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Chapter 23 - A brawl1 among workmen
From an unfinished house on the Varvarka, the ground floor of which was a dramshop, came drunken shouts and songs. On benches round the tables in a dirty little room sat some ten factory hands. Tipsy and perspiring2, with dim eyes and wide-open mouths, they were all laboriously3 singing some song or other. They were singing discordantly4, arduously5, and with great effort, evidently not because they wished to sing, but because they wanted to show they were drunk and on a spree. One, a tall, fair-haired lad in a clean blue coat, was standing6 over the others. His face with its fine straight nose would have been handsome had it not been for his thin, compressed, twitching7 lips and dull, gloomy, fixed8 eyes. Evidently possessed9 by some idea, he stood over those who were singing, and solemnly and jerkily flourished above their heads his white arm with the sleeve turned up to the elbow, trying unnaturally10 to spread out his dirty fingers. The sleeve of his coat kept slipping down and he always carefully rolled it up again with his left hand, as if it were most important that the sinewy11 white arm he was flourishing should be bare. In the midst of the song cries were heard, and fighting and blows in the passage and porch. The tall lad waved his arm.
“Stop it!” he exclaimed peremptorily12. “There’s a fight, lads!” And, still rolling up his sleeve, he went out to the porch.
The factory hands followed him. These men, who under the leadership of the tall lad were drinking in the dramshop that morning, had brought the publican some skins from the factory and for this had had drink served them. The blacksmiths from a neighboring smithy, hearing the sounds of revelry in the tavern13 and supposing it to have been broken into, wished to force their way in too and a fight in the porch had resulted.
The publican was fighting one of the smiths at the door, and when the workmen came out the smith, wrenching14 himself free from the tavern keeper, fell face downward on the pavement.
The lad with the turned-up sleeve gave the smith a blow in the face and cried wildly: “They’re fighting us, lads!”
At that moment the first smith got up and, scratching his bruised16 face to make it bleed, shouted in a tearful voice: “Police! Murder! . . . They’ve killed a man, lads!”
“Oh, gracious me, a man beaten to death — killed! . . . ” screamed a woman coming out of a gate close by.
A crowd gathered round the bloodstained smith.
“Haven’t you robbed people enough — taking their last shirts?” said a voice addressing the publican. “What have you killed a man for, you thief?”
The tall lad, standing in the porch, turned his bleared eyes from the publican to the smith and back again as if considering whom he ought to fight now.
“I daresay you would like to bind me!” shouted the publican, pushing away the men advancing on him, and snatching his cap from his head he flung it on the ground.
As if this action had some mysterious and menacing significance, the workmen surrounding the publican paused in indecision.
“I know the law very well, mates! I’ll take the matter to the captain of police. You think I won’t get to him? Robbery is not permitted to anybody now a days!” shouted the publican, picking up his cap.
“Come along then! Come along then!” the publican and the tall young fellow repeated one after the other, and they moved up the street together.
The bloodstained smith went beside them. The factory hands and others followed behind, talking and shouting.
At the corner of the Moroseyka, opposite a large house with closed shutters18 and bearing a bootmaker’s signboard, stood a score of thin, worn-out, gloomy-faced bootmakers, wearing overalls19 and long tattered20 coats.
“He should pay folks off properly,” a thin workingman, with frowning brows and a straggly beard, was saying.
“But he’s sucked our blood and now he thinks he’s quit of us. He’s been misleading us all the week and now that he’s brought us to this pass he’s made off.”
On seeing the crowd and the bloodstained man the workman ceased speaking, and with eager curiosity all the bootmakers joined the moving crowd.
“Where are all the folks going?”
“Why, to the police, of course!”
“I say, is it true that we have been beaten?” “And what did you think? Look what folks are saying.”
Questions and answers were heard. The publican, taking advantage of the increased crowd, dropped behind and returned to his tavern.
The tall youth, not noticing the disappearance21 of his foe22, waved his bare arm and went on talking incessantly23, attracting general attention to himself. It was around him that the people chiefly crowded, expecting answers from him to the questions that occupied all their minds.
“He must keep order, keep the law, that’s what the government is there for. Am I not right, good Christians24?” said the tall youth, with a scarcely perceptible smile. “He thinks there’s no government! How can one do without government? Or else there would be plenty who’d rob us.”
