ONCE upon a time there lived in Moscow a man called Vladimir Semyonitch Liadovsky. —
从前在莫斯科住着一个名叫弗拉基米尔·谢缅诺维奇·利亚多夫斯基的人。 —

He took his degree at the university in the faculty of law and had a post on the board of management of some railway; —
他在大学法学院取得学位，并在某条铁路的管理委员会担任职务； —

but if you had asked him what his work was, he would look candidly and openly at you with his large bright eyes through his gold pincenez, and would answer in a soft, velvety, lisping baritone:
但如果你问他在做什么工作，他会用他那双透过镀金眼镜看着你的明亮大眼睛坦率地回答道，声音柔和、咬字不清：“我的工作是文学。”

“My work is literature.”
大学毕业后，弗拉基米尔·谢缅诺维奇写了一篇戏剧评论发表在报纸上。

After completing his course at the university, Vladimir Semyonitch had had a paragraph of theatrical criticism accepted by a newspaper. —
从那篇评论开始，他进而涉足文学评论，一年后，他已经升级为在同一份报纸上每周撰写一篇关于文学的文章。 —

From this paragraph he passed on to reviewing, and a year later he had advanced to writing a weekly article on literary matters for the same paper. —
但这并不意味着他是一个业余爱好者，他的文学工作是零零散散、偶然性的。 —

But it does not follow from these facts that he was an amateur, that his literary work was of an ephemeral, haphazard character. —
每当我看到他那修长苗条的身影，他高高的额头和长发飘飘，当听着他的演讲，总觉得他的写作，无论他写的是什么，以何种方式，总是像心脏跳动一样，是他身体的有机一部分，就像在他母亲的子宫里时，他整个文学计划必须成为他脑子的一部分那样。 —

Whenever I saw his neat spare figure, his high forehead and long mane of hair, when I listened to his speeches, it always seemed to me that his writing, quite apart from what and how he wrote, was something organically part of him, like the beating of his heart, and that his whole literary programme must have been an integral part of his brain while he was a baby in his mother’s womb. —
甚至从他的步态、姿势、甩掉烟灰的方式中，我可以读出整个完整的计划从头到尾，带有所有的陈词滥调、沉闷、和高尚情感。 —

Even in his walk, his gestures, his manner of shaking off the ash from his cigarette, I could read this whole programme from A to Z, with all its claptrap, dulness, and honourable sentiments. —
当他满脸神采地在某位名人的棺材上放上花环，或者威严庄重地收集签名以表示支持某个主张的时候；他对结交著名文学人的热情，他发现才华甚至在其缺失的地方，他永远的热情，他心跳每分钟达到一百二十下，他对生活的无知，他毫无办法地投入那些为贫困学生举办的音乐会和文学晚会，他对年轻人的倾慕—所有这一切使得人们会觉得他是一个作家，即使他没有写过他的那些文章。 —

He was a literary man all over when with an inspired face he laid a wreath on the coffin of some celebrity, or with a grave and solemn face collected signatures for some address; —
他是那种作家之一，说出诸如“我们仅是少数派”，或者“如果没有斗争，生活会是什么样子？前进！”这样的话显得很适合，尽管他从来没和任何人争论过，也从未真正向前迈进过。 —

his passion for making the acquaintance of distinguished literary men, his faculty for finding talent even where it was absent, his perpetual enthusiasm, his pulse that went at one hundred and twenty a minute, his ignorance of life, the genuinely feminine flutter with which he threw himself into concerts and literary evenings for the benefit of destitute students, the way in which he gravitated towards the young—all this would have created for him the reputation of a writer even if he had not written his articles.
甚至当他开始谈论理想时也并不显得假冒。

He was one of those writers to whom phrases like, “We are but few,” or “What would life be without strife? —
每年一次的大学周年庆典，在圣塔蒂亚娜节，他会喝醉，走调地唱起Gaudeamus，他那洋溢着汗水和笑容的容颜仿佛在说： —

Forward!” were pre-eminently becoming, though he never strove with any one and never did go forward. —
“我们继续前进吧！” —

It did not even sound mawkish when he fell to discoursing of ideals. —
生活缺少奋斗会是怎样的呢？ —

Every anniversary of the university, on St. Tatiana’s Day, he got drunk, chanted Gaudeamus out of tune, and his beaming and perspiring countenance seemed to say: —
他眉飞色舞地在一些名人的棺材上敬献花圈，或者庄严肃穆地为某项声明征集签名的时候，都展现着这种神情。 —

“See, I’m drunk; I’m keeping it up! —
“看吧，我喝醉了；我还能坚持下去！ —

” But even that suited him.
但是即使那样也适合他。

Vladimir Semyonitch had genuine faith in his literary vocation and his whole programme. —
弗拉基米尔·谢苗诺维奇对自己的文学使命和整个计划有着真诚的信念。 —

He had no doubts, and was evidently very well pleased with himself. —
他毫无疑虑，显然对自己非常满意。 —

Only one thing grieved him—the paper for which he worked had a limited circulation and was not very influential. —
他唯一不开心的是——他为之工作的报纸发行量有限，影响力不是很大。 —

