安东·契诃夫/Anton Chekhov
安东·契诃夫（1860—1904），19世纪末俄国伟大的批判现实主义作家，情趣隽永、文笔犀利的幽默讽刺大师，短篇小说巨匠，著名的剧作家。他的作品大都与衰退时期的俄国有关。人们把他比作法国的莫泊桑。他能够抓住生活中的一个片段，寥寥数语，就可以把一个人物的性格和心灵刻画得入木三分。其代表作《变色龙》《套中人》堪称俄国文学史上精湛而完美的艺术珍品。
The police superintendent Otchumyelov is walking across the market square wearing a new overcoat and carrying a parcel under his arm. A red-haired policeman strides after him with a sieve full of confiscated gooseberries in his hands. There is silence all around. Not a soul in the square... The open doors of the shops and taverns look out upon God's world disconsolately, like hungry mouths; there is not even a beggar near them.
"So you bite, you damned brute?" Otchumyelov hears suddenly."Lads, don't let him go! Biting is prohibited nowadays! Hold him! ah...ah!"
There is the sound of a dog yelping. Otchumyelov looks in the direction of the sound and sees a dog, hopping on three legs and looking about her, run out of Pitchugin's timber-yard. A man in a starched cotton shirt, with his waistcoat unbuttoned, is chasing her. He runs after her, and throwing his body forward falls down and seizes the dog by her hind legs. Once more there is a yelping and a shout of"Don't let go!" Sleepy countenances are protruded from the shops, and soon a crowd, which seems to have sprung out of the earth, is gathered round the timber-yard.
"It looks like a row, your honour..." says the policeman.
Otchumyelov makes a half turn to the left and strides towards the crowd. He sees the aforementioned man in the unbuttoned waistcoat standing close by the gate of the timber-yard, holding his right hand in the air and displaying a bleeding finger to the crowd. On his halfdrunken face there is plainly written: "I'll pay you out, you rogue!" and indeed the very finger has the look of a flag of victory. In this man Otchumyelov recognizes Hryukin, the goldsmith. The culprit who has caused the sensation, a white borzoy puppy with a sharp muzzle and a yellow patch on her back, is sitting on the ground with her fore-paws outstretched in the middle of the crowd, trembling all over. There is an expression of misery and terror in her tearful eyes.
"What's it all about?" Otchumyelov inquires, pushing his way through the crowd. "What are you here for? Why are you waving your finger? Who was it shouted?"
"I was walking along here, not interfering with anyone, your honour," Hryukin begins, coughing into his fist. "I was talking about firewood to Mitry Mitritch, when this low brute for no rhyme or reason bit my finger...You must excuse me, I am a working man... Mine is fine work. I must have damages, for I shan't be able to use this finger for a week, may be...It's not even the law, your honour, that one should put up with it from a beast...If everyone is going to be bitten, life won't be worth living..."
"H'm. Very good," says Otchumyelov sternly, coughing and raising his eyebrows. "Very good. Whose dog is it? I won't let this pass! I'll teach them to let their dogs run all over the place! It's time these gentry were looked after, if they won't obey the regulations! When he's fined, the blackguard, I'll teach him what it means to keep dogs and such stray cattle! I'll give him a lesson! ...Yeldyrin," cries the superintendent, addressing the policeman, "find out whose dog this is and draw up a report! And the dog must be strangled. Without delay! It's sure to be mad...Whose dog is it, I ask?"
"I fancy it's General Zhigalov's," says someone in the crowd.
"General Zhigalov's, h'm...Help me off with my coat, Yeldyrin...it's frightfully hot! It must be a sign of rain...There's one thing I can't make out, how it came to bite you?" Otchumyelov turns to Hryukin, "Surely it couldn't reach your finger. It's a little dog, and you are a great hulking fellow! You must have scratched your finger with a nail, and then the idea struck you to get damages for it. We all know...your sort! I know you devils!"
"He put a cigarette in her face, your honour, for a joke, and she had the sense to snap at him...He is a nonsensical fellow, your honour!"
"That's a lie, Squinteye! You didn't see, so why tell lies about it? His honour is a wise gentleman, and will see who is telling lies and who is telling the truth, as in God's sight...And if I am lying let the court decide. It's written in the law...We are all equal nowadays. My own brother is in the gendarmes... let me tell you..."
"Don't argue!"
"No, that's not the General's dog," says the policeman, with profound conviction, "the General hasn't got one like that. His are mostly setters."
"Do you know that for a fact?"
"Yes, your honour."
"I know it, too. The General has valuable dogs, thoroughbred, and this is goodness knows what! No coat, no shape...A low creature. And to keep a dog like that! ...where's the sense of it. If a dog like that were to turn up in Petersburg or Moscow, do you know what would happen? They would not worry about the law, they would strangle it in a twinkling! You've been injured, Hryukin, and we can't let the matter drop...We must give them a lesson! It is high time!"
"Yet maybe it is the General's," says the policeman, thinking aloud. "It's not written on its face...I saw one like it the other day in his yard."
"It is the General's, that's certain!" says a voice in the crowd.
