notes from the underground- 第17部分

well　at　that　moment　that　all　this　was　out　of　Pushkin's　Silvio　and

Lermontov's　Masquerade。　　And　all　at　once　I　felt　horribly　ashamed；

so　ashamed　that　I　stopped　the　horse；　got　out　of　the　sledge；　and

stood　still　in　the　snow　in　the　middle　of　the　street。　　The　driver

gazed　at　me；　sighing　and　astonished。



What　was　I　to　do？　　I　could　not　go　on　thereit　was　evidently

stupid；　and　I　could　not　leave　things　as　they　were；　because　that

would　seem　as　though　。。。　Heavens；　how　could　I　leave　things！　　And

after　such　insults！　　〃No！〃　I　cried；　throwing　myself　into　the

sledge　again。　　〃It　is　ordained！　　It　is　fate！　　Drive　on；　drive

on！〃



And　in　my　impatience　I　punched　the　sledge…driver　on　the　back　of

the　neck。



〃What　are　you　up　to？　　What　are　you　hitting　me　for？〃　the　peasant

shouted；　but　he　whipped　up　his　nag　so　that　it　began　kicking。



The　wet　snow　was　falling　in　big　flakes；　I　unbuttoned　myself；

regardless　of　it。　　I　forgot　everything　else；　for　I　had　finally

decided　on　the　slap；　and　felt　with　horror　that　it　was　going　to

happen　_now；　at　once_；　and　that　_no　force　could　stop　it_。　　The

deserted　street　lamps　gleamed　sullenly　in　the　showy　darkness　like

torches　at　a　funeral。　　The　snow　drifted　under　my　great…coat；

under　my　coat；　under　my　cravat；　and　melted　there。　　I　did　not　wrap

myself　upall　was　lost；　anyway。



At　last　we　arrived。　　I　jumped　out；　almost　unconscious；　rail　up

the　steps　and　began　knocking　and　kicking　at　the　door。　　I　felt

fearfully　weak；　particularly　in　my　legs　and　knees。　　The　door　was

opened　quickly　as　though　they　knew　I　was　coming。　　As　a　fact；

Simonov　had　warned　them　that　perhaps　another　gentleman　would

arrive；　and　this　was　a　place　in　which　one　had　to　give　notice　and

to　observe　certain　precautions。　　It　was　one　of　those　〃millinery

establishments〃　which　were　abolished　by　the　police　a　good　time

ago。　　By　day　it　really　was　a　shop；　but　at　night；　if　one　had　an

introduction；　one　might　visit　it　for　other　purposes。



I　walked　rapidly　through　the　dark　shop　into　the　familiar　drawing…

room；　where　there　was　only　one　candle　burning；　and　stood　still　in

amazement：　there　was　no　one　there。　　〃Where　are　they？〃　I　asked

somebody。　　But　by　now；　of　course；　they　had　separated。　　Before　me

was　standing　a　person　with　a　stupid　smile；　the　〃madam〃　herself；

who　had　seen　me　before。　　A　minute　later　a　door　opened　and　another

person　came　in。



Taking　no　notice　of　anything　I　strode　about　the　room；　and；　I

believe；　I　talked　to　myself。　　I　felt　as　though　I　had　been　saved

from　death　and　was　conscious　of　this；　joyfully；　all　over：　I

should　have　given　that　slap；　I　should　certainly；　certainly　have

given　it！　　But　now　they　were　not　here　and。。。everything　had

vanished　and　changed！　　I　looked　round。　　I　could　not　realise　my

condition　yet。　　I　looked　mechanically　at　the　girl　who　had　come

in：　and　had　a　glimpse　of　a　fresh；　young；　rather　pale　face；　with

straight；　dark　eyebrows；　and　with　grave；　as　it　were　wondering；

eyes　that　attracted　me　at　once；　I　should　have　hated　her　if　she

had　been　smiling。　　I　began　looking　at　her　more　intently　and；　as

it　were；　with　effort。　　I　had　not　fully　collected　my　thoughts。　

There　was　something　simple　and　good…natured　in　her　face；　but

something　strangely　grave。　　I　am　sure　that　this　stood　in　her　way

here；　and　no　one　of　those　fools　had　noticed　her。　　She　could　not；

however；　have　been　called　a　beauty；　though　she　was　tall；

strong…looking；　and　well　built。　　She　was　very　simply　dressed。　

Something　loathsome　stirred　within　me。　　I　went　straight　up　to

her。



I　chanced　to　look　into　the　glass。　　My　harassed　face　struck　me　as

revolting　in　the　extreme；　pale；　angry；　abject；　with　dishevelled

hair。　　〃No　matter；　I　am　glad　of　it；〃　I　thought；　〃I　am　glad　that　I

shall　seem　repulsive　to　her；　I　like　that。〃

　