But Vladimir Semyonitch believed that sooner or later he would succeed in getting on to a solid magazine where he would have scope and could display himself—and what little distress he felt on this score was pale beside the brilliance of his hopes.
但弗拉基米尔·谢苗诺维奇相信迟早会成功进入一家重要的杂志，在那里他将有更大的施展空间，并展示自己——在这方面他所感到的一点点痛苦，相比希望的光彩，显得苍白了。

Visiting this charming man, I made the acquaintance of his sister, Vera Semyonovna, a woman doctor. —
拜访这位迷人的男士时，我结识了他的妹妹维拉·谢孟诺夫娜，一位女医生。 —

At first sight, what struck me about this woman was her look of exhaustion and extreme ill-health. —
乍一看，让我印象深刻的是这位女性疲惫不堪和极度不健康的神情。 —

She was young, with a good figure and regular, rather large features, but in comparison with her agile, elegant, and talkative brother she seemed angular, listless, slovenly, and sullen. —
她年轻，身材匀称，面部轮廓端正而有些粗犷，但与她那敏捷、优雅且健谈的哥哥相比，她显得角弓般、倦怠、邋遢和闷闷不乐。 —

There was something strained, cold, apathetic in her movements, smiles, and words; —
她的动作、微笑和言辞中带着一种紧张、冷漠和冷淡； —

she was not liked, and was thought proud and not very intelligent.
她不受喜欢，被认为骄傲而并不十分聪明。

In reality, I fancy, she was resting.
实际上，我猜想她是在休息。

“My dear friend,” her brother would often say to me, sighing and flinging back his hair in his picturesque literary way, “one must never judge by appearances! —
“亲爱的朋友，”她的哥哥经常对我说，叹了口气，用他那风趣的文学方式拂开头发，“永远都不能以外表来判断！ —

Look at this book: it has long ago been read. —
看看这本书：早就被阅读过了。 —

It is warped, tattered, and lies in the dust uncared for; —
它变形了、破烂不堪，被抛在尘埃中无人珍惜；” —

but open it, and it will make you weep and turn pale. My sister is like that book. —
但打开它，你会哭泣并变得苍白。我姐姐就像那本书。 —

Lift the cover and peep into her soul, and you will be horror-stricken. —
揭开封面，窥视她的灵魂，你会感到恐惧。 —

Vera passed in some three months through experiences that would have been ample for a whole lifetime!”
维拉在大约三个月内经历了一生中足够的经历！

Vladimir Semyonitch looked round him, took me by the sleeve, and began to whisper:
弗拉基米尔·谢若莫尼奇环顾四周，拉着我的袖子，开始低声说：

“You know, after taking her degree she married, for love, an architect. It’s a complete tragedy! —
“你知道，在取得学位后，她出于爱情嫁给了一位建筑师。这完全是一场悲剧！ —

They had hardly been married a month when—whew—her husband died of typhus. —
他们结婚还不到一个月，她的丈夫就死于伤寒。 —

But that was not all. She caught typhus from him, and when, on her recovery, she learnt that her Ivan was dead, she took a good dose of morphia. —
但这还不是全部。她从他那里感染了伤寒，当她康复时得知她的伊万已经去世了，她服用了一大剂吗啡。 —

If it had not been for vigorous measures taken by her friends, my Vera would have been by now in Paradise. —
如果不是她的朋友们采取了果断措施，我的维拉现在早已在天堂了。 —

Tell me, isn’t it a tragedy? And is not my sister like an ingénue, who has played already all the five acts of her life? —
告诉我，这不是一场悲剧吗？我的姐姐难道不像一个已经演完一生所有五幕的少女吗？ —

The audience may stay for the farce, but the ingénue must go home to rest.”
观众可能会留下来看闹剧，但少女必须回家休息。”

After three months of misery Vera Semyonovna had come to live with her brother. —
在三个月的痛苦后，维拉·谢若莫诺芙娜来和她的兄弟住在一起。 —

She was not fitted for the practice of medicine, which exhausted her and did not satisfy her; —
她不适合从事医学，这让她筋疲力尽而不满足； —

she did not give one the impression of knowing her subject, and I never once heard her say anything referring to her medical studies.
她没有给人留下对科目的了解的印象，我从未听她提到过她的医学研究。

She gave up medicine, and, silent and unoccupied, as though she were a prisoner, spent the remainder of her youth in colourless apathy, with bowed head and hanging hands. —
她放弃了医学，默默无为，如同被囚禁，度过了她余生中毫无色彩的苍白，低着头，悬着手。 —

The only thing to which she was not completely indifferent, and which brought some brightness into the twilight of her life, was the presence of her brother, whom she loved. —
唯一使她不完全冷漠，并为她生命中暮然的一抹亮色的事物，是她心爱的哥哥的存在。 —

She loved him himself and his programme, she was full of reverence for his articles; —
她既爱他本人，也爱他的作品，对他的文章充满敬畏； —

and when she was asked what her brother was doing, she would answer in a subdued voice as though afraid of waking or distracting him: —
当有人问起她哥哥在干什么时，她总是轻声回答，仿佛怕唤醒或分散他的注意力： —

