第一章
“怎么样，彼得？还看不见吗？”一位四十岁刚刚出头的老爷问道。这是1859年5月20日，他穿着一件满是尘土的大衣和一条方格裤子，光着脑袋，从××公路边一家旅店里出来，走到低低的台阶上。被问的人是他的仆人，那是一个年轻的、脸蛋胖胖的小伙子，下巴上长着些许浅白色茸毛，一对小眼睛呆滞无神。
仆人身上的一切，不管是戴在耳朵上的绿松石耳环，还是抹了油的、色彩斑斓的头发，还是彬彬有礼的举止，都显示出这个人属于时髦的、先进的一代，他顺从地朝路上望了一眼，回答道：“看不见，连一点儿影儿都没有呢。”
“看不见吗？”老爷又问了一次。
“看不见。”仆人又回答了一次。
老爷叹了口气，便坐到一条小板凳上。当他弯着两条小腿坐着，若有所思地打量着四周的时候，我们把他给读者作一介绍。
他叫尼古拉彼得罗维奇基尔萨诺夫。在离旅店十五俄里的地方，他有一片很好的领地，这片领地有两百名农奴，或者按照他跟农民划定地界、创办“农场”以后的说法，有两千俄亩土地。他的父亲，一个参加过1812年战斗的将军，是个没有多少文化的大老粗，但却是个没有恶行的俄国人。他在军队里辛辛苦苦地干了一辈子，先后当过旅长和师长，经常驻扎在外省，由于官高位显，他在那些地方起着相当重要的作用。尼古拉彼得罗维奇像他的哥哥帕维尔关于帕维尔的情况以后再谈一样，出生在俄国南方，十四岁以前在家里受教育，身边都是些庸俗无聊的家庭教师、放纵不羁而又卑躬屈节的副官，以及团里的和司令部的其他人物。他的母亲出身科利亚津家族，闺名叫Agathe，但当了将军夫人以后便叫作阿加福克列娅库兹明尼什娜基尔萨诺娃，属于“喜欢发号施令的官太太”之列。她头上戴的是十分华丽的包发帽，身上穿的是窸窣作响的丝绸衣服，在教堂里她总是最先走到十字架跟前；讲起话来嗓门很大，而且滔滔不绝；早晨她让孩子们吻她的手，晚上孩子们临睡前她给他们祝福——总之，她的日子过得称心如意。作为将军的儿子，尼古拉彼得罗维奇——尽管他不仅不以勇敢出众，而且还得了个“胆小鬼”的绰号——应当像他哥哥帕维尔那样去服兵役；然而就在获悉关于他的任命一事的当天，他摔断了一条腿，卧床达两个月之久，一辈子成了“瘸子”。父亲对他不再抱什么希望，让他走文官之路。他刚到十八岁，父亲就把他带到彼得堡，让他进了大学。那个时候，正好他的哥哥成了近卫团的军官。两个年轻人合住一套房子，并且偶尔受到身为大官的表舅伊里亚科利亚津的监督。他们的父亲回到了自己的师里和自己的妻子那儿，只是偶尔给两个儿子寄来一张张四开的灰色大信纸，上面用奔放的文书体写满了字。这些四开大信纸后面的落款是“陆军少将彼得基尔萨诺夫”，落款周围还精心画了一圈漂亮的、弯弯曲曲的“花边”。1835年，尼古拉彼得罗维奇大学毕业，获得学士学位，同一年，基尔萨诺夫将军因阅兵成绩不佳，被迫退休，带着妻子来到彼得堡闲居。他本来在塔夫利达花园旁边租了一幢房子，并且报名参加了英国俱乐部，可是突然中风而死。阿加福克列娅库兹明尼什娜不久便跟他而去，因为她不习惯首都那种沉闷的生活；她是被退休闲居的烦恼折磨死的。其实，尼古拉彼得罗维奇还在父母生前，便弄得他们颇为伤心，因为他爱上了他的老房东——小官吏普列波罗文斯基的女儿，那是一个容貌秀丽、通常所谓很有修养的少女，她喜 欢读杂志上“科学”栏里那些内容严肃的文章。服丧期刚满，他便跟她结了婚，于是他辞掉了他父亲生前通过关系给他在皇室地产部弄到的职位，跟自己的玛莎过起了快乐幸福的小日子，起初住在林学院附近的一幢别墅里，后来搬到城内一套有洁净的楼梯和淡雅的客厅的漂亮的小房子里，最后迁到乡下，在那儿安家落户，没多久他的儿子阿尔卡季便出世了。