the man who was afraid-第38节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


efully　over　the　boards；　on　tiptoe；　his　hands　were　clasped　behind　his　back；　and　his　broad；　bearded　face　was　now　transformed　into　a　smile　of　astonishment　and　of　a　naive　delight。

〃Eh！　but　feel；　my　kind；　brave　man！〃

entreated　Vassa；　plaintively；　nodding　her　head。　And　her　sister；　her　chest　bent　forward；　her　hand　still　higher；　wound　up　the　song　in　powerful　triumphant　notes：

〃The　yearning　and　the　pangs　of　love！〃

When　she　finished　singing；　she　looked　haughtily　about　her；　and　seating　herself　by　Foma's　side；　clasped　his　neck　with　a　firm　and　powerful　hand。

〃Well；　was　it　a　nice　song？〃

〃It's　capital！〃　said　Foma　with　a　sigh；　as　he　smiled　at　her。

The　song　filled　his　heart　with　thirst　for　tenderness　and；　still　full　of　charming　sounds；　it　quivered；　but　at　the　touch　of　her　arm　he　felt　awkward　and　ashamed　before　the　other　people。

〃Bravo…o！　Bravo；　Aleksandra　Sarelyevna！〃　shouted　Ookhtishchev；　and　the　others　were　clapping　their　hands。　But　she　paid　no　attention　to　them；　and　embracing　Foma　authoritatively；　said：

〃Well；　make　me　a　present　of　something　for　the　song。〃

〃Very　well；　I　will；〃　Foma　assented。

〃What？〃

〃You　tell　me。〃

〃I'll　tell　you　when　we　come　to　town。　And　if　you'll　give　me　what　I　likeOh；　how　I　will　love　you！〃

〃For　the　present？〃　asked　Foma；　smiling　suspiciously。　〃You　ought　to　love　me　anyway。〃

She　looked　at　him　calmly　and；　after　a　moment's　thought；　said　resolutely：

〃It's　too　soon　to　love　you　anyway。　I　will　not　lie。　Why　should　I　lie　to　you？　I　am　telling　you　frankly。　I　love　you　for　money；　for　presents。　Because　aside　from　money；　men　have　nothing。　They　cannot　give　anything　more　than　money。　Nothing　of　worth。　I　know　it　well　already。　One　can　love　merely　so。　Yes；　wait　a　littleI'll　know　you　better　and　then；　perhaps；　I　may　love　you　free　of　charge。　And　meanwhile；　you　mustn't　take　me　amiss。　I　need　much　money　in　my　mode　of　life。〃

Foma　listened　to　her；　smiled　and　now　and　then　quivered　from　the　nearness　of　her　sound；　well…shaped　body。　Zvantzev's　sour；　cracked　and　boring　voice　was　falling　on　his　ears。　〃I　don't　like　it。　I　cannot　understand　the　beauty　of　this　renowned　Russian　song。　What　is　it　that　sounds　in　it？　Eh？　The　howl　of　a　wolf。　Something　hungry；　wild。　Eh！　it's　the　groan　of　a　sick　dogaltogether　something　beastly。　There's　nothing　cheerful；　there's　no　chic　to　it；　there　are　no　live　and　vivifying　sounds　in　it。　No；　you　ought　to　hear　what　and　how　the　French　peasant　sings。　Ah！　or　the　Italian。〃

〃Excuse　me；　Ivan　Nikolayevich；〃　cried　Ookhtishchev；　agitated。

〃I　must　agree　with　you；　the　Russian　song　is　monotonous　and　gloomy。　It　has　not；　you　know；　that　brilliancy　of　culture；〃　said　the　man　with　the　side　whiskers　wearily；　as　he　sipped　some　wine　out　of　his　glass。

〃But　nevertheless；　there　is　always　a　warm　heart　in　it；〃　put　in　the　red…haired　lady；　as　she　peeled　an　orange。