“He is writing… .” Usually when he was at his work she used to sit beside him, her eyes fixed on his writing hand. —
“他在写作……”他平时写作的时候，她经常坐在他身边，眼睛盯着他写字的手； —

She used at such moments to look like a sick animal warming itself in the sun… .
在这种时刻，她看起来像是一只在阳光下取暖的生病动物……

One winter evening Vladimir Semyonitch was sitting at his table writing a critical article for his newspaper: —
一个冬天的傍晚，弗拉基米尔·谢苗诺维奇坐在桌边为报纸写了一篇评论文章； —

Vera Semyonovna was sitting beside him, staring as usual at his writing hand. —
维拉·谢苗诺芙娜坐在他身边，像往常一样盯着他的写字手； —

The critic wrote rapidly, without erasures or corrections. The pen scratched and squeaked. —
评论家写得迅速，一气呵成，没有涂改或修改。钢笔在纸上划来划去； —

On the table near the writing hand there lay open a freshly-cut volume of a thick magazine, containing a story of peasant life, signed with two initials. —
在写字手旁边的桌子上，放着一本新裁的厚杂志，书中收录了一则以两个字母签名的农民生活故事； —

Vladimir Semyonitch was enthusiastic; he thought the author was admirable in his handling of the subject, suggested Turgenev in his descriptions of nature, was truthful, and had an excellent knowledge of the life of the peasantry. —
弗拉基米尔·谢苗诺维奇非常激动；他认为作者在处理主题上非常出色，有些地方像屠格涅夫在描写自然风光，真实，对农民生活有很好的了解； —

The critic himself knew nothing of peasant life except from books and hearsay, but his feelings and his inner convictions forced him to believe the story. —
评论家本人对农民生活一无所知，只能从书本和传闻中了解，但他的感受和内心的信念迫使他相信这个故事； —

He foretold a brilliant future for the author, assured him he should await the conclusion of the story with great impatience, and so on.
他预言作者会有一个光明的未来，保证他会急切等待故事的结尾等等；

“Fine story!” he said, flinging himself back in his chair and closing his eyes with pleasure. —
“好故事！”他说着，躺在椅子上闭上眼睛，享受着； —

“The tone is extremely good.”
“情绪非常好。”

Vera Semyonovna looked at him, yawned aloud, and suddenly asked an unexpected question. —
维拉·谢苗诺芙娜看着他，大声打了一个哈欠，突然提出一个出乎意料的问题； —

In the evening she had a habit of yawning nervously and asking short, abrupt questions, not always relevant.
晚上她有一个习惯，神经质地打哈欠和提出简短、突兀的问题，不一定总是相关的。

“Volodya,” she asked, “what is the meaning of non-resistance to evil?”
“弗拉基米尔，”她问道，“不抵抗邪恶的意思是什么？”

“Non-resistance to evil!” repeated her brother, opening his eyes.
“不抵抗邪恶！”她的兄弟重复道，睁开了眼睛。

“Yes. What do you understand by it?”
“是的。你对此理解如何？”

“You see, my dear, imagine that thieves or brigands attack you, and you, instead of …”
“你看，亲爱的，想象一下，如果有贼或土匪袭击你，而你，而不是…”

“No, give me a logical definition.”
“不，给我一个逻辑的定义。”

“A logical definition? Um! Well.” Vladimir Semyonitch pondered. —
“一个逻辑的定义？嗯！”弗拉基米尔·谢密扬尼奇沉思着。 —

“Non- resistance to evil means an attitude of non-interference with regard to all that in the sphere of mortality is called evil.”
“不抵抗邪恶意味着对于在人类尘世中被称为邪恶的一切保持不干涉的态度。”

Saying this, Vladimir Semyonitch bent over the table and took up a novel. —
说着，弗拉基米尔·谢密扬尼奇俯身到桌子上，拿起一本小说。 —

This novel, written by a woman, dealt with the painfulness of the irregular position of a society lady who was living under the same roof with her lover and her illegitimate child. —
这本小说，是一位女性写的，讲述了一个社会女士身份不正常的困境，她与情人和非婚生子同住一屋的痛苦。 —

Vladimir Semyonitch was pleased with the excellent tendency of the story, the plot and the presentation of it. —
弗拉基米尔·谢密扬尼奇对这个故事的优越倾向，情节和表现感到满意。 —

Making a brief summary of the novel, he selected the best passages and added to them in his account: “How true to reality, how living, how picturesque! —
他对这部小说进行了简要总结，选出了最好的段落，并在他的评论中补充道：“多么接近现实啊，多么生动，多么生动！ —

The author is not merely an artist; he is also a subtle psychologist who can see into the hearts of his characters. —
作者不仅是一位艺术家；他还是一位敏锐的心理学家，能洞悉角色内心。 —

Take, for example, this vivid description of the emotions of the heroine on meeting her husband,” and so on.
比如，对于女主人公在与丈夫相遇时的情感的生动描述，”等等。

“Volodya,” Vera Semyonovna interrupted his critical effusions, “I’ve been haunted by a strange idea since yesterday. —
“弗拉基米尔，”维拉·谢密扬诺夫娜打断了他的评论，“自昨天起我一直被一个奇怪的想法困扰。 —

