father sergius-第4部分

快捷操作: 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! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！



hermitage；　a　merry　company　of　rich　people；　men　and　women　from　a

neighbouring　town；　made　up　a　troyka…party；　after　a　meal　of

carnival…pancakes　and　wine。　　The　company　consisted　of　two

lawyers；　a　wealthy　landowner；　an　officer；　and　four　ladies。　　One

lady　was　the　officer's　wife；　another　the　wife　of　the　landowner；

the　third　his　sistera　young　girland　the　fourth　a　divorcee；

beautiful；　rich；　and　eccentric；　who　amazed　and　shocked　the　town

by　her　escapades。



The　weather　was　excellent　and　the　snow…covered　road　smooth　as　a

floor。　　They　drove　some　seven　miles　out　of　town；　and　then　stopped

and　consulted　as　to　whether　they　should　turn　back　or　drive

farther。



'But　where　does　this　road　lead　to？'　asked　Makovkina；　the

beautiful　divorcee。



'To　Tambov；　eight　miles　from　here；'　replied　one　of　the　lawyers；

who　was　having　a　flirtation　with　her。



'And　then　where？'



'Then　on　to　L；　past　the　Monastery。'



'Where　that　Father　Sergius　lives？'



'Yes。'



'Kasatsky；　the　handsome　hermit？'



'Yes。'



'Mesdames　et　messieurs；　let　us　drive　on　and　see　Kasatsky！　　We　can

stop　at　Tambov　and　have　something　to　eat。'



'But　we　shouldn't　get　home　to…night！'



'Never　mind；　we　will　stay　at　Kasatsky's。'



'Well；　there　is　a　very　good　hostelry　at　the　Monastery。　I　stayed

there　when　I　was　defending　Makhin。'



'No；　I　shall　spend　the　night　at　Kasatsky's！'



'Impossible！　　Even　your　omnipotence　could　not　accomplish　that！'



'Impossible？　　Will　you　bet？'



'All　right！　　If　you　spend　the　night　with　him；　the　stake　shall　be

whatever　you　like。'



'A　DISCRETION！'



'But　on　your　side　too！'



'Yes；　of　course。　　Let　us　drive　on。'



Vodka　was　handed　to　the　drivers；　and　the　party　got　out　a　box　of

pies；　wine；　and　sweets　for　themselves。　　The　ladies　wrapped　up　in

their　white　dogskins。　　The　drivers　disputed　as　to　whose　troyka

should　go　ahead；　and　the　youngest；　seating　himself　sideways　with

a　dashing　air；　swung　his　long　knout　and　shouted　to　the　horses。　

The　troyka…bells　tinkled　and　the　sledge…runners　squeaked　over　the

snow。



The　sledge　swayed　hardly　at　all。　　The　shaft…horse；　with　his

tightly　bound　tail　under　his　decorated　breechband；　galloped

smoothly　and　briskly；　the　smooth　road　seemed　to　run　rapidly

backwards；　while　the　driver　dashingly　shook　the　reins。　　One　of

the　lawyers　and　the　officer　sitting　opposite　talked　nonsense　to

Makovkina's　neighbour；　but　Makovkina　herself　sat　motionless　and

in　thought；　tightly　wrapped　in　her　fur。　　'Always　the　same　and

always　nasty！　The　same　red　shiny　faces　smelling　of　wine　and

cigars！　The　same　talk；　the　same　thoughts；　and　always　about　the

same　things！　　And　they　are　all　satisfied　and　confident　that　it

should　be　so；　and　will　go　on　living　like　that　till　they　die。　　But

I　can't。　　It　bores　me。　　I　want　something　that　would　upset　it　all

and　turn　it　upside　down。　　Suppose　it　happened　to　us　as　to　those

peopleat　Saratov　was　it？who　kept　on　driving　and　froze　to

death。　。　。　。　　What　would　our　people　do？　　How　would　they　behave？　

Basely；　for　certain。　　Each　for　himself。　　And　I　too　should　act

badly。　　But　I　at　any　rate　have　beauty。　　They　all　know　it。　　And

how　about　that　monk？　Is　it　possible　that　he　has　become

indifferent　to　it？　　No！　That　is　the　one　thing　they　all　care

forlike　that　cadet　last　autumn。　　What　a　fool　he　was！'



