"Oh, my dear, " hegroaned at last, "how can you be so cruel?"

"I can't help myself,Dirk, " she answered.

"I've worshipped you asno woman was ever worshipped before. If in anything I did I displeased you, whydidn't you tell me, and I'd have changed. I've done everything I could for you."

She did not answer. Her facewas set, and he saw that he was only boring her. She put on a coat and her hat.She moved towards the door, and he saw that in a moment she would be gone. Hewent up to her quickly and fell on his knees before her, seizing her hands: heabandoned all self-respect.

"Oh, don't go, mydarling. I can't live without you; I shall kill myself. If I've done anythingto offend you I beg you to forgive me. Give me another chance. I'll try harderstill to make you happy. "

"Get up, Dirk. You'remaking yourself a perfect fool. "

He staggered to his feet,but still he would not let her go.

"Where are yougoing?" he said hastily. "You don't know what Strickland's place is like.You can't live there. It would be awful. "

"If I don't care, Idon't see why you should. "

"Stay a minute longer.I must speak. After all, you can't grudge me that. "

"What is the good? I'vemade up my mind. Nothing that you can say will make me alter it. "

He gulped, and put his handto his heart to ease its painful beating.

“啊，我的亲爱的，”最后他呻吟着说，“你怎么能这样残忍啊？”

“我也由不得自己，戴尔克，”她回答。

“我崇拜你，世界上再也没有哪个女人受过人们这样的崇拜。如果我做了什么事使你不高兴，为什么你不对我讲？只要你说了，我一定会改过来的。为了你，凡是我能做到的我都做了。”

她并没有回答。她的脸上一点表情也没有，他看到自己只不过在惹她生厌。她穿上一件外衣，戴上帽子，向门口走去。他明白再过一分钟他就再也见不到她了，于是很快地走到她前面，跪倒在地上，抓住她的两只手；他什么脸面也不顾了。

“啊，不要走，亲爱的。没有你我就活不下去了，我会自杀的。如果我做了什么事惹恼了你，我求你原谅我。再给我一次机会吧。我会更努力地使你幸福的。”

“站起来，戴尔克。你简直丢尽丑了。”

他摇摇晃晃地站了起来，但是仍然不放她走。

“你到哪儿去啊？”他急急忙忙地问，“你不知道思特里克兰德住在怎样一个地方。你在那地方是过活不了的。太可怕了。”

“如果我自己都不在乎，与你又有什么相干呢？”

“你再待一会，容我把话说完。不管怎么样，这一点你还可以让我做到吧。”

“那又有什么好处？我已经下了决心了。不管你说什么都改变不了我的主意。”

他抽了一口气，把一只手按在胸脯上，因为心脏跳动得简直让他忍受不了了。

"But you must know thathe'll never make you happy. For your own sake don't go. You don't know whatyou've got to look forward to. "

"It's your fault. Youinsisted on his coming here. "

He turned to Strickland.

"Have mercy on her," he implored him. "You can't let her do anything so mad. "

"She can do as shechooses, " said Strickland. "She's not forced to come. "

"My choice is made," she said, in a dull voice.

Strickland's injurious calmrobbed Stroeve of the rest of his self-control. Blind rage seized him, andwithout knowing what he was doing he flung himself on Strickland. Stricklandwas taken by surprise and he staggered, but he was very strong, even after hisillness, and in a moment, he did not exactly know how, Stroeve found himself onthe floor.

"You funny little man," said Strickland.

Stroeve picked himself up.He noticed that his wife had remained perfectly still, and to be maderidiculous before her increased his humiliation. His spectacles had tumbled offin the struggle, and he could not immediately see them. She picked them up andsilently handed them to him. He seemed suddenly to realise his unhappiness, andthough he knew he was making himself still more absurd, he began to cry. He hidhis face in his hands. The others watched him without a word. They did not movefrom where they stood.

