月亮与六便士【中英字幕】

The writer ismore concerned to know than to judge.

There was in mysoul a perfectly genuine horror of Strickland, and side by side with it a coldcuriosity to discover his motives. I was puzzled by him, and I was eager to seehow he regarded the tragedy he had caused in the lives of people who had usedhim with so much kindness. I applied the scalpel boldly.

"Stroevetold me that picture you painted of his wife was the best thing you've everdone. "

Strickland tookhis pipe out of his mouth, and a smile lit up his eyes.

"It wasgreat fun to do. "

"Why didyou give it him?"

"I'dfinished it. It wasn't any good to me. "

"Do youknow that Stroeve nearly destroyed it?"

"It wasn'taltogether satisfactory. "

He was quietfor a moment or two, then he took his pipe out of his mouth again, andchuckled.

"Do youknow that the little man came to see me?"

"Weren'tyou rather touched by what he had to say?"

"No; Ithought it damned silly and sentimental. "

"I supposeit escaped your memory that you'd ruined his life?" I remarked.

He rubbed hisbearded chin reflectively.

"He's avery bad painter. "

"But avery good man. "

"And anexcellent cook, " Strickland added derisively.

作家更关心的是了解人性，而不是判断人性。

我的灵魂对思特里克兰德确实感到恐怖，但与恐怖并存的还有一种叫我心寒的好奇心：我想寻找出他行为的动机。他使我困惑莫解，他对那些那么关怀他的人制造了一出悲剧，我很想知道他对自己一手制造的这出悲剧究竟抱什么态度。我大胆地挥舞起手术刀来。

“施特略夫对我说，你给他妻子画的那幅画是你的最好的作品。”

思特里克兰德把烟斗从嘴里拿出来，微笑使他的眼睛发出亮光。

“画那幅画我非常开心。”

“为什么你要给他？”

“我已经画完了。对我没有用了。”

“你知道施特略夫差点儿把它毁掉吗？”

“那幅画一点儿也不令人满意。”

他沉默了一会儿，接着又把烟斗从嘴里拿出来，呵呵地笑出声来。

“你知道那个小胖子来找过我吗？”他说。

“他说的话没有使你感动吗？”

“没有。我觉得他的话软绵绵的非常傻气。”

“我想你大概忘了，是你把他的生活毁了的，”我说。

他沉思地摩挲着自己长满胡须的下巴。

“他是个很蹩脚的画家。”

“可是他是个很好的人。”

“还是一个手艺高超的厨师，”思特里克兰德嘲弄地加添了一句。

We arrived atthe house in which I lived. I would not ask him to come in with me, but walkedup the stairs without a word. He followed me, and entered the apartment on myheels. He had not been in it before, but he never gave a glance at the room Ihad been at pains to make pleasing to the eye. There was a tin of tobacco onthe table, and, taking out his pipe, he filled it. He sat down on the onlychair that had no arms and tilted himself on the back legs.

"If you'regoing to make yourself at home, why don't you sit in an arm-chair?" Iasked irritably.

"Why areyou concerned about my comfort?"

"I'm not," I retorted, "but only about my own. It makes me uncomfortable tosee someone sit on an uncomfortable chair. "

He chuckled,but did not move. He smoked on in silence, taking no further notice of me, andapparently was absorbed in thought. I wondered why he had come.

Until longhabit has blunted the sensibility, there is something disconcerting to thewriter in the instinct which causes him to take an interest in thesingularities of human nature so absorbing that his moral sense is powerlessagainst it. He recognises in himself an artistic satisfaction in thecontemplation of evil which a little startles him; but sincerity forces him toconfess that the disapproval he feels for certain actions is not nearly sostrong as his curiosity in their reasons. The character of a scoundrel, logicaland complete, has a fascination for his creator which is an outrage to law andorder. I expect that Shakespeare devised Iago with a gusto which he never knewwhen, weaving moonbeams with his fancy, he imagined Desdemona. It may be thatin his rogues the writer gratifies instincts deep-rooted in him, which themanners and customs of a civilised world have forced back to the mysteriousrecesses of the subconscious. In giving to the character of his invention fleshand bones he is giving life to that part of himself which finds no other meansof expression. His satisfaction is a sense of liberation.

