自译 契诃夫短篇小说 艳遇

AT A SUMMER VILLA 艳遇

原作契诃夫 Translated by Constance Garnett 1886

“I LOVE YOU. You are my life, my happiness — everything to me! Forgive the avowal, but I have not the strength to suffer and be silent. I ask not for love in return, but for sympathy. Be at the old arbour at eight o’clock this evening.... To sign my name is unnecessary I think, but do not be uneasy at my being anonymous. I am young, nice-looking... what more do you want?”

“嘘，不要问我是谁。有句话我藏了好久，思来想去，我只想对你说：我爱你。你是我的一切，你是我的唯一。我不奢望你的爱慕，只求你可怜我一片痴心。今晚八点，我在小亭子等你……我年轻，漂亮，哪一点你不满意？”

When Pavel Ivanitch Vyhodtsev, a practical married man who was spending his holidays at a summer villa, read this letter, he shrugged his shoulders and scratched his forehead in perplexity.

这会儿正值夏天，范伊万读完这封信耸了耸肩，困惑地挠了挠头。

“What devilry is this?” he thought. “I’m a married man, and to send me such a queer... silly letter! Who wrote it?”

“什么意思？”他想道，“我都是结了婚的人了，谁还给我写这种东西…写情书！这谁写的？”

Pavel Ivanitch turned the letter over and over before his eyes, read it through again, and spat with disgust.

范伊万把信翻来覆去检查了一下，又从头到尾读了一遍，反感地啐了口唾沫。

“ ‘I love you’ “... he said jeeringly. “A nice boy she has pitched on! So I’m to run off to meet you in the arbour!... I got over all such romances and fleurs d’amour years ago, my girl.... Hm! She must be some reckless, immoral creature.... Well, these women are a set! What a whirligig — God forgive us! — she must be to write a letter like that to a stranger, and a married man, too! It’s real demoralisation!”

“嚯，还‘我爱你’……”他不屑道，“拿我当什么人了！还八点在小亭子见！嘁，小姑娘，你也不打听打听，我多少年前就不信这套了。真不害臊！这东西肯定不是规矩人写的。太不像话了，一个姑娘家怎么这么没羞没臊的！”

In the course of his eight years of married life Pavel Ivanitch had completely got over all sentimental feeling, and he had received no letters from ladies except letters of congratulation, and so, although he tried to carry it off with disdain, the letter quoted above greatly intrigued and agitated him.

八年的婚姻生活已经把范先生磨成了木头人，就算有女人给他写信也一定是恭贺新春。此时面对着这封情书，范先生有心不去想它，却不由得兴奋异常。

An hour after receiving it, he was lying on his sofa, thinking:

收着信一个小时过后，他倒在沙发上，思索道：

“Of course I am not a silly boy, and I am not going to rush off to this idiotic rendezvous; but yet it would be interesting to know who wrote it! Hm.... It is certainly a woman’s writing.... The letter is written with genuine feeling, and so it can hardly be a joke.... Most likely it’s some neurotic girl, or perhaps a widow... widows are frivolous and eccentric as a rule. Hm.... Who could it be?”

“我又不傻，去肯定是没必要去的，可这封信是谁写的呢？依我看…肯定是哪个女的写的…写得还挺真，不太像是玩笑…可能是哪个小姑娘吧，要么就是寡妇——对，寡妇向来不计较这些。唉呀…会是谁呢？”

What made it the more difficult to decide the question was that Pavel Ivanitch had not one feminine acquaintance among all the summer visitors, except his wife.

最费解的是，和范先生熟识的女人只有他老婆。

“It is queer . . .” he mused. “ ‘I love you!’. . . When did she manage to fall in love? Amazing woman! To fall in love like this, apropos of nothing, without making any acquaintance and finding out what sort of man I am.... She must be extremely young and romantic if she is capable of falling in love after two or three looks at me.... But... who is she?”

“奇了怪了…”他琢磨道，“‘我爱你’…她怎么就爱我了呢？女人哪，真摸不透！压根没好好了解过我，她怎么就爱上我了呢…这肯定是个小姑娘，还是特别单纯那种，光是看了几眼就迷上我了…可问题是…她是谁呢？”

Pavel Ivanitch suddenly recalled that when he had been walking among the summer villas the day before, and the day before that, he had several times been met by a fair young lady with a light blue hat and a turn-up nose. The fair charmer had kept looking at him, and when he sat down on a seat she had sat down beside him....