'Ivan　Nikolaevich！'　she　said　aloud。



'What　are　your　commands？'



'How　old　is　he？'



'Who？'



'Kasatsky。'



'Over　forty；　I　should　think。'



'And　does　he　receive　all　visitors？'



'Yes；　everybody；　but　not　always。'



'Cover　up　my　feet。　　Not　like　thathow　clumsy　you　are！　No！　　More；

morelike　that！　　But　you　need　not　squeeze　them！'



So　they　came　to　the　forest　where　the　cell　was。



Makovkina　got　out　of　the　sledge；　and　told　them　to　drive　on。　　They

tried　to　dissuade　her；　but　she　grew　irritable　and　ordered　them　to

go　on。



When　the　sledges　had　gone　she　went　up　the　path　in　her　white

dogskin　coat。　　The　lawyer　got　out　and　stopped　to　watch　her。



It　was　Father　Sergius's　sixth　year　as　a　recluse；　and　he　was　now

forty…nine。　　His　life　in　solitude　was　hardnot　on　account　of　the

fasts　and　the　prayers　（they　were　no　hardship　to　him）　but　on

account　of　an　inner　conflict　he　had　not　at　all　anticipated。　　The

sources　of　that　conflict　were　two：　doubts；　and　the　lust　of　the

flesh。　　And　these　two　enemies　always　appeared　together。　　It

seemed　to　him　that　they　were　two　foes；　but　in　reality　they　were

one　and　the　same。　　As　soon　as　doubt　was　gone　so　was　the　lustful

desire。　　But　thinking　them　to　be　two　different　fiends　he　fought

them　separately。



'O　my　God；　my　God！'　thought　he。　　'Why　dost　thou　not　grant　me

faith？　　There　is　lust；　of　course：　even　the　saints　had　to　fight

thatSaint　Anthony　and　others。　　But　they　had　faith；　while　I　have

moments；　hours；　and　days；　when　it　is　absent。　　Why　does　the　whole

world；　with　all　its　delights；　exist　if　it　is　sinful　and　must　be

renounced？　　Why　hast　Thou　created　this　temptation？　　Temptation？　

Is　it　not　rather　a　temptation　that　I　wish　to　abandon　all　the　joys

of　earth　and　prepare　something　for　myself　there　where　perhaps

there　is　nothing？'　　And　he　became　horrified　and　filled　with

disgust　at　himself。　　'Vile　creature！　　And　it　is　you　who　wish　to

become　a　saint！'　he　upbraided　himself；　and　he　began　to　pray。　　But

as　soon　as　he　started　to　pray　he　saw　himself　vividly　as　he　had

been　at　the　Monastery；　in　a　majestic　post　in　biretta　and　mantle；

and　he　shook　his　head。　　'No；　that　is　not　right。　　It　is　deception。　

I　may　deceive　others；　but　not　myself　or　God。　　I　am　not　a　majestic

man；　but　a　pitiable　and　ridiculous　one！'　　And　he　threw　back　the

folds　of　his　cassock　and　smiled　as　he　looked　at　his　thin　legs　in

their　underclothing。



Then　he　dropped　the　folds　of　the　cassock　again　and　began　reading

the　prayers；　making　the　sign　of　the　cross　and　prostrating

himself。　　'Can　it　be　that　this　couch　will　be　my　bier？'　he　read。　

And　it　seemed　as　if　a　devil　whispered　to　him：　'A　solitary　couch

is　itself　a　bier。　　Falsehood！'　　And　in　imagination　he　saw　the

shoulders　of　a　widow　with　whom　he　had　lived。　　He　shook　himself；

and　went　on　reading。　Having　read　the　precepts　he　took　up　the

Gospels；　opened　the　book；　and　happened　on　a　passage　he　often

repeated　and　knew　by　heart：　'Lord；　I　believe。　　Help　thou　my

unbelief！'and　he　put　away　all　the　doubts　that　had　arisen。　As

one　replaces　an　object　of　insecure　equilibrium；　so　he　carefully

replaced　his　belief　on　its　shaky　pedestal　and　carefully　stepped

back　from　it　so　as　not　to　shake　or　upset　it。　　The　blinkers　were

adjusted　again　and　he　felt　tranquillized；　and　repeating　his

