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战争与和平　
War and Peace

英文中文双语对照双语交替

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CHAPTER XIII	第十三章

FOR TWO DAYS after the dance, Rostov had not seen Dolohov at his people's house nor found him at home; on the third day he received a note from him.	这次舞会之后过了两天，罗斯托夫在自己家里没有看见多洛霍夫，在他家里也没有碰到他，第三天接到他的一封便函。
“As I do not intend to be at your house again owing to causes of which you are aware, and am going to rejoin the regiment, I am giving a farewell supper to my friends—come to the English Hotel.” On the day fixed Rostov went at about ten o'clock, from the theatre where he had been with his family and Denisov, to the English Hotel. He was at once conducted to the best room in the hotel, which Dolohov had taken for the occasion.	“鉴于你所熟知的种种原因，我再也不欲登门拜访，我瞬将重返部队，是以特为各位友人举行告别酒会，敬祈莅临英吉利饭店。”罗斯托夫同自己家里人和杰尼索夫在剧院里看过戏了，九点多钟离开剧院，在这个约定的日子来到了英吉利饭店。他立刻被人领到多洛霍夫于是夜租用的上等客房里去。
Some twenty men were gathered about a table before which Dolohov was sitting between two candles. On the table lay money and notes, and Dolohov was keeping the bank. Nikolay had not seen him again since his offer and Sonya's refusal, and he felt uneasy at the thought of meeting him.	约计二十人聚集在桌子周围，多洛霍夫坐在桌前，左右两旁都点着一支蜡烛。桌子上摆着金币和纸币，多洛霍夫正在分牌。在他求婚和索尼娅拒绝之后，尼古拉尚未同他见面，每当想到他们相会这件事，他总会心慌意乱。
Dolohov's clear, cold glance met Rostov in the doorway as though he had been expecting him a long while.	多洛霍夫那冷淡而明亮的目光投射到站在门旁的罗斯托夫身上，仿佛他老早就在等候他似的。
“It's a long while since we've met,” said he; “thanks for coming. I'll just finish dealing here, and Ilyushka will make his appearance with his chorus.”	“许久不见面了，”他说，“你来了，表示感谢。我分完纸牌，一会儿伊柳什卡带着合唱队也要来的。”
“I did go to see you,” said Rostov, flushing.	“我去过你那里了。”罗斯托夫满面通红地说道。
Dolohov made him no reply.	多洛霍夫没有回答他的话。
“You might put down a stake,” he said.	“你可以下赌注。”他说。
Rostov recalled at that instant a strange conversation he once had with Dolohov. “None but fools trust to luck in play,” Dolohov had said then. “Or are you afraid to play with me?” Dolohov said now, as though divining Rostov's thought; and he smiled. Behind his smile Rostov saw in him that mood which he had seen in him at the club dinner and at other times, when Dolohov seemed, as it were, weary of the monotony of daily life, and felt a craving to escape from it by some strange, for the most part cruel, act.	这时分罗斯托夫回想起他和多洛霍夫的一次奇怪的谈话。“只有笨蛋们才靠牌运来赌钱。”那时多洛霍夫这样说。
Rostov felt ill at ease; he racked his brain and could not find in it a joke in which to reply to Dolohov's words. But before he had time to do so, Dolohov, looking straight into Rostov's face, said to him slowly and deliberately so that all could hear: “Do you remember, I was talking to you about play…he's a fool who trusts to luck in play; one must play a sure game, and I want to try.”	“也许你害怕和我赌博吧？”现在多洛霍夫这样说，仿佛猜中了罗斯托夫的想法，他于是微微一笑。罗斯托夫从他的微笑中看出他还怀有他在俱乐部午宴上怀有的那种心情，总之在那时，多洛霍夫似乎讨厌日常生活，他觉得必须做件奇特的多半是残忍的事来排除苦闷。
“Try his luck, or try to play a sure game?” wondered Rostov.	罗斯托夫感到尴尬万分，他在脑海中寻思，却未想出一句戏谑的话来回答多洛霍夫。但在多洛霍夫还来得及这样做的时候，他两眼直勾勾地望着罗斯托夫的脸，慢条斯理地一字一板地对他说，让大家都能听见他说的话。