范伊万突然想到前两天出门的时候常看见一个姑娘，头顶着天蓝色的帽子，朝天鼻，年纪轻轻，长得那叫一个漂亮。这姑娘老是看他，还特意和他挨着坐……

“Can it be she?” Vyhodtsev wondered. “It can’t be! Could a delicate ephemeral creature like that fall in love with a worn-out old eel like me? No, it’s impossible!”

“她？”范先生心想道，“不会吧！她能看上我这个糟老头子？不不不，不可能！”

At dinner Pavel Ivanitch looked blankly at his wife while he meditated:

饭桌上，范先生直盯着他老婆走神：

“She writes that she is young and nice-looking.... So she’s not old.... Hm.... To tell the truth, honestly I am not so old and plain that no one could fall in love with me. My wife loves me! Besides, love is blind, we all know. . . .”

“写信的说自己年轻漂亮…这么说年纪肯定不大…哎呀，也难说，其实咱也没那么老，再怎么说也有点女人缘。我老婆不就挺中意我的吗！再者说情令智昏哪，说不定人家还真就……”

“What are you thinking about?” his wife asked him.

“想什么呢？”范太太问道。

“Oh. . . my head aches a little. . .” Pavel Ivanitch said, quite untruly.

“哦，我，我头疼，头疼…哎哟哟……”范伊万搪塞道。

He made up his mind that it was stupid to pay attention to such a nonsensical thing as a love-letter, and laughed at it and at its authoress, but — alas! — powerful is the “dacha”enemy of mankind! After dinner, Pavel Ivanitch lay down on his bed, and instead of going to sleep, reflected:

得，哪有这种好事，范先生一咬牙，打定主意不想情书的事了，可人一闲着哪能不胡思乱想呢！吃完饭，范先生躺在床上，脑子里又在琢磨：

“But there, I daresay she is expecting me to come! What a silly! I can just imagine what a nervous fidget she’ll be in and how her tournure will quiver when she does not find me in the arbour! I shan’t go, though.... Bother her!”

“不行，万一她等我去呢！这怎么成？要是她去了发现我不在，这姑娘得多难过啊！不，不能去，去了多不好意思！”

But, I repeat, powerful is the enemy of mankind.

照他这个琢磨法，难怪说麻烦都是自找的呢。

“Though I might, perhaps, just out of curiosity. . .” he was musing, half an hour later. “I might go and look from a distance what sort of a creature she is.... It would be interesting to have a look at her! It would be fun, and that’s all! After all, why shouldn’t I have a little fun since such a chance has turned up?”

“唉呀，不去我心里头老惦记着……”过了半个钟头他还在琢磨，“要不我过去远远地看一眼吧…反正就是瞅瞅长什么样呗，有什么大不了的！咱行得正坐得端，去看看怎么了？”

Pavel Ivanitch got up from his bed and began dressing. “What are you getting yourself up so smartly for?” his wife asked, noticing that he was putting on a clean shirt and a fashionable tie.

范先生爬起床，穿起了衣服。“这是去见谁啊，打扮得这么漂亮？”范太太看见他身上的新衣裳，问道。

“Oh, nothing.... I must have a walk.... My head aches.... Hm.”

“没事，我，我头有点疼…出去走走。”

Pavel Ivanitch dressed in his best, and waiting till eight o’clock, went out of the house. When the figures of gaily dressed summer visitors of both sexes began passing before his eyes against the bright green background, his heart throbbed.

范先生打扮得神气十足，等到八点准时出了门。一路上看着衣着光鲜的男女来来往往，他的心止不住地颤。

“Which of them is it? . . .” he wondered, advancing irresolutely. “Come, what am I afraid of? Why, I am not going to the rendezvous! What... a fool! Go forward boldly! And what if I go into the arbour? Well, well... there is no reason I should.”

“哪一个啊？”他边想边踌躇地走着，“停，打住。怕什么？咱又不是和人家约会！别怕…走！抬头挺胸大步走！要不进亭子里看看？这…算了吧，进去干嘛。”

Pavel Ivanitch’s heart beat still more violently.... Involuntarily, with no desire to do so, he suddenly pictured to himself the half-darkness of the arbour.... A graceful fair girl with a little blue hat and a turn-up nose rose before his imagination. He saw her, abashed by her love and trembling all over, timidly approach him, breathing excitedly, and... suddenly clasping him in her arms.

