crime and punishment(罪与罚)-第15章
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！
。。。He ran beside the mare； ran in front of her； saw her being
whipped across the eyes； right in the eyes！ He was crying； he felt
choking； his tears were streaming。 One of the men gave him a cut
with the whip across the face； he did not feel it。 Wringing his
hands and screaming； he rushed up to the grey…headed old man with
the grey beard； who was shaking his head in disapproval。 One woman
seized him by the hand and would have taken him away； but he tore
himself from her and ran back to the mare。 She was almost at the
last gasp； but began kicking once more。
〃I'll teach you to kick；〃 Mikolka shouted ferociously。 He threw down
the whip； bent forward and picked up from the bottom of the cart a
long； thick shaft； he took hold of one end with both hands and with an
effort brandished it over the mare。
〃He'll crush her；〃 was shouted round him。 〃He'll kill her！〃
〃It's my property；〃 shouted Mikolka and brought the shaft down
with a swinging blow。 There was a sound of a heavy thud。
〃Thrash her； thrash her！ Why have you stopped？〃 shouted voices in
the crowd。
And Mikolka swung the shaft a second time and it fell a second
time on the spine of the luckless mare。 She sank back on her haunches；
but lurched forward and tugged forward with all her force； tugged
first on one side and then on the other； trying to move the cart。
But the six whips were attacking her in all directions； and the
shaft was raised again and fell upon her a third time； then a
fourth； with heavy measured blows。 Mikolka was in a fury that he could
not kill her at one blow。
〃She's a tough one；〃 was shouted in the crowd。
〃She'll fall in a minute； mates； there will soon be an end of
her；〃 said an admiring spectator in the crowd。
〃Fetch an axe to her！ Finish her off；〃 shouted a third。
〃I'll show you！ Stand off；〃 Mikolka screamed frantically； he threw
down the shaft； stooped down in the cart and picked up an iron
crowbar。 〃Look out；〃 he shouted； and with all his might he dealt a
stunning blow at the poor mare。 The blow fell； the mare staggered；
sank back； tried to pull； but the bar fell again with a swinging
blow on her back and she fell on the ground like a log。
〃Finish her off；〃 shouted Mikolka and he leapt beside himself； out
of the cart。 Several young men； also flushed with drink； seized
anything they could come across… whips； sticks； poles； and ran to
the dying mare。 Mikolka stood on one side and began dealing random
blows with the crowbar。 The mare stretched out her head； drew a long
breath and died。
〃You butchered her；〃 some one shouted in the crowd。
〃Why wouldn't she gallop then？〃
〃My property！〃 shouted Mikolka； with bloodshot eyes； brandishing the
bar in his hands。 He stood as though regretting that he had nothing
more to beat。
〃No mistake about it； you are not a Christian；〃 many voices were
shouting in the crowd。
But the poor boy； beside himself； made his way screaming through the
crowd to the sorrel nag； put his arms round her bleeding dead head and
kissed it； kissed the eyes and kissed the lips。。。。 Then he jumped up
and flew in a frenzy with his little fists out at Mikolka。 At that
instant his father who had been running after him； snatched him up and
carried him out of the crowd。
〃Come along； come！ Let us go home；〃 he said to him。
〃Father！ Why did they。。。 kill。。。 the poor horse！〃 he sobbed； but his
voice broke and the words came in shrieks from his panting chest。
〃They are drunk。。。。 They are brutal。。。 it's not our business！〃
said his father。 He put his arms round his father but he felt
choked； choked。 He tried to draw a breath； to cry out… and woke up。
He waked up； gasping for breath； his hair soaked with
perspiration； and stood up in terror。
〃Thank God； that was only a dream；〃 he said； sitting down under a
tree and drawing deep breaths。 〃But what is it？ Is it some fever
coming on？ Such a hideous dream！〃
He felt utterly broken； darkness and confusion were in his soul。
He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned his head on his hands。
〃Good God！〃 he cried； 〃can it be； can it be； that I shall really
take an axe； that I shall strike her on the head； split her skull
open。。。 that I shall tread in the sticky warm blood； break the lock；
steal and tremble； hide； all spattered in the blood。。。 with the
axe。。。。 Good God； can it be？〃
He was shaking like a leaf as he said this。
〃But why am I going on like this？〃 he continued； sitting up again；
as it were in profound amazement。 〃I knew that I could never bring