“但是你一定得知道他是永远也不会使你幸福的。为了你自己的缘故，还是不要走吧。你不明白等待你的将是什么。”

“这是你的过错，是你坚持叫他来的。”

施特略夫转向思特里克兰德。

“可怜可怜她吧，”他哀求说，“你不能叫她做出这种发疯的事来。”

“她愿意怎么做就怎么做，”思特里克兰德说，“我并没有强迫她跟着我。”

“我已经决定了。”她用呆板的语调说。

思特里克兰德的这种叫人无名火起的冷静叫施特略夫再也控制不住自己了。一阵狂怒把他攫住；他自己也不知道做的是什么，一下子便扑到思特里克兰德身上。思特里克兰德没有料到这一手，吃了一惊，踉跄后退了一步，但是尽管他久病初愈，还是比施特略夫力气大得多。不到一分钟，施特略夫根本没弄清是怎么回事，已经发现自己躺在地上了。

“你这个小丑。”思特里克兰德骂了一句。

施特略夫挣扎着站起来。他发现自己的妻子声色不动地在一旁站着，当着她的面出这种丑更使他感到丢尽脸面。在同思特里克兰德厮打的时候他的眼镜滑落到地上，一时他看不见落在什么地方。勃朗什把它拾起来，一句话不说地递到他手里。他似乎突然意识到自己的不幸了，虽然他也知道这只会更使自己丢脸，他还是呜呜地哭起来。他用手把脸捂了起来。另外两个人一言不发地看着他，站在一旁连脚步都不挪动。

Stroeve stopped, gasping,and I thought he was going to faint. This was not at all the story I hadexpected him to tell me.

"She was very pale, butshe brought the paper and the string. He didn't say anything. He made theparcel and he whistled a tune. He took no notice of either of us. His eyes hadan ironic smile in them. My heart was like lead. I was afraid something wasgoing to happen, and I wished I hadn't spoken. He looked round for his hat.Then she spoke:

"`I'm going withStrickland, Dirk, ' she said. `I can't live with you any more. '

"I tried to speak, butthe words wouldn't come. Strickland didn't say anything. He went on whistlingas though it had nothing to do with him. "

Stroeve stopped again andmopped his face. I kept quite still. I believed him now, and I was astounded.But all the same I could not understand.

Then he told me, in atrembling voice, with the tears pouring down his cheeks, how he had gone up toher, trying to take her in his arms, but she had drawn away and begged him notto touch her. He implored her not to leave him. He told her how passionately heloved her, and reminded her of all the devotion he had lavished upon her. Hespoke to her of the happiness of their life. He was not angry with her. He didnot reproach her.

"Please let me goquietly, Dirk, " she said at last. "Don't you understand that I loveStrickland? Where he goes I shall go. "

施特略夫停住了，喘着气，我以为他要晕倒了。这根本不是我要他讲给我听的故事。

“她的脸色煞白，但还是把纸同绳子取来了。思特里克兰德一句话也不说，他一面包东西，一面吹着口哨，根本不理会我们两个人。他的眼角里含着讥诮的笑意。我的心沉重得象一块铅块。我担心一定要发生点什么事，非常懊悔刚才提出叫他走的事。他四处望了望，找自己的帽子。这时候勃朗什开口了：

“我同思特里克兰德一起走，戴尔克，”她说。“我不能同你生活下去了。”

“我想说什么，可是一个字也说不出来。思特里克兰德也一句话不说。他继续吹着口哨，仿佛这一切同他都毫不相干似的。”

施特略夫又停了下来，开始揩汗。我默不作声。我现在相信他了，我感到很吃惊。但是我仍然不能理解。

这时候他满面泪痕、声音抖抖索索地对我讲，他如何走到她跟前，想把她搂在怀里，她又如何把身体躲开，不叫他碰到自己。他求她不要离开，告诉她自己是多么爱她，叫她想一想自己对她的一片真情。他谈到他们的幸福生活。他一点也不生她的气。他丝毫也不责怪她。

“请你让我安安静静地走开吧，戴尔克，”最后她说，“你不知道我爱思特里克兰德吗？他到什么地方，我就跟他到什么地方去。”

I supposed that for somereason or other -- and Heaven knows what ingenuity men exercise to tormentthemselves -- Dirk had got it into his head that his wife cared for Strickland,and with his genius for blundering he might quite well have offended her sothat, to anger him, perhaps, she had taken pains to foster his suspicion.

"Look here, " Isaid, "let's go back to your studio. If you've made a fool of yourself youmust eat humble pie. Your wife doesn't strike me as the sort of woman to bearmalice. "

"How can I go back tothe studio?" he said wearily. "They're there. I've left it to them."

"Then it's not yourwife who's left you; it's you who've left your wife. "

"For God's sake don'ttalk to me like that. "

Still I could not take himseriously. I did not for a moment believe what he had told me. But he was invery real distress.