范伊万的心跳得更厉害了…他忽忽悠悠想象出一幅画面：自己正坐在昏暗的亭子里，那个戴蓝帽子，长着朝天鼻的美女红着脸来到他面前，浑身颤抖、气喘连连，迈着小碎步慢慢向他靠近，刹那间…她一下子投入了他的怀抱。

“If I weren’t married it would be all right . . .” he mused, driving sinful ideas out of his head. “Though... for once in my life, it would do no harm to have the experience, or else one will die without knowing what.... And my wife, what will it matter to her? Thank God, for eight years I’ve never moved one step away from her.... Eight years of irreproachable duty! Enough of her.... It’s positively vexatious.... I’m ready to go to spite her!”

“我要是还单着就好了……”范先生动起了歪心思，“人活一世什么事总得经历经历吧，不然就这么死了多可惜…有老婆，有老婆怎么了？一说我就来气，我在她身边规矩了八年，可把我憋屈坏了！去她的吧…管她干嘛！”

Trembling all over and holding his breath, Pavel Ivanitch went up to the arbour, wreathed with ivy and wild vine, and peeped into it.... A smell of dampness and mildew reached him....

范先生激动得直哆嗦，屏着气来到了藤蔓环绕的亭子前，往里瞅了一眼…一股湿漉漉的霉味直扑鼻子……

“I believe there’s nobody . . .” he thought, going into the arbour, and at once saw a human silhouette in the corner.

“估计没人……”他心想着进了亭子，立马看见角落里有个人影。

The silhouette was that of a man.... Looking more closely, Pavel Ivanitch recognised his wife’s brother, Mitya, a student, who was staying with them at the villa.

还是个男的……定睛一瞧，范伊万发现是自己小舅子，锁儿，这小子还在念书，这一阵跟着他们两口子一块住。

“Oh, it’s you . . .” he growled discontentedly, as he took off his hat and sat down.

“哟，是你啊……”他闷闷道，顺手摘掉帽子坐下了。

“Yes, it’s I”... answered Mitya.

“是我……”锁儿答道。

Two minutes passed in silence.

二人沉默了一会儿。

“Excuse me, Pavel Ivanitch,” began Mitya: “but might I ask you to leave me alone??... I am thinking over the dissertation for my degree and. . . and the presence of anybody else prevents my thinking.”

“我说，姐夫，”锁儿开口道，“您能不能让我一个人静静？我在构思论文，您在这儿打扰我思路。”

“You had better go somewhere in a dark avenue. . .” Pavel Ivanitch observed mildly. “It’s easier to think in the open air, and, besides,... er... I should like to have a little sleep here on this seat. . . It’s not so hot here. . . .”

“你另找个清净地方不就得了。”范伊万回道，“出去换换空气多好，再者说，我…天太热，我想在这儿睡会儿……”

“You want to sleep, but it’s a question of my dissertation . . .” Mitya grumbled. “The dissertation is more important.”

“您哪儿睡不是睡，我还得想论文呢……”锁儿抱怨道，“论文不比您睡觉重要。”

Again there was a silence. Pavel Ivanitch, who had given the rein to his imagination and was continually hearing footsteps, suddenly leaped up and said in a plaintive voice:

二人又不说话了。范伊万满脑子白日梦，总觉得外头有脚步声，只见他一跃而起，厉声道：

“Come, I beg you, Mitya! You are younger and ought to consider me.... I am unwell and... I need sleep.... Go away!”

“给我个面子，你就走吧，锁儿！你这年轻人怎么一点规矩都不懂…我中暑了，得在这儿睡一觉，你让让能怎么了！”

“That’s egoism.... Why must you be here and not I? I won’t go as a matter of principle.”

“凭什么？我凭什么非得给你腾地儿？我又不欠你的。”

“Come, I ask you to! Suppose I am an egoist, a despot and a fool... but I ask you to go! For once in my life I ask you a favour! Show some consideration!”

“行个方便吧！我说错话你多原谅，算姐夫求求你，你就走吧！”

Mitya shook his head.

锁儿摇了摇头。

“What a beast! . . .” thought Pavel Ivanitch. “That can’t be a rendezvous with him here! It’s impossible with him here!”

