a.非常的；额外的 (初中英语单词)
- coward [´kauəd] n.胆怯者 a.胆小的 (初中英语单词)
- fertile [´fə:tail] a.肥沃的；有繁殖力的 (高中英语单词)
- cavity [´kæviti] n.洞，窝；(人体)腔 (高中英语单词)
- bridle [´braidl] n.(马)笼头；束缚 (高中英语单词)
- determination [di,tə:mi´neiʃən] n.决心；决定 (高中英语单词)
- overtake [,əuvə´teik] vt.追上；赶上 (高中英语单词)
- continually [kən´tinjuəli] ad.不断地，频繁地 (高中英语单词)
- strive [straiv] vi.争取；努力；奋斗 (高中英语单词)
- waterfall [´wɔ:təfɔ:l] n.瀑布 (高中英语单词)
- shutter [´ʃʌtə] n.百叶窗；(相机)快门 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- haughty [´hɔ:ti] a.傲慢的，高傲的 (高中英语单词)
- ridiculous [ri´dikjuləs] a.荒谬的；可笑的 (高中英语单词)
- unreasonable [ʌn´ri:zənəbl] a.不合理的；荒唐的 (英语四级单词)
- ridicule [´ridikju:l] vi.&n.嘲笑；奚落 (英语四级单词)
- flaming [´fleimiŋ] a.熊熊燃烧的；热情的 (英语四级单词)
- impatience [im´peiʃəns] n.不耐烦，急躁 (英语四级单词)
- ravine [rə´vi:n] n.沟壑；深谷 (英语四级单词)
- demolish [di´mɔliʃ] vt.摧毁；拆除(旧房等) (英语六级单词)
- vexation [vek´seiʃən] n.烦恼(的原因) (英语六级单词)
- myrtle [´mə:tl] n.桃金娘科 (英语六级单词)
- involuntarily [in´vɔləntərili] ad.不 自觉地 (英语六级单词)
- inwardly [´inwədli] ad.内向；独自地 (英语六级单词)
- dispel [di´spel] vt.驱逐；驱散(乌云) (英语六级单词)
- coolness [´ku:lnis] n.凉，凉爽；冷静 (英语六级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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