"Well, you've come hereto talk to me about it. You'd better tell me the whole story. "

"This afternoon Icouldn't stand it any more. I went to Strickland and told him I thought he wasquite well enough to go back to his own place. I wanted the studio myself."

"No one but Stricklandwould have needed telling, " I said. "What did he say?"

"He laughed a little;you know how he laughs, not as though he were amused, but as though you were adamned fool, and said he'd go at once. He began to put his things together. Youremember I fetched from his room what I thought he needed, and he asked Blanchefor a piece of paper and some string to make a parcel. "

我猜想，不知为了什么原因——天知道人们如何想尽办法来折磨自己——戴尔克毫无道理地怀疑起自己的妻子爱上了思特里克兰德，因为他最不会处理事情，多半把她惹恼了。而他的妻子为了气他，也就故意想尽方法增加他的疑虑。

“听我说，”我对他说，“咱们一起回你的画室去吧。如果你自己把事办糟了，现在只好去负荆请罪。我认为你的妻子不是那种爱记仇的女人。”

“我怎么能回画室呢？”他有气无力地说，“他们在那里呢。我把屋子让给他们了。”

“这么一说不是你妻子离开了你，是你把她丢了。”

“看在老天面上，别同我说这种话吧。”

我仍然不能把他的话当真。我一点也不相信他告诉我的事，但是他的痛苦却是真真实实的。

“好吧，既然你到这里来是要同我谈这件事，你就从头到尾给我说说吧。”

“今天下午我再也无法忍受了。我走到思特里克兰德跟前，对他讲，我觉得他身体已经完全恢复了，可以回自己的住处去了。我自己要用我的画室。”

“只有思特里克兰德才需要人家明明白白告诉他，”我说。“他怎么说的？”

“他笑了笑。你知道他笑起来是什么样子，让人看起来不象是他觉得有什么事情好笑，而是叫你觉得自己是个大傻瓜。他说他马上就走，说着，就开始收拾东西。你还记得我从他的住处拿来一些我认为他用得着的东西。他叫勃朗什替他找一张纸，一条绳子，准备打一个包。”

I changed my mind: it wasnot liquor that had driven him to this obvious desperation. His face, usuallyso rosy, was now strangely mottled. His hands trembled.

"Has anythinghappened?" I asked.

"My wife has left me."

He could hardly get thewords out. He gave a little gasp, and the tears began to trickle down his roundcheeks. I did not know what to say. My first thought was that she had come tothe end of her forbearance with his infatuation for Strickland, and, goaded bythe latter's cynical behaviour, had insisted that he should be turned out. Iknew her capable of temper, for all the calmness of her manner; and if Stroevestill refused, she might easily have flung out of the studio with vows never toreturn. But the little man was so distressed that I could not smile.

"My dear fellow, don'tbe unhappy. She'll come back. You mustn't take very seriously what women saywhen they're in a passion. "

"You don't understand.She's in love with Strickland. "

"What!" I wasstartled at this, but the idea had no sooner taken possession of me than I sawit was absurd. "How can you be so silly? You don't mean to say you'rejealous of Strickland?" I almost laughed. "You know very well thatshe can't bear the sight of him. "

"You don't understand," he moaned.

"You're an hystericalass, " I said a little impatiently. "Let me give you awhisky-and-soda, and you'll feel better. "

我的想法改变了；他显然不是因为喝了酒才这样嗒然若丧。他的脸平常总是红扑扑的，现在却一块红、一块白，斑斑点点，样子非常奇怪。他的两只手一直在哆嗦。

“出了什么事了吗？”

“我的妻子离开了我了。”

他费了很大力气才把这几个字说出来。他抽噎了一下，眼泪沿着胖乎乎的面颊一滴滴地落下来。我不知道该说些什么。我最初的想法是，她丈夫这种晕头晕脑地对思特里克兰德倾心相待，叫她再也忍受不了了，再加上思特里克兰德总是冷嘲热讽，所以她坚决要把他赶走。我知道，虽然勃朗什表面端庄沉静，但是脾气如果上来，却执拗得可以。假如施特略夫仍然拒绝她的请求，一怒之下，她很可能离开家庭，发誓再不回来。但是不管事实真相如何，看到这个小胖子的痛苦不堪的样子，我实在不忍讥笑他了。

“亲爱的朋友，别难过了。她会回来的。女人们一时说的气话，你千万别太认真。”