小两口的日子过得十分称心，十分平静：他们几乎一直是形影不离，一起看书，在钢琴上四手联弹，唱二重唱歌曲；她种植花卉，饲养家禽；他偶尔出去打猎，管理农事；而阿尔卡季则逐渐长大了——也是又称心，又平静。十年的时间像梦一样消失了。1847年基尔萨诺夫的妻子与世长辞。他险些没经受住这个打击，几个星期之内便变得头发斑白；他已经启程去国外游历，打算稍微散散心……可是就在这时，1848年来临了。他不得已回到乡下，在相当长的时间里无所作为，后来才开始进行农事改革。1855年，他送儿子进了大学；他在彼得堡跟儿子过了三个冬天，几乎足不出户，但却竭力结交阿尔卡季那些年轻的同学。最近这个冬天他无法前往，于是我们在1859年5月看见了他，他已经白发苍苍，身子有点儿发胖，还有点儿驼背。他正在等待像他自己从前那样获得学士学位归来的儿子。
那个仆人出于礼貌，也许还由于不愿意待在老爷的眼前，于是走到大门口，用烟斗抽起烟来。尼古拉彼得罗维奇低下脑袋，朝破旧的台阶打量起来：一只花毛大雏鸡用它那对黄色的大腿迈着坚实的步子，俨乎其然地在台阶上走来走去；一只脏兮兮的母猫装腔作势地蜷伏在栏杆旁边，怀着不友好的态度望着他。太阳火辣辣地照耀着；从旅店昏暗的穿堂里飘来热气腾腾的黑麦面包的阵阵香味。我们的尼古拉彼得罗维奇沉浸在幻想之中。“儿子……学士……阿尔卡沙……”这些字眼在他的脑海里不停地萦回；他试图去想一件别的什么事情，可是那些念头又纷纷回到了脑海。他想起了亡妻……“她没有等到今天！”他沮丧地低语道……一只壮实的瓦灰色鸽子飞到路上，急匆匆地走到井边一个水洼里去喝水。尼古拉彼得罗维奇刚开始打量它，可是他的耳朵已经听到了越来越近的辚辚的车轮声。
“好像是他们来了。”仆人从大门口钻进来报告道。
尼古拉彼得罗维奇霍地站了起来，目不转睛地顺着公路眺望。出现了一辆驿站的三套四轮敞篷马车；一顶大学生制帽的帽圈和一个熟悉、亲切的脸庞在马车里闪了一下……“阿尔卡沙！阿尔卡沙！”基尔萨诺夫叫了起来，一面朝前跑着，一面挥着双手……不一会儿，他的嘴唇便在一个年轻学士的没有胡须的、沾满尘土的、晒得黝黑的面颊上吻了起来。
CHAPTER I
“Well, Piotr, not in sight yet?” was the question asked on May the 20th, 1859, by a gentleman of a little over forty, in a dusty coat and checked trousers, who came out without his hat on to the low steps of the posting station at S—. He was addressing his servant, a chubby young fellow, with whitish down on his chin, and little, lack-lustre eyes.
The servant, in whom everything—the turquoise ring in his ear, the streaky hair plastered with grease, and the civility of his movements—indicated a man of the new, improved generation, glanced with an air of indulgence along the road, and made answer:
“No, sir; not in sight.”