The　sun　was　setting。　Sinking　somewhere　far　beyond　the　forest；　on　the　meadow　shore；　it　painted　the　entire　forest　with　purple　tints　and　cast　rosy　and　golden　spots　over　the　dark　cold　water。　Foma　gazed　in　that　direction　at　this　play　of　the　sunbeams；　watched　how　they　quivered　as　they　were　transposed　over　the　placid　and　vast　expanse　of　waters；　and　catching　fragments　of　conversation；　he　pictured　to　himself　the　words　as　a　swarm　of　dark　butterflies；　busily　fluttering　in　the　air。　Sasha；　her　head　resting　on　his　shoulder；　was　softly　whispering　into　his　ear　something　at　which　he　blushed　and　was　confused；　for　he　felt　that　she　was　kindling　in　him　the　desire　to　embrace　this　woman　and　kiss　her　unceasingly。　Aside　from　her；　none　of　those　assembled　there　interested　himwhile　Zvantzev　and　the　gentleman　with　the　side　whiskers　were　actually　repulsive　to　him。

〃What　are　you　staring　at？　Eh？〃　he　heard　Ookhtishchev's　jestingly…　stern　voice。

The　peasant；　at　whom　Ookhtishchev　shouted；　drew　the　cap　from　his　head；　clapped　it　against　his　knee　and　answered；　with　a　smile：

〃I　came　over　to　listen　to　the　lady's　song。〃

〃Well；　does　she　sing　well？〃

〃What　a　question！　Of　course；〃　said　the　peasant；　looking　at　Sasha；　with　admiration　in　his　eyes。

〃That's　right！〃　exclaimed　Ookhtishchev。

〃There　is　a　great　power　of　voice　in　that　lady's　breast；〃　said　the　peasant；　nodding　his　head。

At　his　words；　the　ladies　burst　out　laughing　and　the　men　made　some　double…meaning　remarks　about　Sasha。

After　she　had　calmly　listened　to　these　and　said　nothing　in　reply；　Sasha　asked　the　peasant：

〃Do　you　sing？〃

〃We　sing　a　little！〃　and　he　waved　his　hand；　〃What　songs　do　you　know？〃

〃All　kinds。　I　love　singing。〃　And　he　smiled　apologetically。

〃Come；　let's　sing　something　together；　you　and　I。〃

〃How　can　we？　Am　I　a　match　for　you？〃

〃Well；　strike　up！〃

〃May　I　sit　down？〃

〃Come　over　here；　to　the　table。〃

〃How　lively　this　is！〃　exclaimed　Zvantzev；　wrinkling　his　face。

〃If　you　find　it　tedious；　go　and　drown　yourself；〃　said　Sasha；　angrily　flashing　her　eyes　at　him。

〃No；　the　water　is　cold；〃　replied　Zvantzev；　shrinking　at　her　glance。

〃As　you　please！〃　The　woman　shrugged　her　shoulders。　〃But　it　is　about　time　you　did　it；　and　then；　there's　also　plenty　of　water　now；　so　that　you　wouldn't　spoil　it　all　with　your　rotten　body。〃

〃Fie；　how　witty！〃　hissed　the　youth；　turning　away　from　her；　and　added　with　contempt：　〃In　Russia　even　the　prostitutes　are　rude。〃

He　addressed　himself　to　his　neighbour；　but　the　latter　gave　him　only　an　intoxicated　smile　in　return。　Ookhtishchev　was　also　drunk。　Staring　into　the　face　of　his　companion；　with　his　eyes　grown　dim；　he　muttered　something　and　heard　nothing。　The　lady　with　the　bird…　like　face　was　pecking　candy；　holding　the　box　under　her　very　nose。　Pavlinka　went　away　to　the　edge　of　the　raft　and；　standing　there；　threw　orange　peels　into　the　water。

〃I　never　before　participated　in　such　an　absurd　outing　and　company；〃　said　Zvantzev；　to　his　neighbour；　plaintively。

And　Foma　watched　him　with　a　smile；　delighted　that　this　feeble　and　ugly…looking　man　felt　bored；　and　that　Sasha　had　insulted　him。　Now　and　then　he　cast　at　her　a　kind　glance　of　approval。　He　was　pleased　with　the　fact　that　she　was　so　frank　with　everybody　and　that　she　bore　herself　proudly；　like　a　real　gentlewoman。