"H'm, help me on with my overcoat, Yeldyrin, my lad...the wind's getting up...I am cold... You take it to the General's, and inquire there. Say I found it and sent it. And tell them not to let it out into the street...It may be a valuable dog, and if every swine goes sticking a cigar in its mouth, it will soon be ruined. A dog is a delicate animal...And you put your hand down, you blockhead. It's no use your displaying your fool of a finger. It's your own fault..."
"Here comes the General's cook, ask him...Hi, Prohor! Come here, my dear man! Look at this dog...Is it one of yours?"
"What an idea! We have never had one like that!"
"There's no need to waste time asking," says Otchumyelov. "It's a stray dog! There's no need to waste time talking about it...Since he says it's a stray dog, a stray dog it is...It must be destroyed, that's all about it."
"It is not our dog," Prohor goes on. "It belongs to the General's brother, who arrived the other day. Our master does not care for hounds. But his honour is fond of them..."
"You don't say his Excellency's brother is here? Vladimir Ivanitch?" inquires Otchumyelov, and his whole face beams with an ecstatic smile. "'Well, I never! And I didn't know! Has he come on a visit?"
"Yes."
"Well, I never...He couldn't stay away from his brother...And there I didn't know! So this is his honour's dog? Delighted to hear it...Take it. It's not a bad pup...A lively creature...Snapped at this fellow's finger! Ha-ha-ha...Come, why are you shivering? Rrr...Rrrr...The rogue's angry...a nice little pup."
Prohor calls the dog, and walks away from the timber-yard with her. The crowd laughs at Hryukin.
"I'll make you smart yet!" Otchumyelov threatens him, and wrapping himself in his greatcoat, goes on his way across the square.
警官奥楚蔑洛夫穿着崭新的军大衣，胳膊下夹着小包，正步行穿过市集的广场。一个红头发的警察大步流星地跟在他的身后，手里拿着个筛子，里面盛满了没收来的醋栗。广场四周静悄悄的，连个人影儿都没有……商店和酒馆的门如同一张张饥饿的嘴巴，无精打采地向上帝创造的这个世界敞开着，店门附近甚至连一个乞丐都没有。
“你竟敢咬人，该死的东西？”奥楚蔑洛夫突然听到了吵闹声，“伙计们，别让它跑了！如今咬人可不行！抓住它！哎哟……哎哟！”
狗狂叫了起来。奥楚蔑洛夫闻声望去，只见从商人皮楚金的木材场里窜出来一只狗，那狗用三条腿吃力地跑着，还不时地四处张望。一个男子穿着浆棉布衬衫，外面套一件没系扣子的马甲，在后边紧追着这条狗。他往前一跃，扑倒在地，抓住了狗的后腿。紧接着又传来了狗的狂吠声和人的叫喊声：“别让它跑了！”一张张带着睡意的脸从各个小铺里纷纷探了出来，人们像是从地底下钻出来似的，马上围到了木材场门口。
“看起来出乱子了，长官！……”警察说。
奥楚蔑洛夫微微向左一转，迈步走向人群。他看到先前那个被狗追的敞开马甲的人，站在木材场门口，举着右手，向人群展示那只被狗咬了的血淋淋的手指。他半醉的脸似乎在向人群示意：“我要扒了你的皮，你这个混蛋！”而那根手指头恰似一面胜利的旗帜。奥楚蔑洛夫认出了这个人，他是金匠赫留金。这场骚乱的罪魁祸首是一只长着尖嘴巴，背后还有一块黄色斑点的白毛俄罗斯小猎狗。此时它正坐在人群中间的空地上，前腿伸开，浑身颤抖，泪汪汪的双眼露出痛苦和恐惧的表情。
“出什么事了？”奥楚蔑洛夫挤到人群中，问道，“你在这儿干什么呢？你干吗举着那手指头？是谁在大吵大嚷呢？”
