Chapter 3 literature teacher

literature teacher one There was a clatter of horseshoes on the wooden floor, and from the stable they first brought out the black horse Count Nurin, then the big white horse, and then his sister Maika. They are all expensive horses.Old man Sherestov saddled the big horse and said to his daughter Masha: "Come on, Maria Godevrua, get on! Phew!" Masha Serestova was the youngest of the family. She was already eighteen years old, but her family couldn't get rid of the old habit and treated her like a child, so everyone still called her Manya. ② and Manuxia ③.Since a circus came to town and she went to the circus enthusiastically, people began to call her Maria Godeflua again.

"Drive!" She yelled as she rode on the back of the big horse. Her sister Varya rode Mayka, Nikitin rode Count Nurin, and the officers mounted their own horses, a long and handsome cavalry, flashing the officers' white jackets and the ladies' black riding dresses , colorful, slowly out of the yard. Nikitin noticed that, for some reason, Manusia was paying attention to him alone when they mounted their horses, and later when they rode out into the street.She looked at him and Count Nulin worriedly, and said: "You have to keep the bit in check all the time, Sergey Vasilich. Don't let him flinch. It's just a feint."

Either it was because her big horse was very friendly with Count Nulin, or maybe it was just a coincidence. In short, she rode beside Nikitin all the time, just like yesterday and the day before yesterday.As for him, he looked at her slender and petite figure on the proud white horse, at her beautiful profile, at the top hat that did not match her at all and made her look old, and he felt a deep feeling in his heart. Joyful, gentle, and obsessed, although I was listening to her, I didn't hear what she was saying clearly, but I was thinking to myself: "I swear by my personality, I swear in front of God: I will no longer be shy, and today I will not be ashamed. She made it clear..." At that time, it was past six o'clock in the evening, and the aroma of acacia and clove was very strong, and the air and the trees themselves seemed to be cooled by the strong fragrance.The band in the city park is already playing.Horses clattered their hooves on the street, and laughter, conversation, and doors slammed from all directions.Soldiers encountered on the road saluted the officers, schoolboys bowed to Nikitin, and all who had taken a leisurely walk or hurried to the park to listen to the music, were evidently pleased to see this company.How warm it is!The east and west white clouds scattered in the sky, how soft they look!The shadows of poplars and black locusts stretched across the wide street, covering the balconies and second floors of the houses across the street, how gentle and comfortable they looked!

They went out of the city and rode their horses at a gallop on the highway.There was no more scent of acacia and cloves, no music, but the fields were sweet, and the young rye and wheat were green, and the chipmunks squeaked and the rooks croaked.Everywhere you looked, it was green everywhere, except here and there a few melon patches, black in color, and in the far left, in the cemetery, there was a white apple blossom that was withering. They walked past a slaughterhouse, then a beer brewery, and chased a group of marching band members who were heading to a suburban park to play. "Polyansky has a good horse, I don't deny that," Manyusha said to Nikitin, looking up at the officer riding alongside Varya. "But that horse has his faults. There's a white spot on his left leg that's out of place, and look, his head keeps throwing back. Now there's nothing you can do to keep him from leaning back. He's going to keep it." And so on until the day I die."

Manusia was as obsessed with horses as her father was.She always felt bad when she saw good horses in other people, and she was happy when she saw faults in other people's horses.Nikitin didn't understand horses at all. It didn't make any difference to him whether he reined in the horse, reined in the bit, ran fast or jogged.He only felt that his riding posture was unnatural and awkward, so those officers who were good at riding horses must be more attractive to Manusia than him.So he got jealous because she liked those officers. They passed by a park in the suburbs, and someone suggested that everyone go in and drink some mineral water.They went in.There are only oak trees in this park, and those oak trees have only recently put out their leaves; so now, looking through the new leaves, you can see the whole park and its stage, small tables, and swings.All the crow's nests were visible too, and looked like big hats.The gentlemen on horseback and the ladies accompanying them dismounted at a small table and asked for mineral water.Some people they knew had been walking in the park and came up to them.Among them were the medical officer in high boots, and the conductor of the band waiting for the musicians.The doctor probably thought Nikitin was a college student, because he asked: "Excuse me, are you back for summer vacation?"

"No, I've always lived here," Nikitin replied. "I'm a middle school teacher." "Really?" The doctor wondered. "You are already a teacher at such a young age?" "How can you be young? I'm twenty-six! . . . Thank God!" "You have a beard and mustache, but from your appearance you cannot be more than twenty-two years old. How young you look!" "Bastard talk!" thought Nikitin. "Even this person treats me like a baby!" He was always very unhappy when people said he was young, especially in front of women or students.Ever since he came to work in this city, he had hated his own looking too young.Students were not afraid of him, old men called him young man, women were happy to dance with him, but not happy to listen to his tirade.He is willing to pay a high price, just to be ten years older immediately.

After leaving the park, they went on to Sherestov's estate.They reined in the horses outside the manor, and called Praskovya, the steward's wife, to bring some fresh milk.The milk was brought, but no one drank it. Everyone looked at each other, laughed, and started the horse, and ran back.By the time they rode back, the band was already playing in the suburban park, the sun was hiding behind the cemetery, and half the sky was crimson with the evening glow. Manyusha rode and walked side by side with Nikitin.He would have liked to tell her how passionately he loved her, but he was afraid that the officers and Varya would hear it, so he kept silent.Manusia was also silent.He realized why she was silent, why she rode beside him, and he was secretly happy, and the earth, the sky, the lights of the city, the dark silhouette of the brewery, in short, everything became one in his eyes. It seemed to him that his Count Nurin was walking on air, trying to leap into the crimson sky.