“Indeed, and you'd better not play,” he added; and throwing down a pack he had just torn open, he said, “Bank, gentlemen!”	“不过，你总会记得，我和你谈过赌博的事……笨蛋，谁想靠运气来赌博，要有把握才来赌博，我想试试看。”
Moving the money forward, Dolohov began dealing.	“是靠运气来试试，还是有把握才来试验？”罗斯托夫想了想。
Rostov sat near him, and at first he did not play. Dolohov glanced at him.	“最好不要赌，”他补充一句，把启了封的一副纸牌往桌上一磕，补充地说：“诸位，下赌注！”
“Why don't you play?” said Dolohov. And strange to say, Nikolay felt that he could not help taking up a card, staking a trifling sum on it, and beginning to play.	多洛霍夫把钱向自己身前推一推，准备发牌。罗斯托夫在他身边坐下来，他最初没有赌钱。多洛霍夫不时地注视着他。
“I have no money with me,” said Rostov.	“你怎么不赌钱呀？”多洛霍夫说。多么奇怪，尼古拉觉得非拿牌不可，押下一小笔赌注，开始赌起来。
“I'll trust you!”	“我身上没有带钱。”罗斯托夫说。
Rostov staked five roubles on a card and lost it, staked again and again lost. Dolohov “killed,” that is, beat ten cards in succession from Rostov.	“可以赊帐！”
“Gentlemen,” he said, after dealing again for a little while, “I beg you to put the money on the cards or else I shall get muddled over the reckoning.”	罗斯托夫押下了五个卢布，输了钱，再押下赌注，又输了。多洛霍夫凭大牌盖过了小牌，即是说接连赢了罗斯托夫十张牌。
One of the players said that he hoped he could trust him.	“诸位，”他做庄做了一阵子以后，说道，“请诸位把钱放在牌上，要不然我会算错帐的。”
“I can trust you, but I'm afraid of making mistakes; I beg you to lay the money on the cards,” answered Dolohov. “You needn't worry, we'll settle our accounts,” he added to Rostov.	赌徒中有一人说，他希望能给他赊帐。
The play went on; a footman never ceased carrying round champagne.	“可以赊帐，但我害怕会把帐算错，请把钱放在牌上，”多洛霍夫回答，“你不要怕难为情，以后我同你清帐。”他对罗斯托夫补充地说。
All Rostov's cards were beaten, and the sum of eight hundred roubles was scored against him. He wrote on a card eight hundred roubles, but while champagne was being poured out for him, he changed his mind and again wrote down the usual stake, twenty roubles.	赌博正在持续着，仆人不断地给每个赌徒送来香槟酒。
“Leave it,” said Dolohov, thought he did not seem to be looking at Rostov; “you'll win it back all the sooner. I lose to the rest, while I win from you. Or perhaps you are afraid of me,” he repeated.	罗斯托夫的牌张张给盖过了，他欠的帐上记下了八百卢布。他本来要在一张牌上押下八百卢布，但在人家给他送上香槟酒的时候，他改变了主意，又押下一笔一般的赌注——
Rostov excused himself, left the stake of eight hundred and laid down the seven of hearts, a card with a corner torn, which he had picked up from the ground. Well he remembered that card afterwards. He laid down the seven of hearts, wrote on it with a broken piece of chalk 800 in bold round figures; he drank the glass of warmed champagne that had been given him, smiled at Dolohov's words, and with a sinking at his heart, waiting for the seven of hearts, he watched Dolohov's hands that held the pack. The loss or gain of that card meant a great deal for Rostov. On the previous Sunday Count Ilya Andreitch had given his son two thousand roubles, and though he never liked speaking of money difficulties, he told him that this money was the last they would get till May, and so he begged him to be a little more careful. Nikolay said that that was too much really for him, and that he would give him his word of honour not to come for more before May. Now there was only twelve hundred out of that two thousand left. So that on the seven of