first epilogue-第7章

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　　Countess　Mary　was　jealous　of　this　passion　of　her　husband's　and

regretted　that　she　could　not　share　it；　but　she　could　not　understand

the　joys　and　vexations　he　derived　from　that　world；　to　her　so　remote

and　alien。　She　could　not　understand　why　he　was　so　particularly

animated　and　happy　when；　after　getting　up　at　daybreak　and　spending　the

whole　morning　in　the　fields　or　on　the　threshing　floor；　he　returned

from　the　sowing　or　mowing　or　reaping　to　have　tea　with　her。　She　did　not

understand　why　he　spoke　with　such　admiration　and　delight　of　the

farming　of　the　thrifty　and　well…to…do　peasant　Matthew　Ermishin；　who

with　his　family　had　carted　corn　all　night；　or　of　the　fact　that　his

（Nicholas'）　sheaves　were　already　stacked　before　anyone　else　had　his

harvest　in。　She　did　not　understand　why　he　stepped　out　from　the

window　to　the　veranda　and　smiled　under　his　mustache　and　winked　so

joyfully；　when　warm　steady　rain　began　to　fall　on　the　dry　and　thirsty

shoots　of　the　young　oats；　or　why　when　the　wind　carried　away　a

threatening　cloud　during　the　hay　harvest　he　would　return　from　the

barn；　flushed；　sunburned；　and　perspiring；　with　a　smell　of　wormwood　and

gentian　in　his　hair　and；　gleefully　rubbing　his　hands；　would　say：

〃Well；　one　more　day　and　my　grain　and　the　peasants'　will　all　be　under

cover。〃

　　Still　less　did　she　understand　why　he；　kindhearted　and　always　ready

to　anticipate　her　wishes；　should　become　almost　desperate　when　she

brought　him　a　petition　from　some　peasant　men　or　women　who　had　appealed

to　her　to　be　excused　some　work；　why　he；　that　kind　Nicholas；　should

obstinately　refuse　her；　angrily　asking　her　not　to　interfere　in　what

was　not　her　business。　She　felt　he　had　a　world　apart；　which　he　loved

passionately　and　which　had　laws　she　had　not　fathomed。

　　Sometimes　when；　trying　to　understand　him；　she　spoke　of　the　good　work

he　was　doing　for　his　serfs；　he　would　be　vexed　and　reply：　〃Not　in　the

least；　it　never　entered　my　head　and　I　wouldn't　do　that　for　their　good！

That's　all　poetry　and　old　wives'　talk…　all　that　doing　good　to　one's

neighbor！　What　I　want　is　that　our　children　should　not　have　to　go

begging。　I　must　put　our　affairs　in　order　while　I　am　alive；　that's　all。

And　to　do　that；　order　and　strictness　are　essential。。。。　That's　all

about　it！〃　said　he；　clenching　his　vigorous　fist。　〃And　fairness；　of

course；〃　he　added；　〃for　if　the　peasant　is　naked　and　hungry　and　has

only　one　miserable　horse；　he　can　do　no　good　either　for　himself　or

for　me。〃

　　And　all　Nicholas　did　was　fruitful…　probably　just　because　he

refused　to　allow　himself　to　think　that　he　was　doing　good　to　others　for

virtue's　sake。　His　means　increased　rapidly；　serfs　from　neighboring

estates　came　to　beg　him　to　buy　them；　and　long　after　his　death　the

memory　of　his　administration　was　devoutly　preserved　among　the　serfs。

〃He　was　a　master。。。　the　peasants'　affairs　first　and　then　his　own。　Of

course　he　was　not　to　be　trifled　with　either…　in　a　word；　he　was　a

real　master！〃

EP1｜CH8

　　CHAPTER　VIII



　　One　matter　connected　with　his　management　sometimes　worried　Nicholas；

and　that　was　his　quick　temper　together　with　his　old　hussar　habit　of

making　free　use　of　his　fists。　At　first　he　saw　nothing　reprehensible　in

this；　but　in　the　second　year　of　his　marriage　his　view　of　that　form

of　punishment　suddenly　changed。

　　Once　in　summer　he　had　sent　for　the　village　elder　from　Bogucharovo；　a

man　who　had　succeeded　to　the　post　when　Dron　died　and　who　was　accused

of　dishonesty　and　various　irregularities。　Nicholas　went　out　into　the

porch　to　question　him；　and　immediately　after　the　elder　had　given　a　few

replies　the　sound　of　cries　and　blows　were　heard。　On　returning　to　lunch

Nicholas　went　up　to　his　wife；　who　sat　with　her　head　bent　low　over

her　embroidery　frame；　and　as　usual　began　to　tell　her　what　he　had

been　doing　that　morning。　Among　other　things　he　spoke　of　the

Bogucharovo　elder。　Countess　Mary　turned　red　and　then　pale；　but

continued　to　sit　with　head　bowed　and　lips　compressed　and　gave　her