They got home.The samovar was already boiling on the table in the garden, and old Sherestov was sitting at the table talking with his friends, the officials of the district court, criticizing something as usual. "It's vulgarity!" he said. "Vulgarity, nothing else. Yes, sir! Vulgarity, sir!" Ever since Nikitin fell in love with Manyusha, everything in the Sherestovs' house was to his liking: the house, the garden next to the house, evening tea, wicker chairs, the old nurse, and even the old man's favorite Two words: "vulgar".The only things he didn't like were the multitude of cats and dogs, and the Egyptian pigeons whining mournfully in a big cage on the terrace.There were so many house dogs and watchdogs. He had been with the Sherestovs for so long, but he only recognized two of them: Mujika and Som.Mujica is a shaved puppy with a hairy face, vicious and spoiled.It hated Nikitin, and every time it saw him, it would tilt its head, bared its teeth, and shouted: "Woo... woof... woof..." Then it lay down under the chair.Whenever he tried to get him off under his chair, he would bark high-pitched, and his masters would say, "Don't be afraid, he doesn't bite. He's a good dog."

Suo Mu was a tall black dog with long legs and a tail as hard as a stick.Whenever people eat or drink tea, it always walks silently under the table, wagging its tail and patting people's boots and table legs.He was a faithful and stupid dog, but Nikitin could not stand him, because he had a habit of putting his head on the knees of those who were eating, and soiling everyone's trousers with his spittle.Nikitin hit it on the large forehead with the handle of a knife more than once, flicked its nose with his fingers, scolded and complained about it, but no matter what he did, he still couldn't help getting his trousers stained.

Tea, jam, rusks, and butter all looked delicious after a ride on horseback.They drank their first cup of tea in silence and with great relish, but by the second they quarreled.At every tea and lunch Varya always led the quarrel.She was twenty-three years old, handsome, better looking than Manusia, and had always been considered the most intelligent and educated member of the family. Her manners were dignified and dignified, with the air of any eldest daughter who takes the place of a late mother in the family.As the mistress of the house, she felt that she had the right to walk around in the presence of the guests in her home jacket, and to call the officers by their surnames, to treat Manusia as a little girl, and to talk to her in the tone of a trainer. She talks.She always called herself a spinster, which meant that she believed she could marry.

Every conversation, even when it was about the weather, she made sure to lead it into a quarrel.She has a hobby of catching other people's speech flaws, exposing their contradictions, and finding faults in their words.As soon as you were talking to her about something, she looked you in the face, and suddenly interrupted you: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Petrov, but what you said the day before yesterday was just the opposite!" Or else she would smile ironically and say: "But I see you are advocating the principles of the Third Hall. Then I congratulate you." If you make a wisecrack, or a pun, you can hear her voice right away: "That's a cliché!" Xiang, said: "Qiu Ba's wisecrack!" She pronounced the word "Qiu" so hard that Mujica would always answer her from under the chair: "Woo... woof woof..." This time when we were drinking tea, the quarrel started with Nikitin talking about school. Exam starts. "I'm sorry, Sergey Vasilich," Varya interrupted him. "You say that students find the exams difficult. Let me ask you, whose fault is it? For example, you asked the students in the eighth grade to do an essay on 'Pushkin as a Psychologist'. First, no It should be such a difficult question. Second, how can Pushkin be a psychologist? Yes, it is different when it comes to Shchedrin, or, for example, Dostoevsky, but Pushkin is a great poet , nothing else." "Schedrin is one thing, Pushkin is another," Nikitin replied sullenly. "I know that your middle school teachers don't think highly of Shchedrin, but that's not the point. Please tell me, in what respect is Pushkin a psychologist?" "Do you mean he's not a psychologist? Well, I'll give you some examples." Nikitin just read a few paragraphs of "Onegin" ⑤, and then a few paragraphs of "Boris Godunov" ⑥. "I don't see any psychology in it at