VI



。。。Somewhere　behind　a　screen　a　clock　began　wheezing；　as　though

oppressed　by　something；　as　though　someone　were　strangling　it。　

After　an　unnaturally　prolonged　wheezing　there　followed　a　shrill；

nasty；　and　as　it　were　unexpectedly　rapid；　chimeas　though

someone　were　suddenly　jumping　forward。　　It　struck　two。　　I　woke

up；　though　I　had　indeed　not　been　asleep　but　lying　half…conscious。



It　was　almost　completely　dark　in　the　narrow；　cramped；　low…pitched

room；　cumbered　up　with　an　enormous　wardrobe　and　piles　of

cardboard　boxes　and　all　sorts　of　frippery　and　litter。　　The　candle

end　that　had　been　burning　on　the　table　was　going　out　and　gave　a

faint　flicker　from　time　to　time。　　In　a　few　minutes　there　would　be

complete　darkness。



I　was　not　long　in　coming　to　myself；　everything　came　back　to　my

mind　at　once；　without　an　effort；　as　though　it　had　been　in　ambush

to　pounce　upon　me　again。　　And；　indeed；　even　while　I　was

unconscious　a　point　seemed　continually　to　remain　in　my　memory

unforgotten；　and　round　it　my　dreams　moved　drearily。　　But　strange

to　say；　everything　that　had　happened　to　me　in　that　day　seemed　to

me　now；　on　waking；　to　be　in　the　far；　far　away　past；　as　though　I

had　long；　long　ago　lived　all　that　down。



My　head　was　full　of　fumes。　　Something　seemed　to　be　hovering　over

me；　rousing　me；　exciting　me；　and　making　me　restless。　　Misery　and

spite　seemed　surging　up　in　me　again　and　seeking　an　outlet。　

Suddenly　I　saw　beside　me　two　wide　open　eyes　scrutinising　me

curiously　and　persistently。　　The　look　in　those　eyes　was　coldly

detached；　sullen；　as　it　were　utterly　remote；　it　weighed　upon　me。



A　grim　idea　came　into　my　brain　and　passed　all　over　my　body；　as　a

horrible　sensation；　such　as　one　feels　when　one　goes　into　a　damp

and　mouldy　cellar。　　There　was　something　unnatural　in　those　two

eyes；　beginning　to　look　at　me　only　now。　　I　recalled；　too；　that

during　those　two　hours　I　had　not　said　a　single　word　to　this

creature；　and　had；　in　fact；　considered　it　utterly　superfluous；　in

fact；　the　silence　had　for　some　reason　gratified　me。　　Now　I

suddenly　realised　vividly　the　hideous　idearevolting　as　a

spiderof　vice；　which；　without　love；　grossly　and　shamelessly

begins　with　that　in　which　true　love　finds　its　consummation。　　For

a　long　time　we　gazed　at　each　other　like　that；　but　she　did　not

drop　her　eyes　before　mine　and　her　expression　did　not　change；　so

that　at　last　I　felt　uncomfortable。



〃What　is　your　name？〃　I　asked　abruptly；　to　put　an　end　to　it。



〃Liza；〃　she　answered　almost　in　a　whisper；　but　somehow　far　from

graciously；　and　she　turned　her　eyes　away。



I　was　silent。



〃What　weather！　　The　snow。。。it's　disgusting！〃　I　said；　almost　to

myself；　putting　my　arm　under　my　head　despondently；　and　gazing　at

the　ceiling。



She　made　no　answer。　　This　was　horrible。



〃Have　you　always　lived　in　Petersburg？〃　I　asked　a　minute　later；

almost　angrily；　turning　my　head　slightly　towards　her。



〃No。〃



〃Where　do　you　come　from？〃



〃From　Riga；〃　she　answered　reluctantly。



〃Are　you　a　German？〃



〃No；　Russian。〃