myself to it； so what have I been torturing myself for till now？
Yesterday； yesterday； when I went to make that。。。 experiment；
yesterday I realised completely that I could never bear to do it。。。。
Why am I going over it again； then？ Why am I hesitating？ As I came
down the stairs yesterday； I said myself that it was base；
loathsome； vile； vile。。。 the very thought of it made me feel sick
and filled me with horror。
〃No； I couldn't do it； I couldn't do it！ Granted； granted that there
is no flaw in all that reasoning； that all that I have concluded
this last month is clear as day； true as arithmetic。。。。 My God！ Anyway
I couldn't bring myself to it！ I couldn't do it； I couldn't do it！
Why； why then am I still。。。？〃
He rose to his feet； looked round in wonder as though surprised at
finding himself in this place； and went towards the bridge。 He was
pale； his eyes glowed； he was exhausted in every limb； but he seemed
suddenly to breathe more easily。 He felt he had cast off that
fearful burden that had so long been weighing upon him； and all at
once there was a sense of relief and peace in his soul。 〃Lord；〃 he
prayed； 〃show me my path… I renounce that accursed。。。 dream of mine。〃
Crossing the bridge； he gazed quietly and calmly at the Neva； at the
glowing red sun setting in the glowing sky。 In spite of his weakness
he was not conscious of fatigue。 It was as though an abscess that
had been forming for a month past in his heart had suddenly broken。
Freedom； freedom！ He was free from that spell； that sorcery； that
obsession！
Later on； when he recalled that time and all that happened to him
during those days； minute by minute； point by point； he was
superstitiously impressed by one circumstance； which though in
itself not very exceptional； always seemed to him afterwards the
predestined turning…point of his fate。 He could never understand and
explain to himself why； when he was tired and worn out； when it
would have been more convenient for him to go home by the shortest and
most direct way； he had returned by the Hay Market where he had no
need to go。 It was obviously and quite unnecessarily out of his way；
though not much so。 It is true that it happened to him dozens of times
to return home without noticing what streets he passed through。 But
why； he was always asking himself； why had such an important； such a
decisive and at the same time such an absolutely chance meeting
happened in the Hay Market （where he had moreover no reason to go）
at the very hour； the very minute of his life when he was just in
the very mood and in the very circumstances in which that meeting
was able to exert the gravest and most decisive influence on his whole
destiny？ As though it had been lying in wait for him on purpose！
It was about nine o'clock when he crossed the Hay Market。 At the
tables and the barrows； at the booths and the shops； all the market
people were closing their establishments or clearing away and
packing up their wares and； like their customers； were going home。
Ragpickers and costermongers of all kinds were crowding round the
taverns in the dirty and stinking courtyards of the Hay Market。
Raskolnikov particularly liked this place and the neighbouring alleys；
when he wandered aimlessly in the streets。 Here his rags did not
attract contemptuous attention； and one could walk about in any attire
without scandalising people。 At the corner of an alley a huckster
and his wife had two tables set out with tapes； thread； cotton
handkerchiefs； &c。 They； too； had got up to go home； but were
lingering in conversation with a friend； who had just come up to them。
This friend was Lizaveta Ivanovna； or； as every one called her；
Lizaveta； the younger sister of the old pawnbroker； Alyona Ivanovna；
whom Raskolnikov had visited the previous day to pawn his watch and
make his experiment。。。。 He already knew all about Lizaveta and she
knew him a little too。 She was a single woman of about thirty…five；
tall； clumsy； timid； submissive and almost idiotic。 She was a complete
slave and went in fear and trembling of her sister； who made her
work day and night； and even beat her。 She was standing with a
bundle before the huckster and his wife； listening earnestly and
doubtfully。 They were talking of something with special warmth。 The
moment Raskolnikov caught sight of her； he was overcome by a strange
sensation as it were of intense astonishment； though there was nothing
astonishing about this meeting。
〃You could make up your mind for yourself； Lizaveta