我们走到我住的房子。我不想对他说什么“请进来坐”这类的客气话，而是一言不发地自己走上了楼梯。他跟在后面，踩着我的脚后跟走进我的住房。他过去从来没到我这地方来过，但对我精心布置的屋子连看也不看一眼。桌子上摆着一铁罐烟草，他拿出烟斗来，装了一斗烟。接着，他坐在一把没有扶手的椅子上，身体往后一靠，跷起椅子的前腿。

“要是你想舒服一下，为什么不坐在安乐椅上？”我忿忿地问道。

“你为什么对我的舒适这么关心？”

“我并不关心，”我反驳说，“我关心的是自己。我看见别人坐在一把不舒服的椅子上自己就觉得不舒服。”

他咯咯地笑了笑，但是没有换地方。他默默地抽着烟斗，不再理睬我；看来他正在沉思自己的事。我很奇怪他为什么到我这地方来。

作家对那些吸引着他的怪异的性格本能地感到兴趣，尽管他的道德观不以为然，对此却无能为力；直到习惯已成自然，他的感觉变得迟钝以后，这种本能常常使他非常狼狈。他喜欢观察这种多少使他感到惊异的邪恶的人性，自认这种观察是为了满足艺术的要求；但是他的真挚却迫使他承认：他对于某些行为的反感远不如对这些行为产生原因的好奇心那样强烈。一个恶棍的性格如果刻划得完美而又合乎逻辑，对于创作者是具有一种魅惑的力量的，尽管从法律和秩序的角度看，他决不该对恶棍有任何欣赏的态度。我猜想莎士比亚在创作埃古①时可能比他借助月光和幻想构思苔丝德梦娜②怀着更大的兴味。说不定作家在创作恶棍时实际上是在满足他内心深处的一种天性，因为在文明社会中，风俗礼仪迫使这种天性隐匿到潜意识的最隐秘的底层下；给予他虚构的人物以血肉之躯，也就是使他那一部分无法表露的自我有了生命。他得到的满足是一种自由解放的快感。

①莎士比亚戏剧《奥瑟罗》中的反面人物。

②《奥瑟罗》主人公奥瑟罗的妻子。

"I thinkyou're detestable. You're the most loathsome beast that it's ever been mymisfortune to meet. Why do you seek the society of someone who hates anddespises you?"

"My dearfellow, what the hell do you suppose I care what you think of me?"

"Damn itall, " I said, more violently because I had an inkling my motive was nonetoo creditable, "I don't want to know you. "

"Are youafraid I shall corrupt you?"

His tone mademe feel not a little ridiculous. I knew that he was looking at me sideways,with a sardonic smile.

"I supposeyou are hard up, " I remarked insolently.

"I shouldbe a damned fool if I thought I had any chance of borrowing money from you."

"You'vecome down in the world if you can bring yourself to flatter. "

He grinned.

"You'llnever really dislike me so long as I give you the opportunity to get off a goodthing now and then. "

I had to bitemy lip to prevent myself from laughing. What he said had a hateful truth in it,and another defect of my character is that I enjoy the company of those,however depraved, who can give me a Roland for my Oliver. I began to feel thatmy abhorrence for Strickland could only be sustained by an effort on my part. Irecognised my moral weakness, but saw that my disapprobation had in it alreadysomething of a pose; and I knew that if I felt it, his own keen instinct haddiscovered it, too. He was certainly laughing at me up his sleeve. I left himthe last word, and sought refuge in a shrug of the shoulders and taciturnity.

“我觉得你是一个非常讨厌的人。我怎么会那么倒霉，认识了你这么一个最惹人嫌的东西。你为什么偏偏要缠着一个讨厌你、看不起你的人呢？”

“你以为我很注意你对我的看法吗，老兄？”

“真见鬼！”我说，因为感觉到我的动机一点也站不住脚，反而装出一副更加气愤的样子。“我不想认识你。”

“你怕我会把你带坏了吗？”

他的语气让我觉得自己非常可笑。我知道他正斜着眼睛看我，脸上带着讥嘲的笑容。

“我猜想你手头又窘了吧！”我傲慢地说。

“要是我还认为有希望从你手里借到钱，我真是个大傻瓜了。”

“要是你硬逼着自己讨别人喜欢，那说明你现在已经穷得没有办法了。”

他咧开嘴笑了笑。

“只要我不时地能叫你开开心，你是永远也不会真正讨厌我的。”

我不能不咬住嘴唇才憋着没有笑出来。他说的话尽管可恶，却有一定的真实性。此外，我的性格还有一个弱点：不论什么人，尽管道德上非常堕落，但只要能够和我唇枪舌剑，针锋相对，我还是愿意同他在一起的。我开始觉得我对思特里克兰德的厌恶只有靠我单方面努力才能维持下去。我认识到我精神上的弱点，看到我对他的态度实在有点儿装腔作势。而且我还知道，如果我自己已经感觉到这点，思特里克兰德的敏锐的观察力是不会看不到的。他肯定正在暗暗地笑我呢。我耸了耸肩膀，没有再说什么，让他在这场舌战中占了上风。

I shrugged myshoulders, and went into the shop. I reflected that French paper was bad, andthat, foiled of my purpose, I need not burden myself with a purchase that I didnot need. I asked for something I knew could not be provided, and in a minutecame out into the street.