all," Varya sighed. "A psychologist is the kind of person who describes the subtle changes of the human soul. Those you read are beautiful poems and nothing else." "I know what psychology you want!" Nikitin said, annoyed. "You want someone to take a blunt saw off my finger, and me, yelling, that's what you call psychology." "Spoof! But you still haven't proved to me why Pushkin is a psychologist." Whenever Nikitin had to quarrel because he objected to what he thought was narrow, trite or similar views, he would jump up from his seat as usual, put his head in his hands, grunting, and ran across the room to that end.It was the same now: he jumped up, put his head in his hands, whimpered, circled the table, and sat down a little further away. The officers came to back him up.Captain Polyansky assured Varya that Pushkin was indeed a psychologist, and to prove it he quoted two lines from Lermontov.Lieutenant Gernet said that if Pushkin had not been a psychologist, people would not have erected a monument to him in Moscow. "It's vulgarity!" came the words from across the table. "That's what I said to the Governor: 'This is vulgarity, my lord! '""I don't argue anymore! cried Nikitin, "there will be no end to this quarrel!" enough!Cough, get the hell out of here, you dirty dog! ' he yelled to Som who had put his head and paws on his knees. "Woo... woof woof..." came the sound of a dog barking from under the chair. "Admit that you were wrong!" Varya cried. "Admit it!" But at this time, a few ladies who were guests came, and the quarrel naturally stopped.Everyone walked into the hall together.Varya sat down at the piano and began to play dance music.First they danced the waltz, then the polka, then the quadrille and the grand-rond⑦, and Captain Polansky led them through the rooms, and then the waltz again. During the dance, the old people sat in the hall and smoked, watching the young men and women dance.One of the old men was Shebarzin, manager of the Municipal Credit Union, who was famous for his literary and dramatic arts.He founded a local musical theater group, participated in the performances himself, and for some reason only acted as a funny page, or recited "The Sinner" in a singing voice.He was nicknamed the Mummy in this town, because he was tall and thin, with prominent veins, and he always had a solemn face and dull eyes.He was so sincerely fond of the dramatic arts that he even shaved off his mustache and beard, which made him look more like a mummy. When the big ring dance broke up, he hesitated, walked up to Nikitin with a slightly sideways body, coughed, and said, "I was honored to hear all of your debate over tea just now. I totally agree with your opinion.The same is my opinion, and it will be a great pleasure for me to talk to you.Have you read the book "Hamburg Opera Review" by Lessing⑩? " "No, I haven't seen it." Shebarzin was taken aback, waved his hands as if his fingers had been burned, and walked away from Nikitin without saying a word.Nikitin found Shebarzin's figure, his question, and his astonishment amused, but he still thought to himself: "It's embarrassing. I'm a teacher of literature, but to this day I haven't read Lessing. I'll have to read him." "Notes" ①②③are Maria’s nicknames. ④The "Third Office" is the highest police agency in Tsarist Russia, established in 1826, with the purpose of suppressing revolutionary activities. ⑤Pushkin's novel "Evgeny Onegin". ⑥Pushkin's historical poetic drama. ⑦French: An ancient group dance pattern. ⑧ "The Sinner" is a poem written by the Russian writer A. K. Tolstoy (1817-1875). ⑨The ancient Egyptians preserved the human body with preservatives. 10 Lessing (1729-1781), German literary theorist and playwright. Before dinner, the group, young and old, sat down to play "Fate".They take two decks of cards, one is distributed to everyone, each gets as many cards, and the other is spread out on the table with the back facing up. "Whoever has this card," said old Sherestov solemnly, opening the top card of the second deck, "fate will send him to the nursery immediately to kiss the nurse. " The honor of kissing the nurse fell to Shebarzin.They surrounded him, led him into the nursery, clapped and laughed, and forced him to kiss the nurse. This caused a great clamor and uproar. ... "Not enthusiastic enough!" cried Sherestov, laughing to the point of tears. "Not enthusiastic enough!" Fate ordered Nikitin to hear the confessions of all.He was sitting on a chair in the middle of the hall.Someone