“你不了解。她爱上思特里克兰德了。”

“什么！”我吓了一跳；但是我还没有来得及仔细琢磨，就已经觉得这件事太荒谬了。“你怎么能这么傻？难道你是说你在吃思特里克兰德的醋？”我差点笑了出来。“你也知道，思特里克兰德这个人简直叫她无法忍受。”

“你不了解，”他呻吟道。

“你是头歇斯底里的蠢驴，”我有些不耐烦地说。“让我给你喝一杯威士忌苏打你就会好一些了。”

The explanationcame a week later. It was about ten o' clock at night; I had been dining bymyself at a restaurant, and having returned to my small apartment, was sittingin my parlour, reading I heard the cracked tinkling of the bell, and, goinginto the corridor, opened the door. Stroeve stood before me.

"Can Icome in?" he asked.

In the dimnessof the landing I could not see him very well, but there was something in hisvoice that surprised me. I knew he was of abstemious habit or I should havethought he had been drinking. I led the way into my sitting room and asked himto sit down.

"Thank GodI've found you, " he said.

"What'sthe matter?" I asked in astonishment at his vehemence.

I was able nowto see him well. As a rule he was neat in his person, but now his clothes werein disorder. He looked suddenly bedraggled. I was convinced he had beendrinking, and I smiled. I was on the point of chaffing him on his state.

"I didn'tknow where to go, " he burst out. "I came here earlier, but you weren'tin. "

"I dinedlate, " I said.

一个星期以后我知道谜底了。这一天我一个人在外面吃了晚饭，饭后回到我的住处。大约十点左右，我正坐在起居间看书，忽然，门铃暗哑地响起来。我走到过道上，打开门，站在我面前的是施特略夫。

“可以进来吗？”他问。

楼梯口光线很暗，我看不清他的样子，但是他说话的声音却使我吃了一惊。我知道他喝酒从来不过量，否则我会以为他喝醉酒了。我把他领进起居间里，叫他坐下。

“谢天谢地，总算找到你了，”他说。

“怎么回事？”我问；他的激动不安的样子叫我非常吃惊。

进到屋子里面，我可以清清楚楚地打量他了。平时他总是穿戴得干净整齐，这次却衣冠不整，突然给人以邋里邋遢的感觉。我一点也不怀疑了，他一定是喝醉了。我对他笑了笑，准备打趣他两句。

“我不知道该到哪儿去，”他突兀地说了一句，“刚才来了一次，你不在。”

“我今天吃饭晚了，”我说。

"I don'tthink I understand, " I said.

"Stricklandcan't work with anyone else in the studio. "

"Damn itall, it's your studio. That's his lookout. "

He looked at mepitifully. His lips were trembling.

"Whathappened?" I asked, rather sharply.

He hesitatedand flushed. He glanced unhappily at one of the pictures on the wall.

"Hewouldn't let me go on painting. He told me to get out. "

"But whydidn't you tell him to go to hell?"

"He turnedme out. I couldn't very well struggle with him. He threw my hat after me, andlocked the door. "

I was furiouswith Strickland, and was indignant with myself, because Dirk Stroeve cut suchan absurd figure that I felt inclined to laugh.

"But whatdid your wife say?"

"She'dgone out to do the marketing. "

"Is hegoing to let her in?"

"I don'tknow. "

I gazed atStroeve with perplexity. He stood like a schoolboy with whom a master isfinding fault.

"Shall Iget rid of Strickland for you?" I asked.

He gave alittle start, and his shining face grew very red.

"No. You'dbetter not do anything. "

He nodded to meand walked away. It was clear that for some reason he did not want to discussthe matter. I did not understand.

“我不懂你说的话，”我说。

“思特里克兰德身边有人的时候不能工作。”

“去他妈的，那是你的画室啊。他应该自己想办法。”

他凄凄惨惨地看着我，嘴唇抖个不停。

“出了什么事了？”我问，语气很不客气。

他吞吞吐吐地半天没说话，脸涨得通红。他看了看墙上挂的一张画，脸色非常痛苦。

“他不让我画下去。他叫我到外边去。”

“你为什么不叫他滚蛋呢？”

“他把我赶出来了。我不能同他动手打架呀。他把我的帽子随后也扔了出来，把门锁上了。”

思特里克兰德的做法使我气得要命，但是我也挺生自己的气，因为戴尔克·施特略夫扮演了这样一个滑稽角色，我居然憋不住想笑出来。

“你的妻子说什么了？”