"Did youget what you wanted?" he asked.

"No."

We walked on insilence, and then came to a place where several streets met. I stopped at thecurb.

"Which waydo you go?" I enquired.

"Your way," he smiled.

"I'm goinghome. "

"I'll comealong with you and smoke a pipe. "

"You mightwait for an invitation, " I retorted frigidly.

"I wouldif I thought there was any chance of getting one. "

"Do yousee that wall in front of you?" I said, pointing.

"Yes."

"In thatcase I should have thought you could see also that I don't want your company."

"I vaguelysuspected it, I confess. "

I could nothelp a chuckle. It is one of the defects of my character that I cannotaltogether dislike anyone who makes me laugh. But I pulled myself together.

我耸了耸肩膀，便走进文具店去。我想到法国纸并不好，既然我原来的打算已经落空，自然也就用不着买一些我不需要的东西增加负担了。于是我问了一两样他们准不会有的东西，一分钟以后就走出来了。

“买到你要买的东西了吗？”他问。

“没有。”

我们又一声不响地往前走，最后走到一处几条路交叉的路口。我在马路边上停下来。

“你往哪边走？”我问他。

“同你走一条路。”

“我回家。”

“我到你那里去抽一斗烟。”

“你总得等人请你吧。”我冷冷地说。

“要是我知道有被邀请的可能我就等着了。”

“你看到前面那堵墙了吗？”我问，向前面指了一下。

“看到了。”

“要是你还有这种眼力，我想你也就会看到我并不欢迎你了。”

“说老实话，我猜到了这一点。”

我噗哧地一声笑了。我不能讨厌一个能惹我发笑的人，这也许是我性格上的一个弱点。但是我马上就绷起脸来。

For the nextmonth, occupied with my own affairs, I saw no one connected with thislamentable business, and my mind ceased to be occupied with it. But one day,when I was walking along, bent on some errand, I passed Charles Strickland. Thesight of him brought back to me all the horror which I was not unwilling toforget, and I felt in me a sudden repulsion for the cause of it. Nodding, forit would have been childish to cut him, I walked on quickly; but in a minute Ifelt a hand on my shoulder.

"You're ina great hurry, " he said cordially.

It wascharacteristic of him to display geniality with anyone who showed adisinclination to meet him, and the coolness of my greeting can have left himin little doubt of that.

"I am," I answered briefly.

"I'll walkalong with you, " he said.

"Why?"I asked.

"For thepleasure of your society. "

I did notanswer, and he walked by my side silently. We continued thus for perhaps aquarter of a mile. I began to feel a little ridiculous. At last we passed astationer's, and it occurred to me that I might as well buy some paper. Itwould be an excuse to be rid of him.

"I'm goingin here, " I said. "Good-bye. "

"I'll waitfor you. "

在施特略夫离开以后的一个月里，我忙于自己的事务，再也没有见到过哪个同这件悲惨事件有关的人，我也不再去想它了。但是有一天，正当我出外办事的时候，却在路上看到了查理斯·思特里克兰德。一见到他，那些我宁肯忘掉的令人气愤的事马上又回到我的脑子里来，我对这个造成这场祸事的人感到一阵嫌恶。但是佯装不见也未免大孩子气，我还是对他点了点头，然后加快了脚步，继续走自己的路。可是马上就有一只手搭在我的肩膀上。

“你挺忙啊。”他热诚地说。

对于任何一个不屑于理他的人他总是非常亲切，这是思特里克兰德的一个特点；从我刚才同他打招呼时的冷淡态度，他清楚地知道我对他的看法。

“挺忙。”我的回答非常简短。

“我同你一起走一段路。”他说。

“干什么？”我问。

“因为高兴同你在一起。”

我没有说什么，他默不作声地伴着我走。我们就这样走了大约四分之一里路。我开始觉得有一点滑稽。最后我们走过一家文具店，我突然想到我不妨进去买些纸，这样我就可以把他甩掉了。

“我要进去买点东西，”我说，“再见。”

“我等着你。”     

"What haveyou done with all your things?" I said at last.