I keep wondering where we should all be if human life were ordered on the basis of non- resistance to evil?”
我一直在想，如果人类生活基于不抵抗邪恶的原则，我们所有人会在哪里？”

“In all probability, nowhere. Non-resistance to evil would give the full rein to the criminal will, and, to say nothing of civilisation, this would leave not one stone standing upon another anywhere on earth.”
“很可能是没有地方。对邪恶的不抵抗会完全放纵犯罪意志，而且不说文明，这将使地球上的每一块石头都支离破碎。”

“What would be left?”
“会剩下什么呢？”

“Bashi-Bazouke and brothels. In my next article I’ll talk about that perhaps. —
“巴希巴祖基和妓院。也许我下一篇文章会谈谈这个。” —

Thank you for reminding me.”
谢谢你提醒我。”

And a week later my friend kept his promise. —
一周后，我的朋友兑现了他的承诺。 —

That was just at the period—in the eighties—when people were beginning to talk and write of non-resistance, of the right to judge, to punish, to make war; —
“那正是在八十年代，人们开始谈论和写关于不抵抗，关于裁判、惩罚、发动战争的时候； —

when some people in our set were beginning to do without servants, to retire into the country, to work on the land, and to renounce animal food and carnal love.
当我们这一群人中有些人开始不再雇用佣人，退居乡下，耕种土地，放弃食用动物食品和肉欲时。”

After reading her brother’s article, Vera Semyonovna pondered and hardly perceptibly shrugged her shoulders.
“维拉·谢苗诺芙娜读完她哥哥的文章后思考了一下，几乎看不出她耸了耸肩膀。

“Very nice!” she said. “But still there’s a great deal I don’t understand. —
“很好！”她说。“但还有很多我不明白。 —

For instance, in Leskov’s story ‘Belonging to the Cathedral’ there is a queer gardener who sows for the benefit of all—for customers, for beggars, and any who care to steal. —
比如，莱斯科夫的故事《属于大教堂》里有一个奇怪的园丁，为了所有人的利益而播种——为顾客，为乞丐，为愿意偷的人。 —

Did he behave sensibly?”
他行为明智吗？”

From his sister’s tone and expression Vladimir Semyonitch saw that she did not like his article, and, almost for the first time in his life, his vanity as an author sustained a shock. —
从姐姐的语气和表情中，弗拉基米尔·谢缅尼奇看出她不喜欢他的文章，几乎是他作为作者的虚荣心第一次受到打击。 —

With a shade of irritation he answered:
带着一丝烦躁，他回答道：

“Theft is immoral. To sow for thieves is to recognise the right of thieves to existence. —
“窃取是不道德的。为窃贼播种就是承认窃贼存在的权利。 —

What would you think if I were to establish a newspaper and, dividing it into sections, provide for blackmailing as well as for liberal ideas? —
如果我要办一份报纸，将其分成不同版块，既支持勒索，又支持自由主义思想，你会怎么想？” —

Following the example of that gardener, I ought, logically, to provide a section for blackmailers, the intellectual scoundrels? Yes.”
仿效那位园丁的例子，我应该逻辑上为敲诈者提供一个专栏，这些知识分子恶棍们？是的。

Vera Semyonovna made no answer. She got up from the table, moved languidly to the sofa and lay down.
维拉·谢苗诺夫娜没有回答。她从桌子上站起来，慵懒地走到沙发上躺下。

“I don’t know, I know nothing about it,” she said musingly. —
“我不知道，对此一无所知，”她若有所思地说道。 —

“You are probably right, but it seems to me, I feel somehow, that there’s something false in our resistance to evil, as though there were something concealed or unsaid. —
“你可能是对的，但在我们抵抗邪恶的时候，似乎有一些虚假的地方，就好像有一些隐秘或未说的事情。 —

God knows, perhaps our methods of resisting evil belong to the category of prejudices which have become so deeply rooted in us, that we are incapable of parting with them, and therefore cannot form a correct judgment of them.”
天知道，也许我们抵抗邪恶的方法属于根深蒂固在我们内心的偏见范畴，以至于我们无法放弃它们，因此无法正确判断它们。”

“How do you mean?”
“你是什么意思？”

“I don’t know how to explain to you. Perhaps man is mistaken in thinking that he is obliged to resist evil and has a right to do so, just as he is mistaken in thinking, for instance, that the heart looks like an ace of hearts. —
“我不知道怎么向你解释。也许人错了，以为自己有义务抵抗邪恶并有权这样做，就像他以为心脏长得像红心A一样错了一样。 —

It is very possible in resisting evil we ought not to use force, but to use what is the very opposite of force—if you, for instance, don’t want this picture stolen from you, you ought to give it away rather than lock it up… .”
在抵制邪恶时，我们很可能不应该使用武力，而是使用与武力完全相反的方式——比如，如果你不想让这幅画被偷走，你应该把它送出去，而不是锁起来…