〃Have　you　been　here　long？〃



〃Where？〃



〃In　this　house？〃



〃A　fortnight。〃



She　spoke　more　and　more　jerkily。　　The　candle　went　out；　I　could　no

longer　distinguish　her　face。



〃Have　you　a　father　and　mother？〃



〃Yes。。。no。。。I　have。〃



〃Where　are　they？〃



〃There。。。in　Riga。〃



〃What　are　they？〃



〃Oh；　nothing。〃



〃Nothing？　　Why；　what　class　are　they？〃



〃Tradespeople。〃



〃Have　you　always　lived　with　them？〃



〃Yes。〃



〃How　old　are　you？〃



〃Twenty。〃



〃Why　did　you　leave　them？〃　　　　　　



〃Oh；　for　no　reason。〃



That　answer　meant　〃Let　me　alone；　I　feel　sick；　sad。〃



We　were　silent。



God　knows　why　I　did　not　go　away。　　I　felt　myself　more　and　more

sick　and　dreary。　　The　images　of　the　previous　day　began　of

themselves；　apart　from　my　will；　flitting　through　my　memory　in

confusion。　　I　suddenly　recalled　something　I　had　seen　that　morning

when；　full　of　anxious　thoughts；　I　was　hurrying　to　the　office。



〃I　saw　them　carrying　a　coffin　out　yesterday　and　they　nearly

dropped　it；〃　I　suddenly　said　aloud；　not　that　I　desired　to　open

the　conversation；　but　as　it　were　by　accident。



〃A　coffin？〃



〃Yes；　in　the　Haymarket；　they　were　bringing　it　up　out　of　a

cellar。〃



〃From　a　cellar？〃



〃Not　from　a　cellar；　but　a　basement。　　Oh；　you　know。。。down

below。。。from　a　house　of　ill…fame。　　It　was　filthy　all

round。。。Egg…shells；　litter。。。a　stench。　　It　was　loathsome。〃



Silence。



〃A　nasty　day　to　be　buried；〃　I　began；　simply　to　avoid　being

silent。



〃Nasty；　in　what　way？〃



〃The　snow；　the　wet。〃　（I　yawned。）



〃It　makes　no　difference；〃　she　said　suddenly；　after　a　brief

silence。



〃No；　it's　horrid。〃　（I　yawned　again）。　　〃The　gravediggers　must　have

sworn　at　getting　drenched　by　the　snow。　　And　there　must　have　been

water　in　the　grave。〃



〃Why　water　in　the　grave？〃　she　asked；　with　a　sort　of　curiosity；

but　speaking　even　more　harshly　and　abruptly　than　before。



I　suddenly　began　to　feel　provoked。



〃Why；　there　must　have　been　water　at　the　bottom　a　foot　deep。　　You

can't　dig　a　dry　grave　in　Volkovo　Cemetery。〃



〃Why？〃



〃Why？　　Why；　the　place　is　waterlogged。　　It's　a　regular　marsh。　　So

they　bury　them　in　water。　　I've　seen　it　myself。。。many　times。〃



（I　had　never　seen　it　once；　indeed　I　had　never　been　in　Volkovo；

and　had　only　heard　stories　of　it。）



〃Do　you　mean　to　say；　you　don't　mind　how　you　die？〃



〃But　why　should　I　die？〃　she　answered；　as　though　defending

herself。



〃Why；　some　day　you　will　die；　and　you　will　die　just　the　same　as

that　dead　woman。　　She　was。。。a　girl　like　you。　　She　died　of

consumption。〃



〃A　wench　would　have　died　in　hospital。。。〃　　（She　knows　all　about　it

already：　she　said　〃wench；〃　not　〃girl。〃）



〃She　was　in　debt　to　her　madam；〃　I　retorted；　more　and　more

provoked　by　the　discussion；　〃and　went　on　earning　money　for　her　up

to　the　end；　though　she　was　in　consumption。　　Some　sledge…drivers

standing　by　were　talking　about　her　to　some　soldiers　and　telling

them　so。　　No　doubt　they　knew　her。　　They　were　laughing。　　They　were

going　to　meet　in　a　pot…house　to　drink　to　her　memory。〃



A　great　deal　o