notes from the underground- 第20部分

away　from　here；　you　will　go　away　as　though　you　were　to　blame。　

You　will　change　to　another　house；　then　to　a　third；　then　somewhere

else；　till　you　come　down　at　last　to　the　Haymarket。　　There　you

will　be　beaten　at　every　turn；　that　is　good　manners　there；　the

visitors　don't　know　how　to　be　friendly　without　beating　you。　　You

don't　believe　that　it　is　so　hateful　there？　　Go　and　look　for

yourself　some　time；　you　can　see　with　your　own　eyes。　　Once；　one

New　Year's　Day；　I　saw　a　woman　at　a　door。　　They　had　turned　her　out

as　a　joke；　to　give　her　a　taste　of　the　frost　because　she　had　been

crying　so　much；　and　they　shut　the　door　behind　her。　　At　nine

o'clock　in　the　morning　she　was　already　quite　drunk；　dishevelled；

half…naked；　covered　with　bruises；　her　face　was　powdered；　but　she

had　a　black…eye；　blood　was　trickling　from　her　nose　and　her　teeth；

some　cabman　had　just　given　her　a　drubbing。　　She　was　sitting　on

the　stone　steps；　a　salt　fish　of　some　sort　was　in　her　hand；　she

was　crying；　wailing　something　about　her　luck　and　beating　with　the

fish　on　the　steps；　and　cabmen　and　drunken　soldiers　were　crowding

in　the　doorway　taunting　her。　　You　don't　believe　that　you　will

ever　be　like　　that？　　I　should　be　sorry　to　believe　it；　too；　but

how　do　you　know；　maybe　ten　years；　eight　years　ago　that　very　woman

with　the　salt　fish　came　here　fresh　as　a　cherub；　innocent；　pure；

knowing　no　evil；　blushing　at　every　word。　　Perhaps　she　was　like

you；　proud；　ready　to　take　offence；　not　like　the　others；　perhaps

she　looked　like　a　queen；　and　knew　what　happiness　was　in　store　for

the　man　who　should　love　her　and　whom　she　should　love。　　Do　you　see

how　it　ended？　　And　what　if　at　that　very　minute　when　she　was

beating　on　the　filthy　steps　with　that　fish；　drunken　and

dishevelledwhat　if　at　that　very　minute　she　recalled　the　pure

early　days　in　her　father's　house；　when　she　used　to　go　to　school

and　the　neighbour's　son　watched　for　her　on　the　way；　declaring

that　he　would　love　her　as　long　as　he　lived；　that　he　would　devote

his　life　to　her；　and　when　they　vowed　to　love　one　another　for　ever

and　be　married　as　soon　as　they　were　grown　up！　　No；　Liza；　it　would

be　happy　for　you　if　you　were　to　die　soon　of　consumption　in　some

corner；　in　some　cellar　like　that　woman　just　now。　　In　the

hospital；　do　you　say？　　You　will　be　lucky　if　they　take　you；　but

what　if　you　are　still　of　use　to　the　madam　here？　　Consumption　is　a

queer　disease；　it　is　not　like　fever。　　The　patient　goes　on　hoping

till　the　last　minute　and　says　he　is　all　right。　　He　deludes

himself。　　And　that　just　suits　your　madam。　　Don't　doubt　it；　that's

how　it　is；　you　have　sold　your　soul；　and　what　is　more　you　owe

money；　so　you　daren't　say　a　word。　　But　when　you　are　dying；　all

will　abandon　you；　all　will　turn　away　from　you；　for　then　there

will　be　nothing　to　get　from　you。　　What's　more；　they　will　reproach

you　for　cumbering　the　place；　for　being　so　long　over　dying。　

However　you　beg　you　won't　get　a　drink　of　water　without　abuse：

'Whenever　are　you　going　off；　you　nasty　hussy；　you　won't　let　us

sleep　with　your　moaning；　you　make　the　gentlemen　sick。'　That's

true；　I　have　heard　such　things　said　myself。　　They　will　thrust　you

dying　into　the　filthiest　corner　in　the　cellarin　the　damp　and

darkness；　what　will　your　thoughts　be；　lying　there　alone？　　When

you　die；　strange　hands　will　lay　you　out；　with　grumbling　and