brought a shawl and covered his head.The first to confess to him was Varya. "I know your sin," Nikitin began, seeing her stern profile in the dark. "Tell me, madam, why do you go out for a walk with Poyansky every day? Well, she never goes with the hussars for nothing!" "It's a parody," said Varya, and went away. Then, inside the shawl, he saw two large, fixed eyes gleaming, and in the dark, he saw a lovely profile, and he smelled the familiar scent of expensive perfume, which made Ni Keating thought of Manusia's room. "Maria Godefrua," he said, his own voice almost unrecognizable, it became so soft and tender, "what is your crime?" Manusia narrowed her eyes, stuck her tongue out at him, then laughed and walked away.After a minute, she stood in the middle of the hall, clapped her hands and shouted, "Dinner, dinner, dinner!" Everyone rushed into the dining room together. At dinner Varya quarreled again, this time with her father. Polyansky ate a lot, drank red wine, and told Nikitin how he stood all night in a swamp with mud up to his knees one winter during the war; No smoking or talking was allowed, and the night was cold and dark, with a bitter wind blowing.Nikitin listened, squinting at Manusia.And she was staring at him motionless, with no eyes? ~, as if thinking about something on his mind, or thinking out of his mind. . . . it made him feel both pleasure and pain. "Why is she looking at me like that?" The question tormented him. "It's embarrassing. People will see it. Ah, how young she is, and how innocent she is!" At midnight, the guests dispersed.Nikitin had just stepped out of the door when a small upstairs window slammed open, and Manusia poked her head out. "Sergei Vasilich!" she called out. "Is there a problem?" "That's what happened..." Manusia said, clearly wanting to say something. "That's how it is. . . . Polyansky promised to come in a day or two with his camera and take pictures of us all. We'll have to meet here." "Ok." Manusia disappeared, the windows slammed shut, and immediately the piano was played in the house. "Hey, this family!" thought Nikitin, crossing the street. "No one in this family moans, except the Egyptian pigeons, and even those do because they can't express their joy in any other way!" However, the Sherestovs were not alone in enjoying themselves.Nikitin had not gone two hundred paces when he heard the sound of a piano in another house.He went a little further, and saw another farmer playing the sanxian at the door.In the park, the orchestra suddenly played an ensemble of Russian songs. . . . Nikitin lived half a mile from the Sherestovs. It was an apartment with eight rooms. He rented it for three hundred rubles a year. lived with Te Ipolyditch.That Ippolyte Ippolidich was not yet an old man, with a snub nose and a reddish-brown beard, a somewhat rough and uncouth look, like a craftsman, but good-natured.Nikitin came home and was sitting at the table in his room correcting the maps drawn by the students.He thought that the most important and indispensable thing in the study of geography was to draw maps; in the study of history, it was to get acquainted with the chronology, and he used to sit there all night with blue pencils correcting the maps or maps drawn by his male and female students. chronology. "How nice the weather is today!" Nikitin said as he walked into the history and geography teacher's room. "You are so strange, how can you sit in your room and not go out?" Ippolit Ipolyditch was a quiet man, either he said nothing, or he only talked about things that everyone already knew.Now he replied: "Yes, the weather is very nice. It is May, and soon the real summer will come. Summer is different from winter. In winter, you have to light a stove, but in summer you can be warm without a stove. In summer, it is better to open the windows at night." It’s hot, and even with double-glazed windows in winter, it’s still cold.” Nikitin felt bored after sitting at the table for less than a minute. "Good night!" he said, standing up and yawning. "I was going to tell you something about love that concerns me, but you only know geography! When you are told about love, you immediately ask: "What year was the Battle of Kalka?" 