"I got aJew in, and he gave me a round sum for the lot. I'm taking my pictures homewith me. Beside them I own nothing in the world now but a box of clothes and afew books. "

"I'm gladyou're going home, " I said.

I felt that hischance was to put all the past behind him. I hoped that the grief which nowseemed intolerable would be softened by the lapse of time, and a mercifulforgetfulness would help him to take up once more the burden of life. He wasyoung still, and in a few years he would look back on all his misery with asadness in which there would be something not unpleasurable. Sooner or later hewould marry some honest soul in Holland, and I felt sure he would be happy. Ismiled at the thought of the vast number of bad pictures he would paint beforehe died.

Next day I sawhim off for Amsterdam.

“你那些东西怎么处置了？”最后我问道。

“我找了一个收旧货的犹太人，他把全部东西都买了去，给了我一笔整钱。我的那些画我准备带回家去。除了画以外，我还有一箱子衣服，几本书，此外，在这个世界上我什么财产也没有了。”

“我很高兴你回老家去。”我说。

我觉得他还是有希望让过去的事成为过去的。我希望随着时间的流逝，现在他觉得无法忍受的悲痛会逐渐减轻，记忆会逐渐淡薄；老天是以慈悲为怀的！他终究会再度挑起生活的担子来的。他年纪还很轻，几年以后再回顾这一段惨痛遭遇，在悲痛中或许不无某种愉悦的感觉。或迟或早，他会同一个朴实的荷兰女人结婚，我相信他会生活得很幸福的。想到他这一辈子还会画出多少幅蹩脚的图画来，我的脸上禁不住浮现出笑容。

第二天我就送他启程回阿姆斯特丹去了。

The falseemphasis with which they try to deck their worthless thoughts blunts theirsusceptibilities. Like the charlatan who counterfeits a spiritual force he hassometimes felt, they lose the power they have abused. But Stroeve, theunconquerable buffoon, had a love and an understanding of beauty which were ashonest and sincere as was his own sincere and honest soul. It meant to him whatGod means to the believer, and when he saw it he was afraid.

"What didyou say to Strickland when you saw him?"

"I askedhim to come with me to Holland. "

I wasdumbfounded. I could only look at Stroeve in stupid amazement.

"We bothloved Blanche. There would have been room for him in my mother's house. I thinkthe company of poor, simple people would have done his soul a great good. Ithink he might have learnt from them something that would be very useful tohim. "

"What didhe say?"

"He smileda little. I suppose he thought me very silly. He said he had other fish to fry."

I could havewished that Strickland had used some other phrase to indicate his refusal.

"He gaveme the picture of Blanche. "

I wondered whyStrickland had done that. But I made no remark, and for some time we keptsilence.

他们用以遮饰自己毫无价值的思想的虚假夸大使他们的感受力变得迟钝不堪。正如一个假内行有时也会感觉到自己是在无中生有地伪造某件器物的精神价值一样，人们已经失掉了他们用之过滥的赏识能力。但是施特略夫，这位本性无法改变的小丑，对于美却有着真挚的爱和理解，正象他的灵魂也是诚实、真挚的一样。对他说来，美就象虔诚教徒心目中的上帝一样；一旦他见到真正美的事物，他变得恐惧万分。

“你见到思特里克兰德的时候，对他说什么了？”

“我邀他同我一起到荷兰去。”

我愣在那里，一句话也说不出来，目瞪口呆地直勾勾地望着他。

“我们两人都爱勃朗什。在我的老家也有地方给他住。我想叫他同贫寒、淳朴的人们在一起，对他的灵魂是有好处的。我想他也许能从这些人身上学到一些对他有用的东西。”

“他说什么？”

“他笑了笑。我猜想他一定觉得我这个人非常蠢。他说他没有那么多闲工夫。”

我真希望思特里克兰德用另一种措词拒绝施特略夫的邀请。

“他把勃朗什的这幅画送给我了。”

我很想知道思特里克兰德为什么要这样做，但是我什么也没有说。好大一会儿，我们两人都没有说话。

It was not onlythe bold simplification of the drawing which showed so rich and so singular apersonality; it was not only the painting, though the flesh was painted with apassionate sensuality which had in it something miraculous; it was not only thesolidity, so that you felt extraordinarily the weight of the body; there wasalso a spirituality, troubling and new, which led the imagination alongunsuspected ways, and suggested dim empty spaces, lit only by the eternalstars, where the soul, all naked, adventured fearful to the discovery of newmysteries.