childhood's　prayer：　'Lord；　receive　me；　receive　me！'　he　felt　not

merely　at　ease；　but　thrilled　and　joyful。　　He　crossed　himself　and

lay　down　on　the　bedding　on　his　narrow　bench；　tucking　his　summer

cassock　under　his　head。　　He　fell　asleep　at　once；　and　in　his　light

slumber　he　seemed　to　hear　the　tinkling　of　sledge　bells。　　He　did

not　know　whether　he　was　dreaming　or　awake；　but　a　knock　at　the

door　aroused　him。　　He　sat　up；　distrusting　his　senses；　but　the

knock　was　repeated。　　Yes；　it　was　a　knock　close　at　hand；　at　his

door；　and　with　it　the　sound　of　a　woman's　voice。



'My　God！　　Can　it　be　true；　as　I　have　read　in　the　Lives　of　the

Saints；　that　the　devil　takes　on　the　form　of　a　woman？　　Yesit　is

a　woman's　voice。　　And　a　tender；　timid；　pleasant　voice。　　Phui！'　

And　he　spat　to　exorcise　the　devil。　　'No；　it　was　only　my

imagination；'　he　assured　himself；　and　he　went　to　the　corner　where

his　lectern　stood；　falling　on　his　knees　in　the　regular　and

habitual　manner　which　of　itself　gave　him　consolation　and

satisfaction。　　He　sank　down；　his　hair　hanging　over　his　face；　and

pressed　his　head；　already　going　bald　in　front；　to　the　cold　damp

strip　of　drugget　on　the　draughty　floor。　　He　read　the　psalm　old

Father　Pimon　had　told　him　warded　off　temptation。　　He　easily

raised　his　light　and　emaciated　body　on　his　strong　sinewy　legs　and

tried　to　continue　saying　his　prayers；　but　instead　of　doing　so　he

involuntarily　strained　his　hearing。　　He　wished　to　hear　more。　　All

was　quiet。　　From　the　corner　of　the　roof　regular　drops　continued

to　fall　into　the　tub　below。　　Outside　was　a　mist　and　fog　eating

into　the　snow　that　lay　on　the　ground。　It　was　still；　very　still。　

And　suddenly　there　was　a　rustling　at　the　window　and　a　voicethat

same　tender；　timid　voice；　which　could　only　belong　to　an

attractive　womansaid：



'Let　me　in；　for　Christ's　sake！'



It　seemed　as　though　his　blood　had　all　rushed　to　his　heart　and

settled　there。　　He　could　hardly　breathe。　　'Let　God　arise　and　let

his　enemies　be　scattered　。　。　。'



'But　I　am　not　a　devil！'　　It　was　obvious　that　the　lips　that

uttered　this　were　smiling。　　'I　am　not　a　devil；　but　only　a　sinful

woman　who　has　lost　her　way；　not　figuratively　but　literally！'　　She

laughed。　　'I　am　frozen　and　beg　for　shelter。'



He　pressed　his　face　to　the　window；　but　the　little　icon…lamp　was

reflected　by　it　and　shone　on　the　whole　pane。　　He　put　his　hands　to

both　sides　of　his　face　and　peered　between　them。　　Fog；　mist；　a

tree；　andjust　opposite　himshe　herself。　　Yes；　there；　a　few

inches　from　him；　was　the　sweet；　kindly　frightened　face　of　a　woman

in　a　cap　and　a　coat　of　long　white　fur；　leaning　towards　him。　

Their　eyes　met　with　instant　recognition：　not　that　they　had　ever

known　one　another；　they　had　never　met　before；　but　by　the　look

they　exchanged　theyand　he　particularlyfelt　that　they　knew　and

understood　one　another。　　After　that　glance　to　imagine　her　to　be　a

devil　and　not　a　simple；　kindly；　sweet；　timid　woman；　was

impossible。



'Who　are　you？　　Why　have　you　come？'　he　asked。



'Do　please　open　the　door！'　she　replied；　with　capricious

authority。　　'I　am　frozen。　　I　tell　you　I　have　lost　my　way。'



'But　I　am　a　monka　hermit。'



'Oh；　do　please　open　the　dooror　do　you　wish　me　to　freeze　under

your　window　while　you　say　your　prayers？'



'But　how　have　you　。　。　。'



'I　shan't　eat　you。　　For　God's　sake　let　me　in！　　I