'You and your great battles, the Chukchi Cape, to hell with all! " "Why are you angry?" "It's so annoying!" Annoyed at the thought that he had not confessed his love to Manusia, and that he could not find anyone with whom to talk about his love, he went into his study and lay down on a sofa.The study was dark and silent.Nikitin lay there, staring into the darkness, and for some reason began to imagine how Manushya would see him off at the station when he was going to Petersburg two or three years later on an errand, weeping; After Petersburg, how he received a long letter from her begging him to come home quickly; how he wrote to her... His letter began like this: "My dear little mouse! . . . " "Well, just my dear little mouse," he said, laughing. He felt uncomfortable lying down, so he put his arms under his head and raised his left leg to rest on the back of the couch.He feels better.At this moment, the window began to turn pale obviously, sleepy? The rooster crowed loudly in the yard.Nikitin went on thinking about how he would come back from Petersburg, how Manushia would meet him at the station, and with a scream of joy, throw her arms around his neck, or, better still, how he would use a trick: sneak back to the station in the middle of the night. At home, the cook opened the door for him, and he went into the bedroom on tiptoe, without a sound, took off his clothes, and jumped onto the bed!She woke up, so happy! It was broad daylight.The windows and study were gone.On the porch steps of the brewery they rode past yesterday sat Manusia, murmuring something. Then she took Nikitin's arm and walked with him into the suburban park.There he saw oak trees and crows' nests like hats.A nest shook, and Shebarzin poked his head out of it and shouted, "You haven't read Lessing's book!" Nikitin shivered all over and opened his eyes.Ippolit Ipolyditch was standing in front of the sofa, with his head thrown back, and was putting on his tie. "Get up, it's time to go to work," he said, "you shouldn't sleep with your clothes on. You'll ruin them. You should go to bed undressed. . . . " He began to speak at length and intonation, as usual. Something everyone already knew. Nikitin's first class was Russian in second grade.At exactly nine o'clock, he walked into the classroom, but saw two large characters written in chalk on the blackboard: Ma Xie.This probably refers to Masha Sherestova. "They've heard it, these rascals . . . " thought Nikitin. "Where did they find out about it?" The second literature class is in fifth grade.The word Ma Sia was also written on the blackboard. When he walked out of the classroom after class, he heard shouts behind him, as if they were cheers from the top floor of the theater: "Ula! Sherestova!" After sleeping with his clothes on, his head was uncomfortable and his body was weak.Those students are looking forward to the suspension before the exam every day, do nothing, feel restless, and start messing around out of boredom.Nikitin was also bored, ignored their nonsense, and went to the window from time to time.He saw that the street was brightly lit by the sun.Above the houses is a transparent blue sky and birds, and far behind the green parks and many houses is the vast distance, the groves shrouded in blue mist, and the smoke from the speeding train. ...At this moment, two officers in white jackets were walking past in the street under the shade of acacia trees, playing with their whips.Then a group of Jews, with white beards and caps, passed by in an open carriage.A governess was out for a walk with the headmaster's granddaughter. ... Suo Mu and the other two dogs went somewhere. ... Then Varya, in a plain gray dress and red socks, walked by with the Bulletin of Europe in her hand.She must have been to the city library. ... It's still very early for school to end, it's going to be three o'clock in the afternoon!He could not go home after class, nor could he go to the Sherestov's, but he had to teach at the Wolf's.This Wolf was a wealthy Jew, a Protestant Lutheran, and instead of sending his children to secondary school, he had a secondary school teacher come to teach them at home, paying five rubles for each class. ... "It's boring, boring, boring!" he thought to himself. At three o'clock he went to Wolfe's and sat there feeling as if the hours were endless.He left there at five o'clock, but at six o'clock he had to go back to the middle school for a board meeting to draw up a timetable for oral exams in the fourth and sixth grades! He left the high school for the Sherestovs' house until very late in the evening, his heart beating and his face flushing.A month ago, even a week ago, whenever he made up his mind to woo her, he would have prepared a whole series of words, with a prologue and a concluding