notes from the underground-第24章

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my　vanity　was　somehow　wounded。　　The　silence　continued。　　I　almost

nudged　her。



〃Why　are　you〃　she　began　and　stopped。　　But　I　understood：　there

was　a　quiver　of　something　different　in　her　voice；　not　abrupt；

harsh　and　unyielding　as　before；　but　something　soft　and

shamefaced；　so　shamefaced　that　I　suddenly　felt　ashamed　and

guilty。



〃What？〃　I　asked；　with　tender　curiosity



〃Why；　you　。。。〃



〃What？〃



〃Why；　you　。。。　speak　somehow　like　a　book；〃　she　said；　and　again

there　was　a　note　of　irony　in　her　voice。



That　remark　sent　a　pang　to　my　heart。　　It　was　not　what　I　was

expecting。



I　did　not　understand　that　she　was　hiding　her　feelings　under

irony；　that　this　is　usually　the　last　refuge　of　modest　and

chaste…souled　people　when　the　privacy　of　their　soul　is　coarsely

and　intrusively　invaded；　and　that　their　pride　makes　them　refuse

to　surrender　till　the　last　moment　and　shrink　from　giving

expression　to　their　feelings　before　you。　　I　ought　to　have　guessed

the　truth　from　the　timidity　with　which　she　had　repeatedly

approached　her　sarcasm；　only　bringing　herself　to　utter　it　at　last

with　an　effort。　　But　I　did　not　guess；　and　an　evil　feeling　took

possession　of　me。



〃Wait　a　bit！〃　I　thought。





VII



〃Oh；　hush；　Liza！　　How　can　you　talk　about　being　like　a　book；　when

it　makes　even　me；　an　outsider；　feel　sick？　　Though　I　don't　look　at

it　as　an　outsider；　for；　indeed；　it　touches　me　to　the　heart。。。。　Is

it　possible；　is　it　possible　that　you　do　not　feel　sick　at　being

here　yourself？　　Evidently　habit　does　wonders！　　God　knows　what

habit　can　do　with　anyone。　　Can　you　seriously　think　that　you　will

never　grow　old；　that　you　will　always　be　good…looking；　and　that

they　will　keep　you　here　for　ever　and　ever？　　I　say　nothing　of　the

loathsomeness　of　the　life　here。。。。　Though　let　me　tell　you　this

about　itabout　your　present　life；　I　mean；　here　though　you　are

young　now；　attractive；　nice；　with　soul　and　feeling；　yet　you　know

as　soon　as　I　came　to　myself　just　now　I　felt　at　once　sick　at　being

here　with　you！　　One　can　only　come　here　when　one　is　drunk。　　But　if

you　were　anywhere　else；　living　as　good　people　live；　I　should

perhaps　be　more　than　attracted　by　you；　should　fall　in　love　with

you；　should　be　glad　of　a　look　from　you；　let　alone　a　word；　I

should　hang　about　your　door；　should　go　down　on　my　knees　to　you；

should　look　upon　you　as　my　betrothed　and　think　it　an　honour　to　be

allowed　to。　　I　should　not　dare　to　have　an　impure　thought　about

you。　　But　here；　you　see；　I　know　that　I　have　only　to　whistle　and

you　have　to　come　with　me　whether　you　like　it　or　not。　　I　don't

consult　your　wishes；　but　you　mine。　　The　lowest　labourer　hires

himself　as　a　workman；　but　he　doesn't　make　a　slave　of　himself

altogether；　besides；　he　knows　that　he　will　be　free　again

presently。　　But　when　are　you　free？　　Only　think　what　you　are

giving　up　here？　　What　is　it　you　are　making　a　slave　of？　　It　is

your　soul；　together　with　your　body；　you　are　selling　your　soul

which　you　have　no　right　to　dispose　of！　　You　give　your　love　to　be

outraged　by　every　drunkard！　　Love！　　But　that's　everything；　you

know；　it's　a　priceless　diamond；　it's　a　maiden's　treasure；

lovewhy；　a　man　would　be　ready　to　give　his　soul；　to　face　death

to　gain　that　love。　　But　how　much　is　your　love　worth　now？　　You　are

sold；　all　of　you；　body　and　soul；　and　there　is　no　need　to　strive

for　love　when　you　can　have　everything　without　love。　　And　you　know

there　is　no　greater　insult　to　a　girl　than　that；　do　you

understand？　　To　be　sure；　I　have　heard　that　they　comfort　you；　poor

fools；　they　let　you　have　lovers　of　your　own　here。　　But　you　know

that's　simply　a　farce；　that's　simply　a　sham；　it's　just　laughing

at　you；　and　you　are　taken　in　by　it！　　Why；　do　you　suppose　he

really　loves　you；　that　lover　of　yours？　　I　don't　believe　it。　　How

can　he　love　you　when　he　knows　you　may　be　called　away　from　him　any

minute？　　He　would　be　a　low　fellow　if　he　did！　　Will　he　have　a

grain　of　respect　for　you？　　What　have　you　in　common　with　him？　　He

laughs　at　you　and　robs　youthat　is　all　his　love　amounts　to！　　You

are　lucky　if　he　does　not　beat　you。　　Very　likely　he　does　beat　you；

too。　　Ask　him；　if　you　have　got　one；　whether　he　will　marry　you。　

He　will　laugh　in　your　face；　if　he　doesn't　spit　in　it　or　give　you

a　blowthough　maybe　he　is　not　worth　a　bad　halfpenny　himself。　

And　for　what　have　you　ruined　your　life；　if　you　come　to　think　of

it？　　For　the　coffee　they　give　you　to　drink　and　the　plentiful

meals？　　But　with　what　object　are　they　feeding　you　up？　　An　honest

girl　couldn't　swallow　the　food；　for　she　would　know　what　she　was

being　fed　for。　　You　are　in　debt　here；　and；　of　course；　you　will

always　be　in　debt；　and　you　will　go　on　in　debt　to　the　end；　till

the　visitors　here　begin　to　scorn　you。　　And　that　will　soon　happen；

don't　rely　upon　your　youthall　that　flies　by　express　train　here；

you　know。　　You　will　be　kicked　out。　　And　not　simply　kicked　out；

long　before　that　she'll　begin　nagging　at　you；　scolding　you；

abusing　you；　as　though　you　had　not　sacrificed　your　health　for

her；　had　not　thrown　away　your　youth　and　your　soul　for　her

benefit；　but　as　though　you　had　ruined　her；　beggared　her；　robbed

her。　　And　don't　expect　anyone　to　take　your　part：　the　others；　your

companions；　will　attack　you；　too；　win　her　favour；　for　all　are　in

slavery　here；　and　have　lost　all　conscience　and　pity　here　long

ago。　　They　have　become　utterly　vile；　and　nothing　on　earth　is

viler；　more　loathsome；　and　more　insulting　than　their　abuse。　　And

you　are　laying　down　everything　here；　unconditionally；　youth　and

health　and　beauty　and　hope；　and　at　twenty…two　you　will　look　like

a　woman　of　five…and…thirty；　and　you　will　be　lucky　if　you　are　not

diseased；　pray　to　God　for　that！　　No　doubt　you　are　thinking　now

that　you　have　a　gay　time　and　no　work　to　do！　　Yet　there　is　no　work

harder　or　more　dreadful　in　the　world　or　ever　has　been。　　One　would

think　that　the　heart　alone　would　be　worn　out　with　tears。　　And　you

won't　dare　to　say　a　word；　not　half　a　word　when　they　drive　you

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　t