If I amrhetorical it is because Stroeve was rhetorical. (Do we not know that man inmoments of emotion expresses himself naturally in the terms of a novelette?)Stroeve was trying to express a feeling which he had never known before, and hedid not know how to put it into common terms. He was like the mystic seeking todescribe the ineffable. But one fact he made clear to me; people talk of beautylightly, and having no feeling for words, they use that one carelessly, so thatit loses its force; and the thing it stands for, sharing its name with ahundred trivial objects, is deprived of dignity. They call beautiful a dress, adog, a sermon; and when they are face to face with Beauty cannot recognise it.

这幅画之所以能显示出这样强烈、这样独特的个性，并不只是因为它那极为大胆的简单的线条，不只是因为它的处理方法（尽管那肉体被画得带有一种强烈的、几乎可以说是奇妙的欲情），也不只是因为它给人的实体感，使你几乎奇异地感觉到那肉体的重量，而且还因为它有一种纯精神的性质，一种使你感到不安、感到新奇的精神，把你的幻想引向前所未经的路途，把你带到一个朦胧空虚的境界，那里为探索新奇的神秘只有永恒的星辰在照耀，你感到自己的灵魂一无牵挂，正经历着各种恐怖和冒险。

如果我在这里有些舞文弄墨，使用了不少形象比喻，这是因为施特略夫当时就是这么表达他自己的。（估量大家都知道，一旦感情激动起来，一个人会很自然地玩弄起文学词藻来的。）施特略夫企图表达的是一种他过去从来没经历过的感觉，如果用一般的言语，他简直不知道该如何说出口来。他象是一个神秘主义者费力地宣讲一个无法言传的道理。但是有一件事我还是清楚的：人们动不动就谈美，实际上对这个词并不理解；这个词已经使用得太滥，失去了原有的力量；因为成千上万的琐屑事物都分享了“美”的称号，这个词已经被剥夺掉它的崇高的含义了。一件衣服，一只狗，一篇布道词，什么东西人们都用“美”来形容，当他们面对面地遇到真正的美时，反而认不出它来了。

As Stroeve toldme this he became as excited as when the incident occurred, and he took hold ofa dinner-knife on the table between us, and brandished it. He lifted his arm asthough to strike, and then, opening his hand, let it fall with a clatter to theground. He looked at me with a tremulous smile. He did not speak.

"Fireaway, " I said.

"I don'tknow what happened to me. I was just going to make a great hole in the picture,I had my arm all ready for the blow, when suddenly I seemed to see it. "

"Seewhat?"

"Thepicture. It was a work of art. I couldn't touch it. I was afraid. "

Stroeve wassilent again, and he stared at me with his mouth open and his round blue eyesstarting out of his head.

"It was agreat, a wonderful picture. I was seized with awe. I had nearly committed adreadful crime. I moved a little to see it better, and my foot knocked againstthe scraper. I shuddered. "

I really feltsomething of the emotion that had caught him. I was strangely impressed. It wasas though I were suddenly transported into a world in which the values werechanged. I stood by, at a loss, like a stranger in a land where the reactions ofman to familiar things are all different from those he has known. Stroeve triedto talk to me about the picture, but he was incoherent, and I had to guess atwhat he meant. Strickland had burst the bonds that hitherto had held him. Hehad found, not himself, as the phrase goes, but a new soul with unsuspectedpowers.

施特略夫给我讲这个故事的时候同事情发生的当时一样激动，他把放在我俩中间桌子上的一把餐刀拿起来，拼命挥舞着。他抬起一只胳臂，仿佛要扎下来的样子。接着，突然把手一松，刀子哐啷一声掉在地上。他望着我，声音颤抖地笑了笑，没有再说话。

“快说啊！”我催他道。

“我说不清楚自己是怎么回事，正当我要在画上戳个大洞的时候，当我已经抬起胳臂正准备往下扎的时候，突然间我好象看见它了。”

“看见什么了？”

“那幅画。一件珍贵的艺术品。我不能碰它。我害怕了。”

施特略夫又停顿下来，直勾勾地盯着我，张着嘴，一对又蓝又圆的眼珠似乎都要凸出来了。

“那真是一幅伟大的、奇妙的绘画。我一下子被它震骇住了。我几乎犯了一桩可怕的罪行。我移动了一下身体，想看得更清楚一些，我的脚踢在刮刀上。我打了个冷战。”

