01-the kreutzer sonata-第15章
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provoking beauty that stirs men。 She was in all the brilliancy
of the wife of thirty years; who conceives no children; eats
heartily; and is excited。 The very sight of her was enough to
frighten one。 She was like a spirited carriage…horse that has
long been idle; and suddenly finds itself without a bridle。 As
for my wife; she had no bridle; as for that matter; ninety…nine
hundredths of our women have none。〃
CHAPTER XIX。
Posdnicheff's face had become transformed; his eyes were
pitiable; their expression seemed strange; like that of another
being than himself; his moustache and beard turned up toward the
top of his face; his nose was diminished; and his mouth enlarged;
immense; frightful。
〃Yes;〃 he resumed 〃she had grown stouter since ceasing to
conceive; and her anxieties about her children began to
disappear。 Not even to disappear。 One would have said that she
was waking from a long intoxication; that on coming to herself
she had perceived the entire universe with its joys; a whole
world in which she had not learned to live; and which she did not
understand。
〃'If only this world shall not vanish! When time is past; when
old age comes; one cannot recover it。' Thus; I believe; she
thought; or rather felt。 Moreover; she could neither think nor
feel otherwise。 She had been brought up in this idea that there
is in the world but one thing worthy of attention;love。 In
marrying; she had known something of this love; but very far from
everything that she had understood as promised her; everything
that she expected。 How many disillusions! How much suffering!
And an unexpected torture;the children! This torture had told
upon her; and then; thanks to the obliging doctor; she had
learned that it is possible to avoid having children。 That had
made her glad。 She had tried; and she was now revived for the
only thing that she knew;for love。 But love with a husband
polluted by jealousy and ill…nature was no longer her ideal。 She
began to think of some other tenderness; at least; that is what I
thought。 She looked about her as if expecting some event or some
being。 I noticed it; and I could not help being anxious。
〃Always; now; it happened that; in talking with me through a
third party (that is; in talking with others; but with the
intention that I should hear); she boldly expressed;not
thinking that an hour before she had said the opposite;half
joking; half seriously; this idea that maternal anxieties are a
delusion; that it is not worth while to sacrifice one's life to
children。 When one is young; it is necessary to enjoy life。 So
she occupied herself less with the children; not with the same
intensity as formerly; and paid more and more attention to
herself; to her face;although she concealed it;to her
pleasures; and even to her perfection from the worldly point of
view。 She began to devote herself passionately to the piano;
which had formerly stood forgotten in the corner。 There; at the
piano; began the adventure。
〃The MAN appeared。〃
Posdnicheff seemed embarrassed; and twice again there escaped him
that nasal sound of which I spoke above。 I thought that it gave
him pain to refer to the MAN; and to remember him。 He made an
effort; as if to break down the obstacle that embarrassed him;
and continued with determination。
〃He was a bad man in my eyes; and not because he has played such
an important role in my life; but because he was really such。
For the rest; from the fact that he was bad; we must conclude
that he was irresponsible。 He was a musician; a violinist。 Not
a professional musician; but half man of the world; half artist。
His father; a country proprietor; was a neighbor of my father's。
The father had become ruined; and the children; three boys; were
all sent away。 Our man; the youngest; was sent to his godmother
at Paris。 There they placed him in the Conservatory; for he
showed a taste for music。 He came out a violinist; and played in
concerts。〃
On the point of speaking evil of the other; Posdnicheff checked
himself; stopped; and said suddenly:
〃In truth; I know not how he lived。 I only know that that year
he came to Russia; and came to see me。 Moist eyes of almond
shape; smiling red lips; a little moustache well waxed; hair
brushed in the latest fashion; a vulgarly pretty face;what the
women call 'not bad;'feebly built physically; but with no
deformity; with hips as broad as a woman's; correct; and
insinuating himself into the familiarity of people as far as
possible; but having that keen sense that quickly detects a false
step and retires in reason;a man; in short; observant of the
external rules of dignity; with that special Parisianism that is
revealed in buttoned boots; a gaudy cravat; and that something
which foreigners pick up in Paris; and which; in its peculiarity
and novelty; always has an influence on our women。 In his
manners an external and artificial gayety; a way; you know; of
referring to everything by hints; by unfinished fragments; as if
everything that one says you knew already; recalled it; and could
supply the omissions。 Well; he; with his music; was the cause of
all。
〃At the trial the affair was so represented that everything
seemed attributable to jealousy。 It is false;that is; not
quite false; but there was something else。 The verdict was
rendered that I was a deceived husband; that I had killed in
defence of my sullied honor (that is the way they put it in their
language); and thus I was acquitted。 I tried to explain the
affair from my own point of view; but they concluded that I
simply wanted to rehabilitate the memory of my wife。 Her
relations with the musician; whatever they may have been; are now
of no importance to me or to her。 The important part is what I
have told you。 The whole tragedy was due to the fact that this
man came into our house at a time when an immense abyss had
already been dug between us; that frightful tension of mutual
hatred; in which the slightest motive sufficed to precipitate the
crisis。 Our quarrels in the last days were something terrible;
and the more astonishing because they were followed by a brutal
passion extremely strained。 If it had not been he; some other
would have come。 If the pretext had not been jealousy; I should
have discovered another。 I insist upon this point;that all
husbands who live the married life that I lived must either
resort to outside debauchery; or separate from their wives; or
kill themselves; or kill their wives as I did。 If there is any
one in my case to whom this does not happen; he is a very rare
exception; for; before ending as I ended; I was several times on
the point of suicide; and my wife made several attempts to poison
herself。
CHAPTER XX。
〃In order that you may understand me; I must tell you how this
happened。 We were living along; and all seemed well。 Suddenly
we began to talk of the children's education。 I do not remember
what words either of us uttered; but a discussion began;
reproaches; leaps from one subject to another。 'Yes; I know it。
It has been so for a long time。' 。 。 。 'You said that。' 。 。 。
'No; I did not say that。' 。 。 。 'Then I lie?' etc。
〃And I felt that the frightful crisis was approaching when I
should desire to kill her or else myself。 I knew that it was
approaching; I was afraid of it as of fire; I wanted to restrain
myself。 But rage took possession of my whole being。 My wife
found herself in the same condition; perhaps worse。 She knew
that she intentionally distorted each of my words; and each of
her words was saturated with venom。 All that was dear to me she
disparaged and profaned。 The farther the quarrel went; the more
furious it became。 I cried; 'Be silent;' or something like that。
She bounded out of the room and ran toward the children。 I tried
to hold her back to finish my insults。 I grasped her by the a