“我走路走得好好的，没妨碍任何人，警官。”赫留金把空拳头凑到嘴边咳嗽着说，“我正跟米特利·米特利奇谈木柴的事，突然这个畜生无缘无故把我手指头咬了一口……请原谅我，我是个干活人……而且干的都是细致活。我现在受伤了，最起码一周不能用这只手来工作，所以我请求赔付……尊敬的警官先生，也许法律并没有相关条款，那么人受了畜生的害就该忍气吞声吗？……要是人人都被狗咬，活在这世上还有什么意思了……”
“嗯！那是，”奥楚蔑洛夫咳嗽着，扬了扬眉毛严肃地说，“那是。这是谁家的狗呀？这种事我可不能坐视不管。我要给那些放狗出来闯祸的人点颜色看看！也该管管那些不愿遵规守纪的老爷们了！等到挨罚了，这混蛋才知道把狗这些牲畜放出来有什么下场！我一定要教训教训他……叶尔狄林，”警官命令警察道，“你，去调查一下这是谁家的狗，然后报告上来！得打死这条狗，不得延误！这一定是条疯狗……我问你们：这是谁家的狗？”
“好像是席加洛夫将军家的！”人群里有人说道。
“席加洛夫将军家的？哦！……叶尔狄林，帮我把大衣脱掉……太热了！一定是要下雨了……有件事我不明白，它怎么能咬到你呢？”奥楚蔑洛夫转身对着赫留金继续说，“它不可能够得到你的手指，它只是只小狗，而你却是个那么高大的家伙！你一定是用钉子把手指划破的，而后却异想天开地想要狗主人给你赔偿。我们都知道……你的伎俩！你这种可恶的人啊！”
“他把雪茄戳到小狗的脸上，寻它开心，而它不甘心被他戏弄……他是个无聊的家伙，警官！”
“胡说八道，独眼龙！你眼睛看不见，为什么胡说？警官是个英明人，看得出来谁在撒谎，谁在说实话，公正的上帝也看在眼里……我是否在撒谎，让调解法官去做裁定。法律上写得很清楚……现如今法律面前，人人平等……不瞒您说，……我弟弟就是个宪兵……”
“别废话！”
“不，这不是将军家的狗。”警察肯定地说，“将军家没有这样的狗，他家的狗大多是塞特种狗。”
“你确定吗？”
“我确定，警官。”
“我也知道，将军家的狗都是名贵的良种，而这条呢，鬼才知道是什么东西！皮色不好，样子也不好看……下贱的家伙……你也不想想，他老人家会养这么一条狗吗？要是这样的一条狗出现在彼得堡或莫斯科，你知道会有什么下场吗？那儿才不会顾及什么法律呢，眨眼工夫就让它断气！赫留金，你受苦了，这件事不能放任不管……该给它们一个教训了！是时候了！”
“不过也有可能是将军家的狗……”警察想了想，大声地说道。“它是谁家的又没写在脸上……我前几天在他家院子里见过这么一条狗。”
“是将军家的，没错！”人群里有人说。
“嗯！叶尔狄林，帮我把大衣穿上吧……起风了……怪冷的……你带着这条狗到将军家问一下。你说是我找到它，派你送去的……告诉他们以后不要再把狗放到街上来。它或许是条名贵的狗，如果每个卑鄙的家伙都拿雪茄去戳它，要不了多久它就会被作践死的。狗是娇贵的动物嘛……把手放下，你这个蠢货！不必把你的蠢手指头摆出来！这都是你的错……”
“将军家的厨师来了，问问他吧……喂，普罗霍尔！过来，亲爱的！看看这条狗……是你们家的吗？”
“竟瞎说！我们从来也没养过这样的狗！”
“那就没必要再浪费时间了，”奥楚蔑洛夫说，“这是条野狗！少废话了……既然他说不是他家的，那它就是条野狗……弄死它算了。”
“这不是我们家的狗，”普罗霍尔继续说，“是将军哥哥的狗，他前几天到我们这儿了。将军不喜欢这种狗，他哥哥却喜欢……”
“难道说，他老人家的哥哥，符拉季米尔·伊凡内奇来了？”奥楚蔑洛夫满脸堆笑地问道，“哦，天啊！不得了了，我还不知道呢！他要在这住一段时间吧？”
“是的。”
“哦，天啊！……他可别走了……我还不知道他来呢！那么这是他老人家的狗了？很高兴听到这些……把它带回去吧。它很不错……一只活泼可爱的小狗……它把这家伙的手指咬了一口！哈哈哈！……咦，你为什么发抖呢？呜呜……呜呜。这淘气鬼生气了……多可爱的小狗。”
普罗霍尔把狗叫过去，带它离开了木材场。那群人都嘲笑着赫留金。
“我早晚得收拾你！”奥楚蔑洛夫威胁他道，然后裹紧大衣，径自穿过市集的广场走了。
心灵小语
《变色龙》是契诃夫早期创作的一篇讽刺小说。在这篇著名的小说里，他以精湛的艺术手法，塑造了一个专横跋扈、欺下媚上、看风使舵的沙皇专制制度走狗的典型形象，具有广泛的艺术概括性。
W词汇笔记
superintendent [,sju:p?rin'tend?nt] n. 负责人；主管；指挥者
例 Frank: This is the superintendent! Are you in there, Henry?
弗兰克：我是管理员，你在家吗，亨利？
rogue [r?uɡ] n. 小淘气；流氓；凶猛的离群兽
例 He is a regular rogue.
他是个不折不扣的流氓。
fancy ['f?nsi] v. 设想；喜爱；想象
例 I fancy it's going to rain today.
我看今天要下雨。
cigar [si'gɑ:] n. 雪茄烟
例 She lit a cigar with match.
她用火柴点燃了一支雪茄。
S小试身手
狗狂叫了起来。
译____________________________________________
我要给那些放狗出来闯祸的人点颜色看看！
译____________________________________________
不必把你的蠢手指头摆出来！这都是你的错……
译____________________________________________
P短语家族
... and throwing his body forward falls down and seizes the dog by her hind legs.
fall down：跌倒；失败；倒塌
造____________________________________________
They would not worry about the law.
worry about：焦虑……；担心……
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