remark; but now, he hadn't prepared a single word, his brain He was in a mess, all he knew was that he had to make it clear today, and it would be absolutely impossible to delay it any longer. "I'm going to invite her to the garden," he thought, "let's walk around for a while, and then we'll make it clear. . . . " There was no one in the hall.He went into the hall and then into the living room. ...and there was no one there either.He heard Varya arguing upstairs and the sound of a hired seamstress cutting clothes in the nursery. There is a small room in this house that has three names at the same time: the small room, the passing room, and the dark room.There was a big old chest of drawers in it, which contained medicines, ammunition, and hunting gear.There was a narrow wooden staircase leading upstairs from this room, on which the cats often slept.There were two doors in this room, one leading to the nursery and the other to the drawing room.Nikitin entered the room and was about to go upstairs when the nursery door opened and closed with a bang, causing the stairs and the cupboard to vibrate. Manusia, dressed in black, came running into the room, holding a length of blue material in her hand. She didn't see Nikitin, but ran straight to the stairs. "Wait a minute..." Nikitin said, stopping her. "Hello, Godefrua. . . . Allow me . . . " He was out of breath, not knowing what to say.He took her hand with one hand and grabbed the blue material with the other.As for her, she didn't know whether it was fear or surprise, and she looked at him with wide eyes. "Let me..." Nikitin went on, afraid that she would go away. "I want to talk to you about one thing. . . . it's just... it's not convenient here. I can't, I can't... Godefrua, you understand, I can't, . . . that's how it is..." Blue The colored cloth fell to the floor, and Nikitin took Manusia's other hand.She turned pale, moved her lips, and then backed away from Nikitin, back and forth, and found herself caught in the corner between the wall and the cabinet. "By virtue of my character, I assure you..." he said softly. "Manusia, according to my personality..." She raised her head, and he kissed her lips. In order to kiss her longer, he cupped her face with his fingers.Then, somehow, he found himself in the corner between the wall and the cupboard, and she put her arms around his neck and pressed her head against his chin. Then they both ran into the garden. The Sherestovs had a large garden covering four dessiatins of land, with about twenty old maple and linden trees, a spruce tree, and fruit trees: cherry, apple, pear. Trees, wild chestnuts, silvery olives. ... There are also many flowers. Nikitin and Manyusha did not say a word, but ran along the avenue, laughing, asking each other incoherent words from time to time, and neither of them answered.Over the garden, a crescent moon shone, and in the faint light of the moon, sleepy tulips and iris rose from the dark green grass, as if begging people to fall in love with them too. When Nikitin and Manusia returned to the main room, the officers and ladies had arrived and were dancing the mazurka.Polyansky led the crowd in a big ring dance, walked around the rooms, and after the dance everyone played "fate".Before dinner, when the guests had passed from the hall into the dining room and Manusia was left alone with Nikitin, Manusia clung to him and said, "Go and talk to Papa and Varya yourself. Right. I'm shy..." After dinner, he went to talk to the old man.After listening to him, Sherestov thought for a while and said: "I am very grateful that you think highly of me and my daughter, but let me talk to you like a friend. I am not talking to you as a parent. Talk, but talk to you as a gentleman talks to a gentleman. Tell me, please, why did you marry so early? Only peasants marry at such a young age. Of course, it is out of vulgarity, but why are you? You What fun is there in putting yourself in shackles at such a young age?" "I'm not young at all!" Nikitin said angrily. "I'm almost twenty-seven." "Daddy, the veterinarian is here!" Varya called from the next room. The conversation was cut off.Varya, Manusya, and Polyansky send Nikitin home.When they came to his door, Varya said: "Why doesn't your mysterious Pilipla Pilapraki never show up? Let him come and play with us." When Nikitin entered the room of the mysterious Ippolit Ippoliditch, he was sitting on his bed and taking off his trousers. "Don't lie down and sleep, dear!" Nikitin gasped