crime and punishment(罪与罚)-第17节
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！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
upon the grass and instantly fell asleep。
In a morbid condition of the brain； dreams often have a singular
actuality； vividness； and extraordinary semblance of reality。 At times
monstrous images are created； but the setting and the whole picture
are so truthlike and filled with details so delicate； so unexpectedly；
but so artistically consistent； that the dreamer； were he an artist
like Pushkin or Turgenev even； could never have invented them in the
waking state。 Such sick dreams always remain long in the memory and
make a powerful impression on the overwrought and deranged nervous
system。
Raskolnikov had a fearful dream。 He dreamt he was back in his
childhood in the little town of his birth。 He was a child about
seven years old； walking into the country with his father on the
evening of a holiday。 It was a grey and heavy day； the country was
exactly as he remembered it； indeed he recalled it far more vividly in
his dream than he had done in memory。 The little town stood on a level
flat as bare as the hand； not even a willow near it； only in the far
distance； a copse lay； a dark blur on the very edge of the horizon。
A few paces beyond the last market garden stood a tavern； a big
tavern； which had always aroused in him a feeling of aversion； even of
fear； when he walked by it with his father。 There was always a crowd
there； always shouting； laughter and abuse； hideous hoarse singing and
often fighting。 Drunken and horrible…looking figures were hanging
about the tavern。 He used to cling close to his father； trembling
all over when he met them。 Near the tavern the road became a dusty
track； the dust of which was always black。 It was a winding road；
and about a hundred paces further on； it turned to the right to the
graveyard。 In the middle of the graveyard stood a stone church with
a green cupola where he used to go to mass two or three times a year
with his father and mother； when a service was held in memory of his
grandmother； who had long been dead； and whom he had never seen。 On
these occasions they used to take on a white dish tied up in a table
napkin a special sort of rice pudding with raisins stuck in it in
the shape of a cross。 He loved that church； the old…fashioned；
unadorned ikons and the old priest with the shaking head。 Near his
grandmother's grave； which was marked by a stone； was the little grave
of his younger brother who had died at six months old。 He did not
remember him at all； but he had been told about his little brother；
and whenever he visited the graveyard he used religiously and
reverently to cross himself and to bow down and kiss the little grave。
And now he dreamt that he was walking with his father past the
tavern on the way to the graveyard； he was holding his father's hand
and looking with dread at the tavern。 A peculiar circumstance
attracted his attention： there seemed to be some kind of festivity
going on； there were crowds of gaily dressed townspeople； peasant
women； their husbands； and riff…raff of all sorts； all singing and all
more or less drunk。 Near the entrance of the tavern stood a cart；
but a strange cart。 It was one of those big carts usually drawn by
heavy cart…horses and laden with casks of wine or other heavy goods。
He always liked looking at those great cart…horses； with their long
manes； thick legs； and slow even pace； drawing along a perfect
mountain with no appearance of effort； as though it were easier
going with a load than without it。 But now； strange to say； in the
shafts of such a cart he saw a thin little sorrel beast； one of
those peasants' nags which he had often seen straining their utmost
under a heavy load of wood or hay； especially when the wheels were
stuck in the mud or in a rut。 And the peasants would be at them so
cruelly； sometimes even about the nose and eyes and he felt so
sorry； so sorry for them that he almost cried； and his mother always
used to take him away from the window。 All of a sudden there was a
great uproar of shouting； singing and the balalaika； and from the
tavern a number of big and very drunken peasants came out； wearing red
and blue shirts and coats thrown over their shoulders。
〃Get in； get in！〃 shouted one of them； a young thick…necked
peasant with a fleshy face red as a carrot。 〃I'll take you all； get
in！〃
But at once there was an outbreak of laughter and exclamations in
the crowd。
〃Take us all with a beast like that！〃
〃Why； Mikolka； are you crazy to put a nag like that in such a cart？〃
〃And this mare is twenty if she is a day； mates！〃
〃Get in； I'll take you all；〃 Mikolka shouted again； leaping first
into the cart； seizing the reins and standing straight up in front。
〃The bay has gone with Marvey；〃 he shouted from the cart… 〃and this
brute； mates； is just breaking my heart； I feel as if I could kill
her。 She's just eating her head off。 Get in； I tell you！ I'll make her
gallop！ She'll gallop！〃 and he picked up the whip； preparing himself
with relish to flog the little mare。
〃Get in！ Come along！〃 The crowd laughed。 〃D'you hear； she'll
gallop！〃
〃Gallop indeed！ She has not had a gallop in her for the last ten
years！〃
〃She'll jog along！〃
〃Don't you mind her； mates； bring a whip each of you； get ready！〃
〃All right！ Give it to her！〃
They all clambered into Mikolka's cart； laughing and making jokes。
Six men got in and there was still room for more。 They hauled in a
fat； rosy…cheeked woman。 She was dressed in red cotton； in a
pointed； beaded headdress and thick leather shoes； she was cracking
nuts and laughing。 The crowd round them was laughing too and indeed；
how could they help laughing？ That wretched nag was to drag all the
cartload of them at a gallop！ Two young fellows in the cart were
just getting whips ready to help Mikolka。 With the cry of 〃now；〃 the
mare tugged with all her might； but far from galloping； could scarcely
move forward； she struggled with her legs； gasping and shrinking
from the blows of the three whips which were showered upon her like
hail。 The laughter in the cart and in the crowd was redoubled； but
Mikolka flew into a rage and furiously thrashed the mare； as though he
supposed she really could gallop。
〃Let me get in； too； mates；〃 shouted a young man in the crowd
whose appetite was aroused。
〃Get in； all get in；〃 cried Mikolka； 〃she will draw you all。 I'll
beat her to death！〃 And he thrashed and thrashed at the mare； beside
himself with fury。
〃Father； father；〃 he cried； 〃father； what are they doing？ Father；
they are beating the poor horse！〃
〃Come along； come along！〃 said his father。 〃They are drunken and
foolish； they are in fun； come away； don't look！〃 and he tried to draw
him away； but he tore himself away from his hand； and； beside
himself with horror； ran to the horse。 The poor beast was in a bad
way。 She was gasping； standing still； then tugging again and almost
falling。
〃Beat her to death；〃 cried Mikolka； 〃it's come to that。 I'll do
for her！〃
〃What are you about； are you a Christian； you devil？〃 shouted an old
man in the crowd。
〃Did any one ever see the like？ A wretched nag like that pulling
such a cartload；〃 said another。
〃You'll kill her；〃 shouted the third。
〃Don't meddle！ It's my property。