“死小子！”范伊万心想道，“难不成是约的是他？不会吧！”

“I say, Mitya,” he said, “I ask you for the last time.... Show that you are a sensible, humane, and cultivated man!”

“锁儿，”他说道，“我最后求你一次…你要是识相就赶紧出去！”

“I don’t know why you keep on so!”... said Mitya, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve said I won’t go, and I won’t. I shall stay here as a matter of principle. . . .”

“我说你差不多了吧！”锁儿烦躁道，“都说了我不走，我也不打算走。反正我就赖这儿了……”

At that moment a woman’s face with a turn-up nose peeped into the arbour....

就在这时，一位长着朝天鼻的姑娘朝亭子里看了一眼……

Seeing Mitya and Pavel Ivanitch, it frowned and vanished.

一瞅见锁儿和范伊万，她皱了皱眉，不见了。

“She is gone!” thought Pavel Ivanitch, looking angrily at Mitya. “She saw that blackguard and fled! It’s all spoilt!”

“完了！”范伊万气冲冲地瞪着锁儿，“都怨这个瞎捣乱的！这事算吹了！”

After waiting a little longer, he got up, put on his hat and said:

又等了一会儿，范伊万站起身，戴上帽子，说道：

“You’re a beast, a low brute and a blackguard! Yes! A beast! It’s mean... and silly! Everything is at an end between us!”

“给你脸了！扫把星！你个王八蛋！看你干的好事！本来好好的都让你搅和了！”

“Delighted to hear it!” muttered Mitya, also getting up and putting on his hat. “Let me tell you that by being here just now you’ve played me such a dirty trick that I’ll never forgive you as long as I live.”

“你不用叽歪！”锁儿嘟囔着也站了起来，戴好帽子说道，“今晚这事我记着了，我跟你没完！”

Pavel Ivanitch went out of the arbour, and beside himself with rage, strode rapidly to his villa. Even the sight of the table laid for supper did not soothe him.

范伊万迈着大步气呼呼地回了家。连一桌子好菜也没能帮他消气。

“Once in a lifetime such a chance has turned up,” he thought in agitation; “and then it’s been prevented! Now she is offended... crushed!”

“一辈子也碰不到的机会啊，”他愤恨地想道，“就这么黄了！完了，人家肯定不乐意了！”

At supper Pavel Ivanitch and Mitya kept their eyes on their plates and maintained a sullen silence.... They were hating each other from the bottom of their hearts.

晚饭时分，范伊万和锁儿只顾着吃，一句话也不说……两人都恨得牙痒痒。

“What are you smiling at?” asked Pavel Ivanitch, pouncing on his wife. “It’s only silly fools who laugh for nothing!”

“你笑什么？”范伊万问他太太，“有什么好笑的！”

His wife looked at her husband’s angry face, and went off into a peal of laughter.

范太太看了看他一脸的火气，噗嗤一声笑得差点把饭喷出来。

“What was that letter you got this morning?” she asked.

“今早上是不是收着人家的信了？”她问道。

“I?... I didn’t get one. . . .” Pavel Ivanitch was overcome with confusion. “You are inventing. . . imagination.”

“信？什么信？我，我没收着……”范伊万被问蒙了，“别瞎说…哪儿来的信。”

“Oh, come, tell us! Own up, you did! Why, it was I sent you that letter! Honour bright, I did! Ha ha!”

“还装呢！别装了！我给你写的我还不知道吗！笑死我了，看把你急的，哈哈哈！”

Pavel Ivanitch turned crimson and bent over his plate. “Silly jokes,” he growled.

范伊万气得血往上涌，闷头扒拉着盘子。“神经病。”他气愤道。

“But what could I do? Tell me that.... We had to scrub the rooms out this evening, and how could we get you out of the house? There was no other way of getting you out.... But don’t be angry, stupid.... I didn’t want you to be dull in the arbour, so I sent the same letter to Mitya too! Mitya, have you been to the arbour?”

“别这样，你听我解释。家里晚上要大扫除，得想个办法把你赶出去。我能有什么办法？不就只能这样喽……消消气，是我不好……我怕你一个人待着没劲，还给锁儿也写了一封呢！锁儿，你去亭子了吗？”

Mitya grinned and left off glaring with hatred at his rival.

锁儿咧嘴一笑，恨恨地瞪了一眼自己的情敌。