“Not in sight?” repeated his master.
“No, sir,” responded the man a second time.
His master sighed, and sat down on a little bench. We will introduce him to the reader while he sits, his feet tucked under him, gazing thoughtfully round.
His name was Nikolai Petrovitch Kirsanov. He had twelve miles from the posting station, a fine property of two hundred souls, or, as he expressed it—since he had arranged the division of his land with the peasants, and started a “farm”—of nearly five thousand acres. His father, a general in the army, who served in 1812, a coarse, half-educated, but not ill-natured man, a typical Russian, had been in harness all his life, first in command of a brigade, and then of a division, and lived constantly in the provinces, where, by virtue of his rank, he played a fairly important part. Nikolai Petrovitch was born in the south of Russia like his elder brother, Pavel, of whom more hereafter. He was educated at home till he was fourteen, surrounded by cheap tutors, free-and-easy but toadying adjutants, and all the usual regimental and staff set. His mother, one of the Kolyazin family, as a girl called Agathe, but as a general’s wife Agathokleya Kuzminishna Kirsanov, was one of those military ladies who take their ful l share of the duties and dignities of office. She wore gorgeous caps and rustling silk dresses; in church she was the first to advance to the cross; she talked a great deal in a loud voice, let her children kiss her hand in the morning, and gave them her blessing at night—in fact, she got everything out of life she could. Nikolai Petrovitch, as a general’s son—though so far from being distinguished by courage that he even deserved to be called “a funk”—was intended, like his brother Pavel, to enter the army; but he broke his leg on the very day when the news of his commission came, and, after being two months in bed, retained a slight limp to the end of his day. His father gave him up as a bad job, and let him go into the civil service. He took him to Petersburg directly he was eighteen, and placed him in the university. His brother happened about the same time to be made an officer in the Guards. The young men started living together in one set of rooms, under the remote supervision of a cousin on their mother’s side, Ilya Kolyazin, an official of high rank. Their father returned to his division and his wife, and only rarely sent his sons large sheets of grey paper, scrawled over in a bold clerkly hand. At the bottom of these sheets stood in letters, enclosed carefully in scroll-work, the words, “Piotr Kirsanov, General-Major”. In 1835 Nikolai Petrovitch left the university, a graduate, and in the same year General Kirsanov was put on the retired list after an unsuccessful review, and came to Petersburg with his wife to live. He was about to take a house in the Tavrichesky Gardens, and had joined the English club, but he died suddenly of an apoplectic fit. Agathokleya Kuzminishna soon followed him; she could not accustom herself to a dull life in the capital; she was consumed by the ennui of existence away from the regiment. Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch had already, in his parents’ lifetime and to their no slight chagrin, had time to fall in love with the daughter of his landlord, a petty official, Prepo lovensky. She was pretty, and, as it is called, an “advanced” girl; she used to read the serious articles in the “Science” column of the journals. He married her directly the term of mourning was over; and leaving the civil service in which his father had by favour procured him a post, was perfectly blissful with his Masha, first in a country villa near the Lyesny Institute, afterwards in town in a pretty little flat with a clean staircase and a draughty drawing-room, and then in the country, where he settled finally, and where in a short time a son, Arkady, was born to him. The young couple lived very happily and peacefully; they were scarcely ever apart; they read together, sang and played duets together on the piano; she tended her flowers and looked after the poultry-yard; he sometimes went hunting, and busied himself with the estate, while Arkady grew and grew in the same happy and peaceful way. Ten years passed like a dream. In 1847 Kirsanov’s wife died. He almost succumbed to this blow; in a few we eks his hair was grey; he was getting ready to go abroad, if possible to distract his mind... but then came the year 1848. He returned unwillingly to the country, and, after a rather prolonged period of inactivity, began to take an interest in improvements in the management of his land. In 1855 he brought his son to the university; he spent three winters with him in Petersb
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