“That’s clever, very clever! If I want to marry a rich, vulgar woman, she ought to prevent me from such a shabby action by hastening to make me an offer herself!”
“这个聪明，非常聪明！如果我想要娶一个富有、庸俗的女人，她应该阻止我做这种卑鄙的事情，而是迅速向我提出自己的求婚！

The brother and sister talked till midnight without understanding each other. —
兄妹俩交谈到半夜，却互相不明白。 —

If any outsider had overheard them he would hardly have been able to make out what either of them was driving at.
如果有个外人听到他们的对话，他几乎都听不懂他们在说什么。

They usually spent the evening at home. There were no friends’ houses to which they could go, and they felt no need for friends; —
他们通常在家里度过晚上，没有朋友的家可以去，也没有朋友的需要； —

they only went to the theatre when there was a new play—such was the custom in literary circles—they did not go to concerts, for they did not care for music.
只有在有新剧的时候才去看戏——这是文学圈的习惯——他们不去听音乐会，因为他们对音乐不感兴趣。

“You may think what you like,” Vera Semyonovna began again the next day, “but for me the question is to a great extent settled. —
“你可以随意想什么，”维拉·谢梅诺夫娜第二天又开始说，“但对我来说这个问题在很大程度上已经解决了。 —

I am firmly convinced that I have no grounds for resisting evil directed against me personally. —
我坚信我没有理由反抗针对我的邪恶。 —

If they want to kill me, let them. My defending myself will not make the murderer better. —
如果他们想杀我，就让他们杀吧。我的自卫不会使凶手变得更好。 —

All I have now to decide is the second half of the question: —
我现在唯一需要决定的是问题的后半部分： —

how I ought to behave to evil directed against my neighbours?”
我应该如何对待针对我的邻居的邪恶？”

“Vera, mind you don’t become rabid!” said Vladimir Semyonitch, laughing. —
“维拉，注意别成为狂热者！”弗拉基米尔·谢梅尼奇笑着说。 —

“I see non-resistance is becoming your idée fixe!”
“我看你对不反抗已经成了你的固执观念！”

He wanted to turn off these tedious conversations with a jest, but somehow it was beyond a jest; —
他想用一句俏皮话打发这些沉闷的对话，但不知怎的，这已经超出了一句俏皮话； —

his smile was artificial and sour. His sister gave up sitting beside his table and gazing reverently at his writing hand, and he felt every evening that behind him on the sofa lay a person who did not agree with him. —
他的微笑是虚假的、酸涩的。他妹妹不再坐在他的桌子旁，恭敬地注视着他的写作手，他每天晚上都感到，他的沙发上背后躺着一个不同意他的人。 —

And his back grew stiff and numb, and there was a chill in his soul. —
他的背变得僵硬麻木，灵魂里感到一阵寒意。 —

An author’s vanity is vindictive, implacable, incapable of forgiveness, and his sister was the first and only person who had laid bare and disturbed that uneasy feeling, which is like a big box of crockery, easy to unpack but impossible to pack up again as it was before.
一位作家的虚荣是报复性的，冷酷无情，无法原谅，他的妹妹是第一位也是唯一一位揭示并扰乱了那种不安感的人，就像一个大箱子的瓷器，容易打开，但再也无法像以前那样装好。

Weeks and months passed by, and his sister clung to her ideas, and did not sit down by the table. —
周周月月过去了，他的妹妹执着于自己的想法，没有坐在桌旁。 —

One spring evening Vladimir Semyonitch was sitting at his table writing an article. —
一个春日傍晚，弗拉基米尔·谢缅诺维奇坐在桌前写一篇文章。 —

He was reviewing a novel which described how a village schoolmistress refused the man whom she loved and who loved her, a man both wealthy and intellectual, simply because marriage made her work as a schoolmistress impossible. —
他在评述一部小说，讲述一个村里的女教师拒绝了爱她并且被她所爱的男人，一个富有而且有智慧的男人，只是因为结婚让她的工作成为女教师的可能。 —

Vera Semyonovna lay on the sofa and brooded.
维拉·谢缅诺夫娜躺在沙发上沉思。

“My God, how slow it is!” she said, stretching. “How insipid and empty life is! —
“天啊，时间过得太慢了！”她伸了个懒腰。“生活是多么乏味空虚啊！ —

I don’t know what to do with myself, and you are wasting your best years in goodness knows what. —
我不知道该怎么办，而你在善良知不知道浪费自己最好的年华。 —

Like some alchemist, you are rummaging in old rubbish that nobody wants. My God!”
像某位炼金术士，你在翻看没人想要的陈旧垃圾。天啊！”

Vladimir Semyonitch dropped his pen and slowly looked round at his sister.
弗拉基米尔·谢缅诺维奇放下笔，慢慢地看了一眼他的妹妹。

“It’s depressing to look at you!” said his sister. —
“看着你真是太沮丧了！”他的妹妹说道。 —

“Wagner in ‘Faust’ dug up worms, but he was looking for a treasure, anyway, and you are looking for worms for the sake of the worms.”
“瓦格纳在《浮士德》里挖出蠕虫，但他是为了寻找宝藏，而你是为了蠕虫而寻找蠕虫。”

“That’s vague!”
“说得模棱两可！”