husband　no　reply。

　　〃Such　an　insolent　scoundrel！〃　he　cried；　growing　hot　again　at　the

mere　recollection　of　him。　〃If　he　had　told　me　he　was　drunk　and　did

not　see。。。　But　what　is　the　matter　with　you；　Mary？〃　he　suddenly　asked。

　　Countess　Mary　raised　her　head　and　tried　to　speak；　but　hastily　looked

down　again　and　her　lips　puckered。

　　〃Why；　whatever　is　the　matter；　my　dearest？〃

　　The　looks　of　the　plain　Countess　Mary　always　improved　when　she　was　in

tears。　She　never　cried　from　pain　or　vexation；　but　always　from　sorrow

or　pity；　and　when　she　wept　her　radiant　eyes　acquired　an　irresistible

charm。

　　The　moment　Nicholas　took　her　hand　she　could　no　longer　restrain

herself　and　began　to　cry。

　　〃Nicholas；　I　saw　it。。。　he　was　to　blame；　but　why　do　you。。。　Nicholas！〃

and　she　covered　her　face　with　her　hands。

　　Nicholas　said　nothing。　He　flushed　crimson；　left　her　side；　and

paced　up　and　down　the　room。　He　understood　what　she　was　weeping

about；　but　could　not　in　his　heart　at　once　agree　with　her　that　what

he　had　regarded　from　childhood　as　quite　an　everyday　event　was　wrong。

〃Is　it　just　sentimentality；　old　wives'　tales；　or　is　she　right？〃　he

asked　himself。　Before　he　had　solved　that　point　he　glanced　again　at　her

face　filled　with　love　and　pain；　and　he　suddenly　realized　that　she

was　right　and　that　he　had　long　been　sinning　against　himself。

　　〃Mary；〃　he　said　softly；　going　up　to　her；　〃it　will　never　happen

again；　I　give　you　my　word。　Never；〃　he　repeated　in　a　trembling　voice

like　a　boy　asking　for　forgiveness。

　　The　tears　flowed　faster　still　from　the　countess'　eyes。　She　took

his　hand　and　kissed　it。

　　〃Nicholas；　when　when　did　you　break　your　cameo？〃　she　asked　to

change　the　subject；　looking　at　his　finger　on　which　he　wore　a　ring　with

a　cameo　of　Laocoon's　head。

　　〃Today…　it　was　the　same　affair。　Oh；　Mary；　don't　remind　me　of　it！〃

and　again　he　flushed。　〃I　give　you　my　word　of　honor　it　shan't　occur

again；　and　let　this　always　be　a　reminder　to　me；〃　and　he　pointed　to　the

broken　ring。

　　After　that；　when　in　discussions　with　his　village　elders　or

stewards　the　blood　rushed　to　his　face　and　his　fists　began　to　clench；

Nicholas　would　turn　the　broken　ring　on　his　finger　and　would　drop　his

eyes　before　the　man　who　was　making　him　angry。　But　he　did　forget

himself　once　or　twice　within　a　twelvemonth；　and　then　he　would　go　and

confess　to　his　wife；　and　would　again　promise　that　this　should　really

be　the　very　last　time。

　　〃Mary；　you　must　despise　me！〃　he　would　say。　〃I　deserve　it。〃

　　〃You　should　go；　go　away　at　once；　if　you　don't　feel　strong　enough

to　control　yourself；〃　she　would　reply　sadly；　trying　to　comfort　her

husband。

　　Among　the　gentry　of　the　province　Nicholas　was　respected　but　not

liked。　He　did　not　concern　himself　with　the　interests　of　his　own　class；

and　consequently　some　thought　him　proud　and　others　thought　him　stupid。

The　whole　summer；　from　spring　sowing　to　harvest；　he　was　busy　with

the　work　on　his　farm。　In　autumn　he　gave　himself　up　to　hunting　with　the

same　business　like　seriousness…　leaving　home　for　a　month；　or　even　two；

with　his　hunt。　In　winter　he　visited　his　other　villages　or　spent　his

time　reading。　The　books　he　read　were　chiefly　historical；　and　on

these　he　spent　a　certain　sum　every　year。　He　was　collecting；　as　he

said；　a　serious　library；　and　he　made　it　a　rule　to　read　through　all　the

books　he　bought。　He　would　sit　in　his　study　with　a　grave　air；

reading…　a　task　he　first　imposed　upon　himself　as　a　duty；　but　which

afterwards　became　a　habit　affording　him　a　special　kind　of　pleasure　and

a　consciousness　of　being　occupied　with　serious　matters。　In　winter；

except　for　business　excursions；　he　spent　most　of　his　time　at　home

making　himself　one　with　his　family　and　entering　into　all　the　details

of　his　children's　relations　with　their　mother。　The　harmony　between　him

and　his　wife　grew　closer　and　closer　and　he　daily　discovered　fresh

spiritual　treasures　in　her。

　　From　the　time　of　his　marriage　Sonya　had　lived　in　his　house。　Before

that；　Nicholas　had　told　his　wife　all　that　had　passed　between　himself

and　S