“Why talk nonsense?” rejoined voices in the crowd. “Will they give up Moscow like this? They told you that for fun, and you believed it! Aren’t there plenty of troops on the march? Let him in, indeed! That’s what the government is for. You’d better listen to what people are saying,” said some of the mob pointing to the tall youth.
By the wall of China-Town a smaller group of people were gathered round a man in a frieze25 coat who held a paper in his hand.
“An ukase, they are reading an ukase! Reading an ukase!” cried voices in the crowd, and the people rushed toward the reader.
The man in the frieze coat was reading the broadsheet of August 31 When the crowd collected round him he seemed confused, but at the demand of the tall lad who had pushed his way up to him, he began in a rather tremulous voice to read the sheet from the beginning.
“Early tomorrow I shall go to his Serene26 Highness,” he read (“Sirin Highness,” said the tall fellow with a triumphant27 smile on his lips and a frown on his brow), “to consult with him to act, and to aid the army to exterminate28 these scoundrels. We too will take part . . . ” the reader went on, and then paused (“Do you see,” shouted the youth victoriously29, “he’s going to clear up the whole affair for you. . . . ”), “in destroying them, and will send these visitors to the devil. I will come back to dinner, and we’ll set to work. We will do, completely do, and undo30 these scoundrels.”
The last words were read out in the midst of complete silence. The tall lad hung his head gloomily. It was evident that no one had understood the last part. In particular, the words “I will come back to dinner,” evidently displeased31 both reader and audience. The people’s minds were tuned32 to a high pitch and this was too simple and needlessly comprehensible — it was what any one of them might have said and therefore was what an ukase emanating33 from the highest authority should not say.
They all stood despondent34 and silent. The tall youth moved his lips and swayed from side to side.
“We should ask him . . . that’s he himself?” . . . “Yes, ask him indeed! . . . Why not? He’ll explain” . . . voices in the rear of the crowd were suddenly heard saying, and the general attention turned to the police superintendent35’s trap which drove into the square attended by two mounted dragoons.
The superintendent of police, who had that morning by Count Rostopchin’s orders to burn the barges36 and had in connection with that matter acquired a large sum of money which was at that moment in his pocket, on seeing a crowd bearing down upon him told his coachman to stop.
“What people are these?” he shouted to the men, who were moving singly and timidly in the direction of his trap.
“What people are these?” he shouted again, receiving no answer.
“Your honor . . . ” replied the shopman in the frieze coat, “your honor, in accord with the proclamation of his highest excellency the count, they desire to serve, not sparing their lives, and it is not any kind of riot, but as his highest excellence37 said . . . ”
“The count has not left, he is here, and an order will be issued concerning you,” said the superintendent of police. “Go on!” he ordered his coachman.
The crowd halted, pressing around those who had heard what the superintendent had said, and looking at the departing trap.
The superintendent of police turned round at that moment with a scared look, said something to his coachman, and his horses increased their speed.
“It’s a fraud, lads! Lead the way to him, himself!” shouted the tall youth. “Don’t let him go, lads! Let him answer us! Keep him!” shouted different people and the people dashed in pursuit of the trap.
Following the superintendent of police and talking loudly the crowd went in the direction of the Lubyanka Street.
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1
brawl
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| n.大声争吵，喧嚷；v.吵架，对骂 | |
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perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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discordantly
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| adv.不一致地，不和谐地 | |
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arduously
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| adv.费力地，严酷地 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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8
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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11
sinewy
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| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
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12
peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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13
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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14
wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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15
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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16
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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17
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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18
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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19
overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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20
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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21
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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22
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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23
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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24
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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25
frieze
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| n.(墙上的)横饰带，雕带 | |
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26
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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27
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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28
exterminate
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| v.扑灭，消灭，根绝 | |
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29
victoriously
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| adv.获胜地，胜利地 | |
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30
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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31
displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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32
tuned
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| adj.调谐的，已调谐的v.调音( tune的过去式和过去分词 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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33
emanating
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| v.从…处传出，传出( emanate的现在分词 )；产生，表现，显示 | |
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34
despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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35
superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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36
barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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37
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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