hearts there hung not merely the loss of sixteen hundred roubles, but the consequent inevitable betrayal of his word. With a sinking heart he watched Dolohov's hands and thought: “Well, make haste and deal me that card and I'll take my cap and drive home to supper with Denisov, Natasha, and Sonya, and I'm sure I'll never take a card in my hand again.” At that moment his home life, his jokes with Petya, his talks with Sonya, his duets with Natasha, his game of picquet with his father, even his comfortable bed in the house in Povarsky, rose before his imagination with such vividness, such brightness, and such charm, that it seemed as though it were all some long past, lost, and hitherto unappreciated happiness. He could not conceive that a stupid chance, leading the seven to the right rather than to the left, could deprive him of all that happiness felt now with new comprehension and seen in a new radiance, could hurl him into the abyss of unknown and undefined misery. It could not be; but yet it was with a thrill of dread that he waited for the movement of Dolohov's hands. Those broad-boned, reddish hands, with hairs visible under the shirt-cuffs, laid down the pack of cards and took up the glass and pipe that had been handed him.	二十个卢布。
“So you're not afraid to play with me?” repeated Dolohov; and as though he were about to tell a good story, he laid down the cards, leaned back in his chair, and began deliberately with a smile: “Yes, gentlemen, I have been told there's a story going about Moscow that I'm too sharp with cards, so I advise you to be a little on your guard with me.”	“别管它吧，”虽然多洛霍夫没有去望罗斯托夫一眼，但是他这样对他说，“你快点儿赢回输掉的钱吧。我输给人家，可是我总要赚你的钱。也许你害怕我吧？”他重复地说。
“Come, deal away!” said Rostov.	罗斯托夫听从他的话，不更改写下的八百卢布，押在那张他从地上拾起来的破了角的红桃七点上。后来他还清楚地记得这张牌。他押在红桃七点上，拿起一截断了的粉笔在这张牌上端端正正地写下数目字“800”；喝了一杯给他端来的烤热的香槟，对多洛霍夫的话付之一笑，心里发慌，极度紧张地注视多洛霍夫那双拿牌的手，等待着翻开一张红桃七点来。这张红桃七点的赢或者是输，对罗斯托夫具有重大意义。上周星期天，伊利亚·安德烈伊奇伯爵给了他儿子两千卢布，他从来不喜欢谈起金钱上的困难，可是现在伯爵对他说，这笔钱在五月份以前是最后的一笔钱了。因此他叫儿子这回要节省一点，尼古拉说，他觉得这些钱太多了，他保证他在入春以前不再拿钱了。现在这笔款项中只剩下一千二百卢布。因此红桃七点这张牌不仅意味着他输掉一千六百卢布，而且意味着他必须违背诺言。他心里发慌，极度紧张地注视多洛霍夫的手并且思忖着：“嘿，快点儿吧，把这张纸牌交给我，我就可以乘车回到家里去，跟杰尼索夫、娜塔莎和索尼娅一起吃晚饭，说真话，我永远不再摸牌了。”在这个时刻，他头脑中浮现出他的家庭生活：他和彼佳开玩笑，他和索尼娅谈话，他和娜塔莎表演二重奏，他和父亲玩“辟开”牌，甚至在波瓦尔大街的住宅中躺在一张舒适的床上，这一切在他的想象中清晰而迷人，洋溢着激情，仿佛这一切是久已逝去的、不可复得的、至为宝贵的幸福。他不能容忍无聊的运气竟使红桃七点先置于右边，而不是先置于左边，以致使他丧失重新享受的、重现异彩的幸福，使他陷入从未经历的未知的灾难的深渊。这是不可能的，他仍旧心悸，几乎要屏住气息，等待着多洛霍夫的两只手的动作。他那双大骨骼的、有点发红的、从衬衣袖筒下面露出汗毛的手，把一副纸牌放在桌上，拿起仆人给他送来的玻璃杯和烟斗。
“Ugh, these Moscow gossips!” said Dolohov, and he took up the cards with a smile.	“你真的不怕和我一块赌钱吗？”多洛霍夫重复地说，他好像要讲一个令人听来愉快的故事，他把牌放下，靠在椅子背上，面露微笑，慢吞吞地讲起来。
“Aaah!” Rostov almost screamed, putting both his hands up to his hair. The seven he needed was lying uppermost, the first card in the pack. He had lost more than he could pay.	“对了，诸位，有人告诉我说，莫斯科传出了谣言，好像说我是一个赌棍，因此我奉劝你们对我要提防点儿。”
“Don't swim beyond your depth, though,” said Dolohov, with a passing glance at Rostov, and he went on.	“喂，你发牌吧！”罗斯托夫说。
	“噢，莫斯科的娘儿们！”多洛霍夫说道，面露笑容地抓起了纸牌。
	“哎——呀！”罗斯托夫伸出一双手，托住了头发，几乎喊了一声。他所要的红桃七点居然放在上头，成了这副牌的第一张。他所输的钱超出他的偿付能力了。
	“不过你不要豁出命来碰运气。”多洛霍夫说，匆匆地瞥了罗斯托夫一眼，又继续发牌。