“她出去买东西去了。”

“他会不会也不让她进去？”

“我不知道。”

我不解地看着施特略夫。他站在那里，象一个正挨老师训的小学生。

“我去替你把思特里克兰德赶走怎么样？”我问。

他的身体抖动了一下，一张闪闪发光的面孔涨得通红。

“不要。你最好什么也不要做。”

他向我点了点头，便走开了。非常清楚，由于某种原因他不想同我讨论这件事。我不懂他为什么要这样。

Two or threeweeks passed. One morning, having come to a pause in my work, I thought I wouldgive myself a holiday, and I went to the Louvre. I wandered about looking atthe pictures I knew so well, and let my fancy play idly with the emotions theysuggested. I sauntered into the long gallery, and there suddenly saw Stroeve. Ismiled, for his appearance, so rotund and yet so startled, could never fail toexcite a smile, and then as I came nearer I noticed that he seemed singularlydisconsolate. He looked woebegone and yet ridiculous, like a man who has falleninto the water with all his clothes on, and, being rescued from death,frightened still, feels that he only looks a fool. Turning round, he stared atme, but I perceived that he did not see me. His round blue eyes looked harassedbehind his glasses.

"Stroeve," I said.

He gave alittle start, and then smiled, but his smile was rueful.

"Why areyou idling in this disgraceful fashion?" I asked gaily.

"It's along time since I was at the Louvre. I thought I'd come and see if they hadanything new. "

"But youtold me you had to get a picture finished this week. "

"Strickland'spainting in my studio. "

"Well?"

"Isuggested it myself. He's not strong enough to go back to his own place yet. Ithought we could both paint there. Lots of fellows in the Quarter share astudio. I thought it would be fun. I've always thought it would be jolly tohave someone to talk to when one was tired of work. "

He said allthis slowly, detaching statement from statement with a little awkward silence,and he kept his kind, foolish eyes fixed on mine. They were full of tears.

又过了两三个星期。一天早晨，我的工作正好告一段落，我觉得可以放自己一天假，便决定到卢佛尔宫去消磨一天。我在画廊里随便走着，一边欣赏那些我早已非常熟悉的名画，一边任凭我的幻想同这些画幅所激起的感情随意嬉戏。我悠闲地走进长画廊，突然一眼看到了施特略夫。我脸上泛起了笑容，因为他那圆胖的身躯、象受了惊吓似的神情使我每次见到总是要发笑。但是在我走近他以后，我发现他的神情非常沮丧。他的样子凄苦不堪，但又那么滑稽，好象一个穿得衣冠齐楚而失足落水的人被打捞上来以后仍然心怀余悸，生怕别人拿他当笑话看。他转过身来，两眼瞪着我，但是我知道他并没有看见我。他的一双碧蓝的圆眼睛在眼镜片后面充满了忧伤。

“施特略夫。”我叫了一声。

他吓了一跳，接着就露出笑容来，但是他笑得那么凄惨。

“你怎么这样丢了魂似地在这里游荡？”我用快活的语调问道。

“我很久没有到卢佛尔宫来了。我想得来看看他们展出了什么新东西没有。”

“可是你不是告诉我，这礼拜得画好一幅画吗？”

“思特里克兰德在我画室里画画儿呢。”

“哦？”

“我提议叫他在那里画的。他身体还不够好，还不能回到自己的住处去。我本来想我们可以共用那间画室。在拉丁区很多人都是合伙租用一间画室。我本来以为这是个好办法。一个人画累了的时候，身边有个伴儿可以谈两句，我一直以为这样做会很有趣。”

这些话他说得很慢，每说一句话就非常尴尬地停歇好半晌儿，与此同时，他的一对温柔的、有些傻气的大眼睛却一直紧紧盯着我，只是在那里面已经充满了泪水了。

He was stilltoo weak to paint, and he sat in the studio, silent, occupied with God knowswhat dreams, or reading. The books he liked were queer; sometimes I would findhim poring over the poems of Mallarme, and he read them as a child reads,forming the words with his lips, and I wondered what strange emotion he gotfrom those subtle cadences and obscure phrases; and again I found him absorbedin the detective novels of Gaboriau. I amused myself by thinking that in hischoice of books he showed pleasantly the irreconcilable sides of his fantasticnature. It was singular to notice that even in the weak state of his body hehad no thought for its comfort. Stroeve liked his ease, and in his studio werea couple of heavily upholstered arm-chairs and a large divan. Strickland wouldnot go near them, not from any affectation of stoicism, for I found him seatedon a three-legged stool when I went into the studio one day and he was alone,but because he did not like them. For choice he sat on a kitchen chair withoutarms. It often exasperated me to see him. I never knew a man so entirelyindifferent to his surroundings.