impatience；　no　one　will　bless　you；　no　one　will　sigh　for　you；　they

only　want　to　get　rid　of　you　as　soon　as　may　be；　they　will　buy　a

coffin；　take　you　to　the　grave　as　they　did　that　poor　woman　today；

and　celebrate　your　memory　at　the　tavern。　　In　the　grave；　sleet；

filth；　wet　snowno　need　to　put　themselves　out　for　you'Let　her

down；　Vanuha；　it's　just　like　her　luckeven　here；　she　is

head…foremost；　the　hussy。　　Shorten　the　cord；　you　rascal。'　'It's

all　right　as　it　is。'　'All　right；　is　it？　　Why；　she's　on　her　side！　

She　was　a　fellow…creature；　after　all！　　But；　never　mind；　throw　the

earth　on　her。'　And　they　won't　care　to　waste　much　time　quarrelling

over　you。　　They　will　scatter　the　wet　blue　clay　as　quick　as　they

can　and　go　off　to　the　tavern　。。。　and　there　your　memory　on　earth

will　end；　other　women　have　children　to　go　to　their　graves；

fathers；　husbands。　　While　for　you　neither　tear；　nor　sigh；　nor

remembrance；　no　one　in　the　whole　world　will　ever　come　to　you；

your　name　will　vanish　from　the　face　of　the　earthas　though　you

had　never　existed；　never　been　born　at　all！　　Nothing　but　filth　and

mud；　however　you　knock　at　your　coffin　lid　at　night；　when　the　dead

arise；　however　you　cry：　'Let　me　out；　kind　people；　to　live　in　the

light　of　day！　　My　life　was　no　life　at　all；　my　life　has　been

thrown　away　like　a　dish…clout；　it　was　drunk　away　in　the　tavern　at

the　Haymarket；　let　me　out；　kind　people；　to　live　in　the　world

again。'〃



And　I　worked　myself　up　to　such　a　pitch　that　I　began　to　have　a

lump　in　my　throat　myself；　and。。。and　all　at　once　I　stopped；　sat　up

in　dismay　and；　bending　over　apprehensively；　began　to　listen　with

a　beating　heart。　　I　had　reason　to　be　troubled。



I　had　felt　for　some　time　that　I　was　turning　her　soul　upside　down

and　rending　her　heart；　andand　the　more　I　was　convinced　of　it；

the　more　eagerly　I　desired　to　gain　my　object　as　quickly　and　as

effectually　as　possible。　　It　was　the　exercise　of　my　skill　that

carried　me　away；　yet　it　was　not　merely　sport。。。。



I　knew　I　was　speaking　stiffly；　artificially；　even　bookishly；　in

fact；　I　could　not　speak　except　〃like　a　book。〃　　But　that　did　not

trouble　me：　I　knew；　I　felt　that　I　should　be　understood　and　that

this　very　bookishness　might　be　an　assistance。　　But　now；　having

attained　my　effect；　I　was　suddenly　panic…stricken。　　Never　before

had　I　witnessed　such　despair！　　She　was　lying　on　her　face；

thrusting　her　face　into　the　pillow　and　clutching　it　in　both

hands。　　Her　heart　was　being　torn。　　Her　youthful　body　was

shuddering　all　over　as　though　in　convulsions。　　Suppressed　sobs

rent　her　bosom　and　suddenly　burst　out　in　weeping　and　walling；

then　she　pressed　closer　into　the　pillow：　she　did　not　want　anyone

here；　not　a　living　soul；　to　know　of　her　anguish　and　her　tears。　

She　bit　the　pillow；　bit　her　hand　till　it　bled　（I　saw　that

afterwards）；　or；　thrusting　her　fingers　into　her　dishevelled　hair；

seemed　rigid　with　the　effort　of　restraint；　holding　her　breath　and

clenching　her　teeth。　　I　began　saying　something；　begging　her　to

calm　herself；　but　felt　that　I　did　not　dare；　and　all　at　once；　in　a

sort　of　cold　shiver；　almost　in　terror；　began　fumbling　in　the

dark；　trying　hurriedly　to　get　dressed　to　go。　　It　was　dark；　though

I　tried　my　best　I　could　not　finish　dressing　quickly。　　Suddenly　I

felt　a　box　of　matches　and　a　candlestick　with　a　whole　candle　in