to him. "Wait a minute, don't lie down and sleep!" Ippolit Ipolyditch hurriedly put on his trousers, and asked in alarm: "What's the matter?" "I'm getting married!" Nikitin sat down beside his colleague, looked at him with astonishment, and said, as if wondering himself, "Just think about it, I'm getting married! To Masha Sherestova!" I am proposing today. " "Oh? She seems like a nice girl. Only she's very young." "Yeah, she's young!" Nikitin sighed, shrugging his shoulders worriedly. "Very young, very young!" "She was in the middle school I taught. I know her. She's good at geography, but not history. She doesn't pay attention in class." For some reason, Nikitin suddenly felt sorry for his colleague and wanted to say something tender and consoling to him. "My friend, why don't you marry?" he asked. "Ippolyte Ipolyditch, for example, why didn't you marry Varya? She's a lovely, very nice girl! Likes to quarrel, but her heart... what kind of heart is that! She asked about you just now. Marry her, my friend! Huh?" He knew that Varya would not marry such a dull, upturned nose, but he still persuaded him to marry her.Why is this? "Marriage is a lifelong event," said Ippolit Ippolidich, thinking about it, "everything must be done carefully, carefully, and never hastily. It never hurts to be cautious, especially when it comes to marriage, because when you get married, you are no longer a bachelor and start a new life. " He began again to speak the words that everyone already knew.Nikitin couldn't take it anymore, said good night, and went back to his room.He undressed quickly and went to bed quickly, in order to start thinking about his own happiness, thinking about Manusia, thinking about the future, smiling slightly, and suddenly remembered that he had not read Lessing. "I'll have to read his books before..." he thought. "Actually, why should I read it? To hell with it!" Tired with his happiness, he fell asleep right away, with a smile on his face until early next morning. In his dream he heard the clattering of horses' hoofs on the wooden floor, and dreamed that first the black horse Count Noulin was brought out of the stable, then the great white horse, and finally his sister Maika. ... "Notes" ① A play name. ② In 1223, Russia fought a war with the Mongol-Tatar army on the banks of the Kalka River (in the Donetsk region), and the latter won. ③In Siberia. ④ Lutheran Protestantism is one of the main sects of Protestant Christianity. It is based on the religious thought of the religious reformer Martin Luther, emphasizing that people are justified before God only by believing in Jesus, not by performing church etiquette, Rules and good deeds. two “教堂里很拥挤，很嘈杂，有一回甚至有个人叫喊起来，给玛纽霞和我主持结婚仪式的大司祭，隔着眼镜瞧一眼人群，厉声说道：”'不准在教堂里走来走去，不准嚷，安安静静站在那儿祷告。应该敬畏上帝才是。'“我的男傧相是我的两个同事，玛尼雅的男傧相是波梁斯基上尉和盖尔涅特中尉。主教的唱诗班唱得好极了。烛花的爆裂声啦，灿烂的光辉啦，华丽的服装啦，军官啦，无数快活满意的脸啦，玛尼雅那种特别娇弱的神情啦，总之，整个环境和婚礼的祷告词，感动得我流下泪来，使我满心喜悦。我想：近来我的生活开放了多么茂盛的花，变得多么美丽而富有诗意！两年以前，我还是个大学生，住在涅格林诺一间便宜的带家具出租的房间里，没有钱，没有亲属，而且，当时我还觉得自己没有什么前途。现在呢，我是一个顶好的省城里的中学教师，收入牢靠，有人爱，万事如意。我心想：都是为了我，这群人才聚在这儿，都是为了我，那三个枝形烛架才点亮，大辅祭才高声喊叫，唱诗班才努力唱好。不久我就可以叫一声妻子的那个年轻人儿这么年轻，这么优雅，这么高兴，那也是为了我。我想起我们最初的相逢，想起我们城外的旅行，想起我的求爱，想起整个夏天，仿佛上天故意安排好了似的，天气出奇地好。当初住在涅格林诺的时候，我觉得只有在长篇和中篇小说里才可能有的那种幸福，现在我却实际体验到，仿佛已经把它抓在手心里了。 “行完婚礼，大家乱嘈嘈地围着我和玛尼雅，表达他们真诚的快乐，向我们道喜，祝我们幸福。有一位准将是将近七十岁的老头儿，只向玛纽霞一个人道喜，用干嗄的老人的嗓音对她说话，声音却响得整个教堂都听得见：”'亲爱的，我希望您婚后仍旧是这样的一朵美丽的鲜花。'“军官们、校长、所有的教师，都出于礼貌微微地笑。我也觉得我自己脸上有一种愉快的、虚假的笑容。史地教师，最亲爱的伊波里特·伊波里狄奇，总是讲些人人早已知道的事，这时候使劲握住我的手，亲切地说：”'这以前您没结婚，一直单身过活，现在您结了婚，要两个人一块儿生活了。'“我们从教堂里出来，就坐车到一座两层楼的没抹灰泥的房子去，那是嫁妆的一部分，现在由我接收下来了。除了这所房子以外，玛尼雅还带给我大约两万卢布和一片叫做美里托诺甫斯卡亚的荒地，那儿有一所给看守人住的小房子，据说还有很多鸡、鸭，没人照管，变成野鸡、野鸭了。我从教堂来到这儿，就走进我的新书房，伸个懒腰，在一张土耳其式的长沙发上躺下来，伸开四肢，抽烟，我觉得软和，舒服，安逸，这是我生平从没感到过的。这当儿客人们正在欢呼'乌啦'，前厅有个不高明的乐队在吹奏庆祝的乐曲和种种乱七八糟的曲子。玛尼雅的姐姐瓦丽雅跑进书房来，手里拿着一只高脚玻璃杯，脸上现出一种古怪的紧张神情，仿佛嘴里含满了水似的，她分明还想再往前走，可是忽然又哭又笑起来，酒杯当的一声掉在地板上。我们搀扶着她，领她走了。 “'谁也弄不懂！'后来她躺在后屋老奶妈的床上，含含糊糊地说。'弄不懂，弄不懂！我的上帝啊，谁也弄不懂！'”可是人人都十分明白；她比她妹妹玛尼雅大四岁，却还没结婚，她哭，倒不是出于忌妒，却是因为她忧伤地意识到她的年华正在消逝，甚至也许已经消逝了。人们跳卡德里尔舞的时候，她带着沾着泪痕、厚厚地搽了一层粉的脸回到大厅里来。我看见波梁斯基上尉端着一碟冰淇淋站在她面前，而她拿小勺舀着吃。……“这时候已经是清早五点多钟了。我拿起我的日记本来描写我的圆满而多彩的幸福，想要写出足足六页来，明天好念给玛尼雅听，可是说来奇怪，我的脑子里乱七八糟，迷迷糊糊，象在做梦一样，我只生动地想起瓦丽雅那段插曲，想写一句：”可怜的瓦丽雅！'我简直能够照这样一直坐下去，写：“可怜的瓦丽雅！'可是这当儿，树叶沙沙地响起来，天要下雨了。乌鸦呱呱地叫，我的玛尼雅刚刚睡着，不知为什么，她的脸色忧愁。” 后来，有很长一阵子尼基丁没写日记。八月初，他开始忙补考和招生考试，过了圣母升天节，学校开学了。照例早上八点多钟他动身上学校去，到九点多钟就已经惦记玛尼雅和他的新家，不时地看表。上低年级课的时候，他叫一个学生起来念书，让别的学生听写，在孩子们听写的时候，他自己坐在窗台上，闭着眼睛遐想，不管瞻望将来也好，回想过去也好，在他都是同样美妙，跟神话一样。上高年级课的时候，他叫学生大声读果戈理或者普希金的散文，这使得他犯困。人啦，树啦，田野啦，乘骑的马啦，在他的幻想里升起来，他就叹口气，仿佛让作者迷住似的，说：“多么好呀！” 在课间较长的休息时间里，玛尼雅打发人给他送来点心，上面盖着雪白的小餐巾，他就慢慢地吃着，吃吃停停，好拉长享受的时间。