第一百七十章 第十三章
第十三章
猎户们常说，若是开猎第一只鸟兽没有失手，那么全天都会走运。这句话果然应验了。
列文徒步走了三十俄里路，十点钟时，他拖着疲惫饥渴的身子，却满心欢喜地回到寄宿的农舍。他猎获了十九只上等野味，外加一只鸭子——因为装不进猎物袋，只得系在腰带上。他的同伴们早已醒来，并且早已饿过头，吃过早餐了。
"等等，等等，我知道是十九只，"列文说着，又重新清点了一遍那些山鸡和沙锥。这些猎物如今蔫头耷脑、血迹斑斑、羽翼凌乱，与翱翔天空时的雄姿相比，简直判若两类。
数目核实无误后，斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇的嫉妒让列文颇为得意。更令他欣喜的是，回来时发现基蒂派来送信的人已经到了。
"我身体极好，心情愉快。你若为我担心，现在大可放心。我有了新的守护者——玛丽亚·弗拉西耶夫娜。"（这是接生婆，列文家庭生活中新出现的重要人物）"她来看过我，说我身体很好，我们便留她住下，等你回来。大家都很高兴平安，你若打猎顺利，不妨再多待一日，不必急着赶回来。"
猎运亨通和妻子的来信，这两件乐事让列文心情大好，以至于两件小小的不快也就轻轻放过了。其一是那匹枣红辕马，显然昨天累过了头，现在不吃草料，精神萎靡。车夫说："昨天赶得太狠了，康斯坦丁·德米特里奇。可不是嘛！毫无道理地赶了十俄里路！"
另一件不快的事，起初着实扫了他的兴致——后来他却为此笑了许久——那就是发现基蒂为他准备的丰盛食物，原本足够吃上一周的，如今竟丁点不剩。列文打猎归来，又累又饿，一路上满脑子都是肉馅饼的幻影，以至于走近农舍时，仿佛已经闻到了馅饼的香味，如同拉丝卡嗅到猎物的气息一般真切。他立刻让菲利普拿馅饼来吃。谁知馅饼早已没了，连鸡肉也不剩了。
"嘿，这位的胃口可真了得！"斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇笑着指向瓦先卡·韦斯洛夫斯基，"我虽然胃口不错，可他才是真正的奇才！"
"那也没办法，"列文闷闷不乐地瞥了韦斯洛夫斯基一眼，"菲利普，那就给我拿些牛肉来吧。"
"牛肉也吃光了，骨头都喂了狗。"菲利普回答。
列文心里委屈极了，便用懊恼的口气说："你们好歹也该给我留点！"说着，他几乎要哭出来。
"把猎物收拾好，"他用颤抖的声音吩咐菲利普，竭力不去看瓦先卡，"用荨麻盖起来。你，至少给我要点牛奶来。"
可是当他喝下牛奶后，立即为自己在陌生人面前表现出不快而羞愧起来，便拿自己饥饿难耐的狼狈相自嘲起来。
傍晚他们又去打猎，韦斯洛夫斯基这回倒有几枪打得很准。夜里他们便驱车回家了。
归途中，他们和来时一样兴高采烈。韦斯洛夫斯基唱着歌，兴致勃勃地讲述他与农夫们的趣事——那些农夫用伏特加款待他，还对他说"请原谅我们的粗茶淡饭"；他又讲起夜里玩"丢手绢"、跟女仆和农夫嬉闹的趣事——那农夫问他是否已婚，得知他未婚后便说："当心别追别人的老婆，还是自己娶一个吧。"这番话尤其逗得韦斯洛夫斯基开心。
"总之，这次出行我开心极了。你呢，列文？"
"我也很开心。"列文真心实意地说。特别让他愉快的是，当初在家里对瓦先卡·韦斯洛夫斯基怀有的敌意已经烟消云散，取而代之的是一种极其友好的感情。
The sportsman’s saying, that if the first beast or the first bird is
not missed, the day will be lucky, turned out correct.
At ten o’clock Levin, weary, hungry, and happy after a tramp of twenty
miles, returned to his night’s lodging with nineteen head of fine game
and one duck, which he tied to his belt, as it would not go into the
game bag. His companions had long been awake, and had had time to get
hungry and have breakfast.
“Wait a bit, wait a bit, I know there are nineteen,” said Levin,
counting a second time over the grouse and snipe, that looked so much
less important now, bent and dry and bloodstained, with heads crooked
aside, than they did when they were flying.
The number was verified, and Stepan Arkadyevitch’s envy pleased Levin.
He was pleased too on returning to find the man sent by Kitty with a
note was already there.
“I am perfectly well and happy. If you were uneasy about me, you can
feel easier than ever. I’ve a new bodyguard, Marya Vlasyevna,”—this was
the midwife, a new and important personage in Levin’s domestic life.
“She has come to have a look at me. She found me perfectly well, and we
have kept her till you are back. All are happy and well, and please,
don’t be in a hurry to come back, but, if the sport is good, stay
another day.”
These two pleasures, his lucky shooting and the letter from his wife,
were so great that two slightly disagreeable incidents passed lightly
over Levin. One was that the chestnut trace horse, who had been
unmistakably overworked on the previous day, was off his feed and out
of sorts. The coachman said he was “Overdriven yesterday, Konstantin
Dmitrievitch. Yes, indeed! driven ten miles with no sense!”
The other unpleasant incident, which for the first minute destroyed his
good humor, though later he laughed at it a great deal, was to find
that of all the provisions Kitty had provided in such abundance that
one would have thought there was enough for a week, nothing was left.
On his way back, tired and hungry from shooting, Levin had so distinct
a vision of meat-pies that as he approached the hut he seemed to smell
and taste them, as Laska had smelt the game, and he immediately told
Philip to give him some. It appeared that there were no pies left, nor
even any chicken.
“Well, this fellow’s appetite!” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, laughing and
pointing at Vassenka Veslovsky. “I never suffer from loss of appetite,
but he’s really marvelous!...”
“Well, it can’t be helped,” said Levin, looking gloomily at Veslovsky.
“Well, Philip, give me some beef, then.”
“The beef’s been eaten, and the bones given to the dogs,” answered
Philip.
Levin was so hurt that he said, in a tone of vexation, “You might have
left me something!” and he felt ready to cry.
“Then put away the game,” he said in a shaking voice to Philip, trying
not to look at Vassenka, “and cover them with some nettles. And you
might at least ask for some milk for me.”
But when he had drunk some milk, he felt ashamed immediately at having
shown his annoyance to a stranger, and he began to laugh at his hungry
mortification.
In the evening they went shooting again, and Veslovsky had several
successful shots, and in the night they drove home.
Their homeward journey was as lively as their drive out had been.
Veslovsky sang songs and related with enjoyment his adventures with the
peasants, who had regaled him with vodka, and said to him, “Excuse our
homely ways,” and his night’s adventures with kiss-in-the-ring and the
servant-girl and the peasant, who had asked him was he married, and on
learning that he was not, said to him, “Well, mind you don’t run after
other men’s wives—you’d better get one of your own.” These words had
particularly amused Veslovsky.
“Altogether, I’ve enjoyed our outing awfully. And you, Levin?”
“I have, very much,” Levin said quite sincerely. It was particularly
delightful to him to have got rid of the hostility he had been feeling
towards Vassenka Veslovsky at home, and to feel instead the most
friendly disposition to him.