The　peasant　seated　himself　on　the　boards　at　her　feet；　clasped　his　knees　in　his　hands；　lifted　his　face　to　her　and　seriously　listened　to　her　words。

〃You　must　raise　your　voice；　when　I　lower　mine；　understand？〃

〃I　understand；　but；　Madam；　you　ought　to　hand　me　some　just　to　give　me　courage！〃

〃Foma；　give　him　a　glass　of　brandy！〃

And　when　the　peasant　emptied　it；　cleared　his　throat　with　pleasure；　licked　his　lips　and　said：　〃Now；　I　can　do　it；〃　she　ordered；　knitting　her　brow：

〃Begin！〃

The　peasant　made　a　wry　mouth；　lifted　his　eyes　to　her　face；　and　started　in　a　high…pitched　tenor：

〃I　cannot　drink；　I　cannot　eat。〃

Trembling　in　every　limb；　the　woman　sobbed　out　tremulously；　with　strange　sadness：

〃Wine　cannot　gladden　my　soul。〃

The　peasant　smiled　sweetly；　tossed　his　head　to　and　fro；　and　closing　his　eyes；　poured　out　into　the　air　a　tremulous　wave　of　high…pitched　notes：

〃Oh；　time　has　come　for　me　to　bid　goodbye！〃

And　the　woman；　shuddering　and　writhing；　moaned　and　wailed：

〃Oi；　from　my　kindred　I　must　part。〃

Lowering　his　voice　and　swaying　to　and　fro；　the　peasant　declaimed　in　a　sing…song　with　a　remarkably　intense　expression　of　anguish：

〃Alas；　to　foreign　lands　I　must　depart。〃

When　the　two　voices；　yearning　and　sobbing；　poured　forth　into　the　silence　and　freshness　of　the　evening；　everything　about　them　seemed　warmer　and　better；　everything　seemed　to　smile　the　sorrowful　smile　of　sympathy　on　the　anguish　of　the　man　whom　an　obscure　power　is　tearing　away　from　his　native　soil　into　some　foreign　place；　where　hard　labour　and　degradation　are　in　store　for　him。　It　seemed　as　though　not　the　sounds；　nor　the　song；　but　the　burning　tears　of　the　human　heart　in　which　the　plaint　had　surged　upit　seemed　as　though　these　tears　moistened　the　air。　Wild　grief　and　pain　from　the　sores　of　body　and　soul；　which　were　wearied　in　the　struggle　with　stern　life；　intense　sufferings　from　the　wounds　dealt　to　man　by　the　iron　hand　of　wantall　this　was　invested　in　the　simple；　crude　words　and　was　tossed　in　ineffably　melancholy　sounds　toward　the　distant；　empty　sky；　which　has　no　echo　for　anybody　or　anything。

Foma　had　stepped　aside　from　the　singers；　and　stared　at　them　with　a　feeling　akin　to　fright；　and　the　song；　in　a　huge　wave；　poured　forth　into　his　breast；　and　the　wild　power　of　grief；　with　which　it　had　been　invested；　clutched　his　heart　painfully。　He　felt　that　tears　would　soon　gush　from　his　breast；　something　was　clogging　his　throat　and　his　face　was　quivering。　He　dimly　saw　Sasha's　black　eyes；　immobile　and　flashing　gloomily；　they　seemed　to　him　enormous　and　still　growing　larger　and　larger。　And　it　seemed　to　him　that　it　was　not　two　persons　who　were　singingthat　everything　about　him　was　singing　and　sobbing；　quivering　and　palpitating　in　torrents　of　sorrow；　madly　striving　somewhere；　shedding　burning　tears；　and　alland　all　things　living　seemed　clasped　in　one　powerful　embrace　of　despair。　And　it　seemed　to　him　that　he；　too；　was　singing　in　unison　with　all　of　themwith　the　people；　the　river　and　the　distant　shore；　whence　came　plaintive　moans　that　mingled　with　the　song。

Now　the　peasant　went　down　on　his　knees；　and　gazing　at　Sasha；　waved　his　hands；　and　she　bent　down