“Yes, Volodya; all these days I’ve been thinking, I’ve been thinking painfully for a long time, and I have come to the conclusion that you are hopelessly reactionary and conventional. —
“是的，Volodya；这些天我一直在思考，思考已经痛苦了很久，我得出结论，你是无可救药的保守主义者和传统主义者。 —

Come, ask yourself what is the object of your zealous, conscientious work? Tell me, what is it? —
来，问问自己你那殷勤、认真的工作的目标是什么？告诉我，是什么？ —

Why, everything has long ago been extracted that can be extracted from that rubbish in which you are always rummaging. —
为什么你总是在翻找垃圾中早就被提取尽的一切。 —

You may pound water in a mortar and analyse it as long as you like, you’ll make nothing more of it than the chemists have made already… .”
你可以在臼中捣水，分析它多久都可以，你得到的还是化学家们已经得到的东西。

“Indeed!” drawled Vladimir Semyonitch, getting up. —
“真的吗！”弗拉基米尔·谢缅尼奇懒洋洋地说着，站起来。 —

“Yes, all this is old rubbish because these ideas are eternal; but what do you consider new, then?”
“是的，所有这些都是旧垃圾，因为这些想法是永恒的；那么，你认为新的是什么？”

“You undertake to work in the domain of thought; —
“你承诺在思维领域工作； —

it is for you to think of something new. —
这取决于你想出新的东西。 —

It’s not for me to teach you.”
这不是我来教你。”

“Me—an alchemist!” the critic cried in wonder and indignation, screwing up his eyes ironically. —
“我是炼金术士！”批评者惊讶而愤怒地喊道，讽刺地眯起眼睛。 —

“Art, progress—all that is alchemy?”
“艺术、进步—这一切都是炼金术吗？

“You see, Volodya, it seems to me that if all you thinking people had set yourselves to solving great problems, all these little questions that you fuss about now would solve themselves by the way. —
看吧，沃洛迪亚，我觉得如果你所有思想家们都致力于解决重大问题，那么你们现在烦恼的所有这些小问题会在途中自行解决。 —

If you go up in a balloon to see a town, you will incidentally, without any effort, see the fields and the villages and the rivers as well. —
如果你乘热气球去看一个城镇，你会无意中、毫不费力地看到田野、村庄和河流。 —

When stearine is manufactured, you get glycerine as a by-product. —
制造硬脂酸脂时，你会得到甘油作为副产品。 —

It seems to me that contemporary thought has settled on one spot and stuck to it. —
我觉得当代思想已经停滞不前。 —

It is prejudiced, apathetic, timid, afraid to take a wide titanic flight, just as you and I are afraid to climb on a high mountain; —
它偏见重重，消极怯懦，害怕迈出一次广阔的泰坦尼克飞行，就像你我害怕登上高山一样； —

it is conservative.”
它很保守。”

Such conversations could not but leave traces. —
这样的对话无疑会留下痕迹。 —

The relations of the brother and sister grew more and more strained every day. —
兄妹之间的关系每天都变得越来越紧张。 —

The brother became unable to work in his sister’s presence, and grew irritable when he knew his sister was lying on the sofa, looking at his back; —
兄弟在姐姐面前无法工作，而且当他知道她躺在沙发上看着他的背时，变得易怒； —

while the sister frowned nervously and stretched when, trying to bring back the past, he attempted to share his enthusiasms with her. —
而姐姐在试图重拾以往时，她皱着眉头紧张地伸展身体，当他试图与她分享自己的热情时。 —

Every evening she complained of being bored, and talked about independence of mind and those who are in the rut of tradition. —
每天晚上她抱怨无聊，谈论思想的独立性以及那些墨守成规的人。 —

Carried away by her new ideas, Vera Semyonovna proved that the work that her brother was so engrossed in was conventional, that it was a vain effort of conservative minds to preserve what had already served its turn and was vanishing from the scene of action. —
沉迷于她的新思想中，维拉·谢米亚诺芙娜证明了她兄弟所沉迷的工作是传统的，是保守心态的徒劳努力，试图保存那些已经完成任务并正在从现场消失的东西。 —

She made no end of comparisons. She compared her brother at one time to an alchemist, then to a musty old Believer who would sooner die than listen to reason. —
她不停地进行比较。她有时将她的兄弟比作炼金术士，然后又比作一个宁愿死也不愿听取理智的陈旧的信徒。 —

By degrees there was a perceptible change in her manner of life, too. —
渐渐地，她的生活方式也发生了明显的变化。 —

She was capable of lying on the sofa all day long doing nothing but think, while her face wore a cold, dry expression such as one sees in one-sided people of strong faith. —
她有能力整天躺在沙发上什么事情都不做，只是沉思，而她的脸上带着像我们见到的那种坚定信仰的片面的人的冷漠、干燥表情。 —

She began to refuse the attentions of the servants, swept and tidied her own room, cleaned her own boots and brushed her own clothes. —
她开始拒绝仆人的照顾，自己打扫整理房间，清洁靴子，刷洗衣物。 —