激动着施特略夫的那种感情我确实体会到了；他说的这些话奇怪地把我打动了。我好象突然被带进一个全部事物的价值都改变了的世界里。我茫然不知所措地站在一旁，好象一个到了异乡的陌生人，在那里，一个人对于他所熟悉的事物的各种反应都与过去的不同了。施特略夫尽量想把他见到的这幅画描述给我听，但是他说得前言不搭后语，许多意思都只能由我猜测。思特里克兰德已经把那一直束缚着的桎梏打碎了。他并没有象俗话所说的“寻找到自己”，而是寻找到一个新的灵魂，一个具有意料不到的巨大力量的灵魂。

Suddenly hecaught sight of a canvas with its face to the wall. It was a much larger onethan he himself was in the habit of using, and he wondered what it did there.He went over to it and leaned it towards him so that he could see the painting.It was a nude. His heart began to beat quickly, for he guessed at once that itwas one of Strickland's pictures. He flung it back against the wall angrily --what did he mean by leaving it there? -- but his movement caused it to fall,face downwards, on the ground. No mater whose the picture, he could not leaveit there in the dust, and he raised it; but then curiosity got the better ofhim. He thought he would like to have a proper look at it, so he brought italong and set it on the easel. Then he stood back in order to see it at hisease.

He gave a gasp.It was the picture of a woman lying on a sofa, with one arm beneath her headand the other along her body; one knee was raised, and the other leg wasstretched out. The pose was classic. Stroeve's head swam. It was Blanche. Griefand jealousy and rage seized him, and he cried out hoarsely; he wasinarticulate; he clenched his fists and raised them threateningly at aninvisible enemy. He screamed at the top of his voice. He was beside himself. Hecould not bear it. That was too much. He looked round wildly for someinstrument; he wanted to hack the picture to pieces; it should not existanother minute. He could see nothing that would serve his purpose; he rummagedabout his painting things; somehow he could not find a thing; he was frantic. Atlast he came upon what he sought, a large scraper, and he pounced on it with acry of triumph. He seized it as though it were a dagger, and ran to thepicture.

突然，他发现有一幅画面朝里地挂在墙上。这幅画的尺寸比他自己通常画的要大得多，他很奇怪为什么屋子里摆着这么一幅画。他走过去把它翻转过来，想看一看上面画的是什么。他发现这是一张裸体的女人像。他的心开始剧烈地跳动起来，因为他马上就猜到这是思特里克兰德的作品。他气呼呼地把它往墙上一摔， ——思特里克兰德把画留在这里有什么用意？——因为用力过猛，画掉了下来，面朝下地落到地上。不管是谁画的，他也不能叫它扔在尘土里；他把它捡了起来。这时他的好奇心占了上风，他想要好好地看一看，于是他把这张画拿到画架上摆好，往后退了两步，准备仔细瞅一瞅。

①一称“断臂的阿芙罗底德”，1820年在希腊美洛斯发现的古希腊云石雕像，现存巴黎卢佛尔宫。

②十七世纪在意大利发掘出的雕像，因长期收藏在罗马麦迪琪宫，故得名，现收藏于佛罗伦萨乌非济美术馆。

③德尔夫特系荷兰西部一个小城，以生产蓝白色上釉陶器闻名。

他倒抽了一口气。画面是一个女人躺在长沙发上，一只胳臂枕在头底下，另一只顺着身躯平摆着，屈着一条腿，另一条伸直。这是一个古典的姿势。施特略夫的脑袋嗡的一下胀了起来。画面的女人是勃朗什。悲痛、忌妒和愤怒一下子把他抓住；他一句完整的话也说不出，只是嘶哑地喊叫了一声。他握紧了拳头对着看不见的敌人摇晃着。他开始扯直了喉咙尖叫起来。他快要发疯了。他实在忍受不了；这简直太过分了。他向四周看了看，想寻找一件器具，把这幅画砍个粉碎，一分钟也不允许它在这个世界上存在。但是身边并没有任何合手的武器，他在绘画用品里翻寻了一遍，不知为什么还是什么也没有找到。他简直发狂了。最后他终于找到了他需要的东西——一把刮油彩用的大刮刀。他一把把刮刀抄起来，发出一声胜利的喊叫，象擎着一把匕首似地向那幅图画奔去。