伊波里特·伊波里狄奇的点心照例只有白面包，他尊敬而羡慕地瞧着他，说些人人熟悉的事情，例如：“人不吃东西就不能生存。” 放学以后，尼基丁先去教家馆。最后他五点多钟回家去，觉得又快活又不安，仿佛出去了整整一年似的。他上气不接下气地跑上楼去，找到玛纽霞，搂住她，吻她，发誓说他爱她，没有她就活不下去，又着重说他十分惦记她，还提心吊胆地问她身体可好，为什么神情那么不快活。然后他们俩吃午饭。饭后他在书房里的长沙发上躺下来，抽烟，她坐在他身旁，低声讲话。 现在他顶幸福的日子是星期日和假日，每到那种日子他就从早到晚在家里待着。在那种日子他过着纯朴的、然而非常愉快的生活，它使他联想到安闲的田园生活。他一刻也不停地观察他那聪明、能干的玛尼雅怎样布置她的窝儿。他自己也想表示自己在家里不是多余的人，就做些白费力气的事情，比方说，从车棚里推出双轮马车来，绕着它走一圈，看一遍。玛纽霞用三头奶牛办了一个地道的牛奶场，在她那些大小地窖里收藏着许多壶牛奶和无数罐酸奶油，全是留看做黄油用的。有时候尼基丁想开玩笑，就问她要一杯牛奶喝；她吓慌了，因为这搅乱了她定下的规矩。于是他笑着搂住她，说：“算了，算了，我是闹着玩的，我的宝贝儿！我是闹着玩的！” 要不然，他就取笑她小家子气，她在食柜里找到一小块变了味的、跟石头那么硬的腊肠或者干酪，一本正经地说：“让厨房里的用人拿去吃吧。” 他对她说，这么一小块东西只能放到捕鼠器上去，她就开始激昂地证明说，男人根本不懂家务事，哪怕你送三普特美味到厨房去，也不会叫仆人感到惊讶的。他就同意她的话，欢欢喜喜地搂抱她。凡是她所说的公道话，他总觉得不平凡，惊人，至于她所说的跟他的见解抵触的话，他也觉得天真而动人。 有时候他有心谈谈人生的哲理，就议论起抽象的问题来。 她听着，好奇地瞧着他的脸。 “我跟你在一块儿，真是无限幸福，我亲爱的，”他说，抚摸着她的手指头，或者把她的辫子拆散，再编好。“不过我不认为我这种幸福是偶然落到我身上来的，好象从天上掉下来似的。这幸福是一种十分自然的、合情合理的、势所必然的现象。我相信人是自己的幸福的创造者，现在我得到的正是我自己创造的东西。是啊，我要不假装谦虚地说：这幸福是我自己创造的，我有权享受这幸福。你知道我的过去。孤苦贫困和不幸的童年、惨淡的青春，——这一切都是奋斗，这就是我开辟的、达到幸福的道路。……”十月间，中学校遭到重大的损失，伊波里特·伊波里狄奇脑袋上生了丹毒，去世了。他临死的前两天，已经神志不清，说胡话了；不过哪怕是说胡话，他也只说些人人都知道的事情。 “伏尔加河流进里海。……马吃燕麦和草料。……”他出殡那天，学校停课。他的同事和学生抬着灵柩，在到墓园去的一路上，学校的唱诗班唱着《神圣的上帝》。三个神甫，两个助祭，所有的男学生和学校的教职员，还有主教那个穿着讲究的长衣的唱诗班都参加了出殡的行列。过路的行人碰见这隆重的出殡行列，就在胸前画十字，说：“求上帝让我们大家都死得这么风光才好。” 从墓园回到家里，尼基丁感动得很，从桌子抽屉里找出日记本，写道：“我们刚刚把伊波里特·伊波里狄奇·雷席茨基放进坟墓。 “安息吧，勤劳的工作者！玛尼雅、瓦丽雅和所有送殡的女人全都动了真情，哭了，也许因为她们知道这个不吸引人的、受尽折磨的人一生没被任何一个女人爱过吧。我原想在我同事的坟墓前说几句热情的话，可是有人警告我，说这样会惹得校长不高兴，因为他不喜欢死者。自从结婚以来，好象这还是第一天，我的心头不轻松。……”后来在这一学期里，没出什么特别的事。 冬天天气暖和，下着湿雪，不算太冷，比方说，在主显节①的前夜，大风整整哀号了一夜，仿佛到了秋天似的，水从房檐上滴下来，到早晨，在举行水祓除仪式②的时候，警察不许任何人到河面上去，因为据说冰在膨胀、变黑了。可是尽管天气坏，尼基丁生活得仍旧跟夏天一样幸福。他甚至又添了另外一种娱乐：他学会了玩“文特”③。只有两样东西偶尔使他烦躁，惹他生气，似乎妨碍他完全幸福，那就是猫和狗，这是他连同妻子的嫁妆一齐接收下来的。各房间里，特别是在早晨，总有一股动物园里的气味，任凭怎么样也消除不掉那股气味；猫常跟狗打架。凶恶的穆希卡一天要喂十次才行，它至今还是不认尼基丁，老是朝着他狂吠：“呜……汪汪汪……”大斋期间的一天午夜，他打完牌，从俱乐部出来，回家去。天黑，下雨，道路泥泞。尼基丁心里有一种不痛快的感觉，怎么也弄不清这是什么缘故：是因为他在俱乐部里打牌输了十二个卢布呢，还是因为付牌帐的时候有一个对手说，尼基丁有的是钱，这明明指的是他妻子的陪嫁钱？他并不心疼那十二卢布，对手的那句话也没什么可气的地方，不过他还是觉得不痛快。他甚至不想回家去了。 “唉，真糟糕！”他说，在一个灯柱旁边站住。 他猛的想到他所以不心疼那十二卢布，是因为那笔钱是他白白得来的。如果他是工人，那他就会明白每一个戈比的价值，就不会不在乎输赢。再者，他心想，就是他的全部幸福也完全是白白得来的，他没费什么气力，这幸福实际上对他来说是一种奢侈品，就跟药物对健康的人来说是奢侈品一样。要是他跟绝大多数的人那样老是为一块面包操心，为生存奋斗，要是他工作累得胸口和背脊疼痛，那么晚饭啦，温暖舒适的住所啦，家庭幸福啦，才会成为他生活中的必需品、奖赏，使生活变得美好、丰富多采；照眼前这样，那么，一切在他却只有一种古怪的、不明确的意义。 “唉，真糟糕！”他又说一遍，十分清楚地知道这种想法本身就已经是坏兆头。 等他走到家，玛尼雅已经睡在床上了。她呼吸平匀，脸上带着笑容，明明睡得很舒服。一只白猫躺在她身旁，蜷成一团，在打呼噜。尼基丁点亮蜡烛，开始吸烟，玛尼雅醒来了，一口气喝下一杯水。 “我吃了许多果子软糖，”她说，笑起来。“你到我家里去了吗？”她停了一停，问道。 “没有，我没去。” 尼基丁已经知道波梁斯基上尉（瓦丽雅最近在他身上寄托了很大希望）要调到西部的一省去，他已经在城里各处辞行，因此岳丈家里很沉闷。 “今天傍晚瓦丽雅来了一趟，”玛尼雅说，坐起来。“她什么也没说，可是从她脸上可以看出她多么难过，可怜的人！我非常不喜欢那个波梁斯基。他胖得肌肉松弛，一走路，一跳舞，他的腮帮子就哆嗦。……我绝不会挑中那种人。不过，我本来总当他是个正派人。” “就是现在我也认为他是正派人，”尼基丁说。 “那他为什么对待瓦丽雅那么恶劣？” “怎见得恶劣呢？”尼基丁问，开始气恼那只白猫，它正在伸懒腰，弓起背来。“据我所知，他并没求过婚，也没向她许过什么愿。” “那他为什么常到我家里去？要是他不想跟她结婚，他就不应该去。” 尼基丁吹熄蜡烛，上了床。可是他不想睡，也不想躺着。 他觉得自己的脑袋又大又空，跟粮仓一样，有些特别的新思想好象阴影似的在里面游荡。他心想，除了那盏长明灯的柔光所照着的恬静的家庭幸福以外，除了他和那只猫平静、甜蜜地生活在其中的这个小世界以外，还有另一个世界。……他就忽然生出热烈迫切的愿望，一心想到那个世界走，在一个工厂或者什么大作坊里做工，或者去发表演说，去写文章，去出版书籍，去奔走呼号，去劳累，去受苦。……他需要一样东西来抓住他的全身心，使得他忘记自己，不关心个人幸福，这种幸福的感觉是那样地单调无味。他的脑海里忽然活生生地现出谢巴尔津那剃光胡子的模样，吃惊地对他说：“您连莱辛的书都没读过！您多么落后！上帝啊，您多么堕落！” 玛尼雅又起来喝水。他瞧着她的脖子，瞧着她的丰满的肩膀和胸脯，想起当初那个准将在教堂里说过的那句话：“一朵美丽的鲜花。” “美丽的鲜花，”他嘟哝了一句，笑起来。 他的笑声由床底下睡意蒙？€的穆希卡的吠声接应着：“呜……汪汪汪……”沉重的愤恨象一把冰凉的小锤子那样捣他的心。他有意对玛尼雅说句粗鲁的话，甚至想跳起来打她。他心跳起来。 “这么说来，”他抑制着自己的愤怒问。“当初我经常到你们家里去，我就非跟你结婚不可吗？” “当然。这你自己十分清楚。” “真是怪事。” 过了一分钟，他又说一遍： “真是怪事。” 为了少说废话，为了让自己的心平静下来，尼基丁就走进自己的书房，在长沙发上躺下来，也不垫个枕头。后来他又躺在铺着地毯的地板上。 “简直是胡想！”他宽慰自己说。“你是教师，干的是顶高尚的职业。……你何必还要什么另外的世界？真是荒唐！” 可是他立刻很有把握地对自己说，他完全算不得教师，不过是个官僚罢了，跟那个教希腊语的捷克人一样庸碌无能。他从来没有当教师的志向，一点也不懂儿童教育，对它也从不发生兴趣。他不知道该怎样对待孩子才好，他不明白他所教的课的意义，也许简直没教对。已故的伊波里特·伊波里狄奇明显地愚笨，所有的同事和学生都知道他是怎样一个人，都料得出他的作为；可是他尼基丁跟那个捷克人一样，善于掩盖自己的愚笨，巧妙地蒙哄大家，装出他的一切都顺顺当当的样子。这些新想法使得尼基丁害怕。他竭力摆脱这种想法，称它们是傻念头，相信这全是因为他神经质的缘故，将来他会笑他自己的。 到第二天早晨，他果然笑自己神经质，骂自己是个娘们儿，可是他已经清楚地感到他的平静心境消失了，大概永远消失了。在这没抹泥灰的两层楼小房子里，要想幸福，在他已经不可能了。他领悟到幻想已经破灭，一种新的、不安定的、自觉的生活正在开始，这跟平静的心境和个人的幸福却不能并存。 第二天是星期日，他在中学校的小教堂里碰见校长和同事。他觉得他们都仿佛在费尽心机遮盖自己的无知和对生活的不满。他自己为了不在他们面前露出自己的心慌意乱，就赔着笑脸，讲些废话。然后他到火车站去着邮车开来，再开走；他觉得剩下自己一个人，不必跟别人敷衍，心里倒痛快些。 回到家里，他碰见瓦丽雅和他的岳丈来他家吃饭。瓦丽雅脸上带着泪痕，抱怨头痛。谢列斯托夫吃了很多东西，说眼下的青年人全靠不住，他们当中很少人有正人君子的风度。 “这是粗鄙！”他说。“我要当面对他这样说：”这是粗鄙，先生！'“尼基丁赔着笑脸，帮玛尼雅招待客人，可是吃过饭，他却走进自己的书房，关上了门。 三月的太阳光辉灿烂，透过玻璃窗，在桌上投下热的光。 这天只不过是这月的二十日，可是马车已经装上了轮子④，椋鸟已经在花园里嘁嘁喳喳地吵闹。看样子，玛纽霞马上会进来，伸出一只胳膊搂着他的脖子，告诉他说乘骑的马或者轻便马车已经等在门口，问他她应该穿什么衣服才不致挨冻。春天开始了，跟去年春天一样美妙，预示着同样的欢乐。……可是尼基丁却在想：现在请个假到莫斯科去，在涅格林诺他熟悉的那所房子里住下才好。在隔壁房间里，家里的人在喝咖啡，谈着波梁斯基上尉。他极力不去听他们的话，在自己的日记本上写道：“我的上帝，我是在什么地方啊？我让庸俗团团围住了。乏味而渺小的人、一罐罐的酸奶油、一壶壶的牛奶、蟑螂、蠢女人。……再也没有比庸俗更可怕、更使人感到屈辱、更叫人愁闷的了。我得从这儿逃掉，我今天就得逃，要不然我就要发疯了！” "Notes" ①主显节，基督教节日，在圣诞节后第十二天。 ②对水进行祓除的基督教的一种宗教仪式，在俄历一月六日举行。 ③一种牌戏名。 ④按理这时候天气还冷，雪没化，马车上应该装滑木。