Her brother could not help looking with irritation and even hatred at her cold face when she went about her menial work. —
当她在做她的仆人工作时，哥哥忍不住以愤怒甚至仇恨的眼神看着她冷漠的脸。 —

In that work, which was always performed with a certain solemnity, he saw something strained and false, he saw something both pharisaical and affected. —
在那种总是带着某种庄严的工作中，他看到了一些紧绷和虚假的东西，他看到了一些伪善和做作的东西。 —

And knowing he could not touch her by persuasion, he carped at her and teased her like a schoolboy.
知道他不能通过劝说触及她，他像个小学生一样嘲笑和戏弄她。

“You won’t resist evil, but you resist my having servants!” he taunted her. —
“你不抵抗邪恶，但你却反对我有仆人！”他嘲讽她。 —

“If servants are an evil, why do you oppose it? —
“如果仆人是邪恶，那你为什么反对呢？ —

That’s inconsistent!”
“这是不一致的！”

He suffered, was indignant and even ashamed. —
他受尽折磨，感到愤慨甚至羞愧。 —

He felt ashamed when his sister began doing odd things before strangers.
当他的姐姐在陌生人面前做出奇怪的举动时，他感到羞愧。

“It’s awful, my dear fellow,” he said to me in private, waving his hands in despair. —
“亲爱的朋友，这太糟糕了，”他在私下对我说，绝望地挥动着手。 —

“It seems that our ingénue has remained to play a part in the farce, too. —
“看来我们的天真少女也留下来参与这出闹剧了。 —

She’s become morbid to the marrow of her bones! —
她已经病态到骨子里了！ —

I’ve washed my hands of her, let her think as she likes; —
我已经不再管她了，她随心所欲； —

but why does she talk, why does she excite me? —
但为什么她要说话，为什么她要激怒我？ —

She ought to think what it means for me to listen to her. —
她应该考虑一下，我要听她说话是什么感受。 —

What I feel when in my presence she has the effrontery to support her errors by blasphemously quoting the teaching of Christ! —
在我面前，她竟然厚颜无耻地引述基督的教导来支持她的错误！ —

It chokes me! It makes me hot all over to hear my sister propounding her doctrines and trying to distort the Gospel to suit her, when she purposely refrains from mentioning how the moneychangers were driven out of the Temple. —
这让我窒息！我听到我姐姐宣扬她的信条，试图篡改福音以迎合她时，我浑身发热，真是难以忍受！ —

That’s, my dear fellow, what comes of being half educated, undeveloped! —
亲爱的朋友，这就是半文化、未发展的结果！ —

That’s what comes of medical studies which provide no general culture!”
这就是医学研究没有提供普遍文化的后果！”

One day on coming home from the office, Vladimir Semyonitch found his sister crying. —
有一天，弗拉基米尔·谢米奥尼奇下珺办公室回家，发现他的姐姐在哭泣。 —

She was sitting on the sofa with her head bowed, wringing her hands, and tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. —
她坐在沙发上低着头，握着双手，泪水自由地流下脸颊。 —

The critic’s good heart throbbed with pain. —
评论家的良心痛苦地跳动着。 —

Tears fell from his eyes, too, and he longed to pet his sister, to forgive her, to beg her forgiveness, and to live as they used to before. —
眼泪也从他的眼睛中流下，他渴望抚摸他的妹妹，原谅她，请求她的原谅，并过上他们以前的生活。 —

… He knelt down and kissed her head, her hands, her shoulders… . —
他跪下来亲吻她的头、手和肩膀。 —

She smiled, smiled bitterly, unaccountably, while he with a cry of joy jumped up, seized the magazine from the table and said warmly:
她微笑了，带着痛苦的微笑，令人莫名其妙地微笑，而他却欢呼着跳了起来，从桌子上拿起杂志，热情地说道：

“Hurrah! We’ll live as we used to, Verotchka! With God’s blessing! —
“万岁！我们会像以前一样生活的，维洛奇卡！得到上帝的祝福！ —

And I’ve such a surprise for you here! —
我在这里有个惊喜！ —

Instead of celebrating the occasion with champagne, let us read it together! —
与其用香槟庆祝这个场合，不如一起读它！ —

A splendid, wonderful thing!”
一个辉煌的、美妙的东西！”

“Oh, no, no!” cried Vera Semyonovna, pushing away the book in alarm. —
“哦，不，不！”维拉·谢苗诺芙娜惊恐地推开书本说。 —

“I’ve read it already! I don’t want it, I don’t want it!”
“我已经读过了！我不想要，我不想要！”

“When did you read it?”
“你什么时候读的？”

“A year … two years ago… I read it long ago, and I know it, I know it!”
“一年……两年前……很久以前我就读过了，我知道了，我知道了！”

“H’m! … You’re a fanatic!” her brother said coldly, flinging the magazine on to the table.
“嗯……你是一个狂热分子！”她的兄弟冷冷地说着，将杂志扔在桌子上。

“No, you are a fanatic, not I! You!” And Vera Semyonovna dissolved into tears again. —
“不，你才是狂热分子，不是我！是你！”维拉·谢苗诺芙娜再次泪流满面。 —