it。　　As　soon　as　the　room　was　lighted　up；　Liza　sprang　up；　sat　up

in　bed；　and　with　a　contorted　face；　with　a　half　insane　smile；

looked　at　me　almost　senselessly。　　I　sat　down　beside　her　and　took

her　hands；　she　came　to　herself；　made　an　impulsive　movement

towards　me；　would　have　caught　hold　of　me；　but　did　not　dare；　and

slowly　bowed　her　head　before　me。



　〃Liza；　my　dear；　I　was　wrong。。。forgive　me；　my　dear；〃　I　began；　but

she　squeezed　my　hand　in　her　fingers　so　tightly　that　I　felt　I　was

saying　the　wrong　thing　and　stopped。



〃This　is　my　address；　Liza；　come　to　me。〃



〃I　will　come；〃　she　answered　resolutely；　her　head　still　bowed。



〃But　now　I　am　going；　good…bye。。。till　we　meet　again。〃



I　got　up；　she；　too；　stood　up　and　suddenly　flushed　all　over；　gave

a　shudder；　snatched　up　a　shawl　that　was　lying　on　a　chair　and

muffled　herself　in　it　to　her　chin。　　As　she　did　this　she　gave

another　sickly　smile；　blushed　and　looked　at　me　strangely。　　I　felt

wretched；　I　was　in　haste　to　get　awayto　disappear。



〃Wait　a　minute；〃　she　said　suddenly；　in　the　passage　just　at　the

doorway；　stopping　me　with　her　hand　on　my　overcoat。　　She　put　down

the　candle　in　hot　haste　and　ran　off；　evidently　she　had　thought　of

something　or　wanted　to　show　me　something。　　As　she　ran　away　she

flushed；　her　eyes　shone；　and　there　was　a　smile　on　her　lipswhat

was　the　meaning　of　it？　　Against　my　will　I　waited：　she　came　back　a

minute　later　with　an　expression　that　seemed　to　ask　forgiveness

for　something。　　In　fact；　it　was　not　the　same　face；　not　the　same

look　as　the　evening　before：　sullen；　mistrustful　and　obstinate。　

Her　eyes　now　were　imploring；　soft；　and　at　the　same　time　trustful；

caressing；　timid。　　The　expression　with　which　children　look　at

people　they　are　very　fond　of；　of　whom　they　are　asking　a　favour。　

Her　eyes　were　a　light　hazel；　they　were　lovely　eyes；　full　of　life；

and　capable　of　expressing　love　as　well　as　sullen　hatred。



Making　no　explanation；　as　though　I；　as　a　sort　of　higher　being；

must　understand　everything　without　explanations；　she　held　out　a

piece　of　paper　to　me。　　Her　whole　face　was　positively　beaming　at

that　instant　with　naive；　almost　childish；　triumph。　　I　unfolded

it。　　It　was　a　letter　to　her　from　a　medical　student　or　someone　of

that　sorta　very　high…flown　and　flowery；　but　extremely

respectful；　love…letter。　　I　don't　recall　the　words　now；　but　I

remember　well　that　through　the　high…flown　phrases　there　was

apparent　a　genuine　feeling；　which　cannot　be　feigned。　　When　I　had

finished　reading　it　I　met　her　glowing；　questioning；　and

childishly　impatient　eyes　fixed　upon　me。　　She　fastened　her　eyes

upon　my　face　and　waited　impatiently　for　what　I　should　say。　　In　a

few　words；　hurriedly；　but　with　a　sort　of　joy　and　pride；　she

explained　to　me　that　she　had　been　to　a　dance　somewhere　in　a

private　house；　a　family　of　〃very　nice　people；　_who　knew　nothing_；

absolutely　nothing；　for　she　had　only　come　here　so　lately　and　it

had　all　happened。。。and　she　hadn't　made　up　her　mind　to　stay　and

was　certainly　going　away　as　soon　as　she　had　paid　her　debt。。。〃　and

at　that　party　there　had　been　the　student　who　had　danced　with　her

all　the　evening。　　He　had　talked　to　her；　and　it　turned　out　that　he

had　known　her　in　old　days　at　Riga　when　he　was　a　child；　they　had

played　together；　but　a　very　long　time　agoand　he　knew　her

parents；　but　_about　this_　he　k