他身体仍然很弱，不能作画。他沉默不语地坐在画室里，天晓得脑子里在想什么。有时候他也看书。他喜欢看的书都很怪；有时候我发现他在阅读马拉美②的诗。他读书的样子就象小孩子一样，动着嘴唇一个字一个字地拼读。我很想知道那些精巧的韵律和晦涩的诗句给他一些什么奇怪的感情。另外一些时候我发现他浸沉在嘉包里奥③的侦探小说里。我想，他对书的选择表现出组成他怪诞性格的不可调和的方面；我对自己的这个想法感到很有趣。尽管他的身体很弱，但是仍象往常一样，从不讲求舒适，这真是他奇怪的个性。施特略夫喜欢把起居环境弄得舒服一些，画室里摆着一对非常柔软的扶手椅和一张长沙发椅。思特里克兰德从来不坐这些椅子；他并不是矫揉造作，故意表示甘于艰苦，而是因为不喜欢它们。有一次我来看他，画室里只有他一个人，我发现他正坐在一只三脚凳上。如果叫他选择的话，他会喜欢不带扶手的硬背椅。他的这种习性常常叫我很恼火。我从来没有见过哪个人这么不关心周围的生活环境的。

②斯台凡·马拉美（1842—1898），法国象征派诗人。

③艾米尔·嘉包里奥（1835—1873），法国最早的侦探小说家。

In a few daysStrickland began to get up. He was nothing but skin and bone. His clothes hungupon him like rags on a scarecrow. With his untidy beard and long hair, hisfeatures, always a little larger than life, now emphasised by illness, he hadan extraordinary aspect; but it was so odd that it was not quite ugly. Therewas something monumental in his ungainliness. I do not know how to expressprecisely the impression he made upon me. It was not exactly spirituality thatwas obvious, though the screen of the flesh seemed almost transparent, becausethere was in his face an outrageous sensuality; but, though it sounds nonsense,it seemed as though his sensuality were curiously spiritual. There was in himsomething primitive. He seemed to partake of those obscure forces of naturewhich the Greeks personified in shapes part human and part beast, the satyr andthe faun. I thought of Marsyas, whom the god flayed because he had dared torival him in song. Strickland seemed to bear in his heart strange harmonies andunadventured patterns, and I foresaw for him an end of torture and despair. Ihad again the feeling that he was possessed of a devil; but you could not saythat it was a devil of evil, for it was a primitive force that existed beforegood and ill.

几天以后，思特里克兰德就下地了。他瘦得只剩下皮包骨头，衣服穿在身上就象稻草人披着一件破褂子似的。他的胡须凌乱，头发很长，鼻子眼睛本来就生得比一般人大，因为害过这场病，更显得大了一号；他的整个外表非常奇特，因为太古怪了，反而不显得那么丑陋。他的笨拙的形体给人以高大森严之感。我真不知道该如何确切地表达他给我的印象。最触目的一点倒不一定是他的裸露无遗的精神世界（虽然屏蔽着他精神的肉体几乎象是透明的），而是他脸上的那种蛮野的欲念。说来也许荒谬，这种肉欲又好象是空灵的，使你感到非常奇异。他身上散发着一种原始性；希腊人曾用半人半兽的形象，象生着马尾的森林之神啊，长着羊角、羊腿的农牧神啊，来表现大自然的这种神秘的力量，思特里克兰德身上就有这样一种力量。他使我想到马尔塞亚斯①，因为他居然敢同大神比赛音乐，所以被活剥了皮。思特里克兰德的心里好象怀着奇妙的和弦同未经探索过的画面。我预见到他的结局将是遭受痛苦的折磨和绝望。我心里又产生了一种他被魔鬼附体的感觉；但你却不能说这是邪恶的魔鬼，因为这是在宇宙混沌、善恶未分之前就存在的一种原始的力量。

①马尔塞亚斯是古代小亚细亚弗里吉亚国的一个吹笛人，同阿波罗比赛吹笛失败，被大神杀死。