Her brother stood before her, looked at her quivering shoulders, and thought. —
她的兄弟站在她面前，看着她颤抖的肩膀，思考着。 —

He thought, not of the agonies of loneliness endured by any one who begins to think in a new way of their own, not of the inevitable sufferings of a genuine spiritual revolution, but of the outrage of his programme, the outrage to his author’s vanity.
他没有想过任何一个以新的方式开始思考自己的人所经历的孤独之苦，也没有想过一个真正的精神革命所带来的不可避免的痛苦，而是想到了对他的计划的愤怒，对作者自尊的侮辱。

From this time he treated his sister coldly, with careless irony, and he endured her presence in the room as one endures the presence of old women that are dependent on one. —
从那时起，他冷漠地对待他的妹妹，带着漫不经心的讽刺，像对待依赖于他的老妇人一样容忍她在房间里的存在。 —

For her part, she left off disputing with him and met all his arguments, jeers, and attacks with a condescending silence which irritated him more than ever.
对于她来说，她不再与他争论，对他的所有论点、嘲笑和攻击都以一种居高临下的沉默回应，这让他比以往更恼火。

One summer morning Vera Semyonovna, dressed for travelling with a satchel over her shoulder, went in to her brother and coldly kissed him on the forehead.
一个夏日清晨，穿着装好准备出行的维拉·谢苗诺芙娜，肩上挎着一个手提包，走进她的兄弟房间，冷冷地在他额头上吻了一下。

“Where are you going?” he asked with surprise.
“你要去哪里？”他惊讶地问道。

“To the province of N. to do vaccination work.” Her brother went out into the street with her.
“去N省做疫苗工作。”她的兄弟陪她走到了街上。

“So that’s what you’ve decided upon, you queer girl,” he muttered. —
“所以你决定这样做了，你这个古怪的女孩，”他嘟囔道。 —

“Don’t you want some money?”
“你不要钱吗？”

“No, thank you. Good-bye.”
“不，谢谢。再见。”

The sister shook her brother’s hand and set off.
姐姐握住了弟弟的手，然后出发了。

“Why don’t you have a cab?” cried Vladimir Semyonitch.
“为什么不打车？”弗拉基米尔·谢苗尼奇喊道。

She did not answer. Her brother gazed after her, watched her rusty- looking waterproof, the swaying of her figure as she slouched along, forced himself to sigh, but did not succeed in rousing a feeling of regret. —
她没有回答。她的兄弟望着她的身影，看着她那件看起来有些破旧的防水外套，看着她摇摇晃晃地走着，努力地叹息，但没有成功激起遗憾之情。 —

His sister had become a stranger to him. —
他的妹妹变成了一个陌生人。 —

And he was a stranger to her. Anyway, she did not once look round.
而他对她也是陌生的。不过，她没有一次回头看。

Going back to his room, Vladimir Semyonitch at once sat down to the table and began to work at his article.
回到自己的房间，弗拉基米尔·谢苗尼奇立即坐到桌前，开始写他的文章。

I never saw Vera Semyonovna again. Where she is now I do not know. —
我再也没有见到维拉·谢梅诺夫娜了。至今她在何处我不得而知。 —

And Vladimir Semyonitch went on writing his articles, laying wreaths on coffins, singing Gaudeamus, busying himself over the Mutual Aid Society of Moscow Journalists.
而弗拉基米尔·谢梅诺继续写他的文章，为棺材献花，高唱快乐却多歌，忙着莫斯科记者互助协会的事务。

He fell ill with inflammation of the lungs; —
他患上了肺炎； —

he was ill in bed for three months—at first at home, and afterwards in the Golitsyn Hospital. —
他躺病床上三个月——开始在家里，后来转到了戈利津医院。 —

An abscess developed in his knee. People said he ought to be sent to the Crimea, and began getting up a collection for him. —
他的膝盖上发展了一个脓肿。人们说他应该被送到克里米亚，便开始为他筹集经费。 —

But he did not go to the Crimea—he died. —
但他并没有去克里米亚——他去世了。 —

We buried him in the Vagankovsky Cemetery, on the left side, where artists and literary men are buried.
我们把他葬在了瓦甘科夫斯基公墓的左侧，那里埋葬着画家和文学人。

One day we writers were sitting in the Tatars’ restaurant. —
有一天，我们作家们坐在鞑靼餐厅里。 —

I mentioned that I had lately been in the Vagankovsky Cemetery and had seen Vladimir Semyonitch’s grave there. —
我提到最近去了瓦甘科夫斯基公墓，看到了弗拉基米尔·谢梅诺维奇的坟墓。 —

It was utterly neglected and almost indistinguishable from the rest of the ground, the cross had fallen; —
它完全荒废，几乎和其他地面没有什么不同，十字架已经倒下； —

it was necessary to collect a few roubles to put it in order.
需要筹集一些钱来整修它。

But they listened to what I said unconcernedly, made no answer, and I could not collect a farthing. —
但他们听我说话时毫不在意，没有回答，我无法筹集一分钱。 —

No one remembered Vladimir Semyonitch. He was utterly forgotten.
没有人记得弗拉基米尔·谢梅诺维奇。他完全被遗忘了。