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『白痴』のカラフル対訳について

カラフル対訳で紹介している『白痴』は、パブリックドメインの作品を出典としています。

このサイトで使われている作品は、ロシアの文豪フョードル・ドストエフスキーによる小説 The Idiot を出典としています。 英文は Eva M. Martin による英訳版をもとにしています。 原文は、著作権の切れた名作などの全文を電子化し、インターネット上で公開している Project Gutenberg(プロジェクト・グーテンベルク)、 朗読音声は LibriVox(リブリヴォックス/朗読図書館) の公開音声を出典としています。

原文はProject Gutenberg、音声はLibriVoxで公開されているパブリックドメイン作品を出典としています。

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『白痴』英文/和訳 PART II CHAPTER IV ホルバインの絵と十字架の交換

『The Idiot』PART II CHAPTER IV を、英語学習用に「英文→和訳」の順で読みやすく整理し、重要語句を多めに色分けしています。上部の操作パネルで、和訳・色分け・ミニ訳・カテゴリ別ハイライトを切り替えられます。

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カテゴリ別ハイライト
動作・変化 感情・心理 場面・描写 人物・性格 疑問・不穏 重要表現

They passed through the same rooms which the prince had crossed when he first entered the house. In the largest room, there were several pictures on the walls, portraits and landscapes of little interest.

Over the door, however, hung one picture of strange and striking shape. It was very long and narrow, and showed the Saviour just taken down from the cross.

The prince glanced at it only briefly, then moved on quickly, as though he were anxious to get out of the house. But Rogojin suddenly stopped beneath the picture.

“My father bought all these pictures cheaply at auctions,” he said. “Most of them are rubbish, but the one over the door is valuable. Someone offered five hundred roubles for it only last week.”

“Yes, that is a copy of Holbein,” said the prince, looking again. “And, so far as I can judge, a good copy. I saw the original abroad, and I could not forget it.”

“What is the matter?” he added, for Rogojin had suddenly dropped the subject and walked on without answering.

Rogojin’s strange state of mind could explain much, but still it seemed odd to the prince that he should begin such a conversation himself and then abandon it so abruptly.

“Lef Nicolaievitch,” said Rogojin after a pause, as they walked a little farther, “I have long wanted to ask you something. Do you believe in God?”

“How strangely you speak, and how odd you look!” said the prince, involuntarily.

“I like looking at that picture,” muttered Rogojin, apparently not noticing that the prince had not answered.

“That picture! That picture!” cried Muishkin, suddenly struck by an idea. “Why, looking at that picture might destroy a man’s faith!”

“So it is,” said Rogojin unexpectedly. They had now reached the front door.

The prince stopped.

“How do you mean?” he asked. “I was half joking, but you have answered quite seriously. Why did you ask me whether I believe in God?”

“No special reason. I had meant to ask before. People say many are unbelievers nowadays, especially Russians. You should know; you have lived abroad.”

Rogojin laughed bitterly as he said this, opened the door, and held it for the prince to pass out.

Muishkin looked surprised, but went out. Rogojin followed him to the landing of the outer staircase and shut the door behind him.

They stood facing one another, as though both had forgotten where they were and what they should do next.

“Well, good-bye,” said the prince, holding out his hand.

“Good-bye,” said Rogojin, pressing the hand hard, but almost mechanically.

The prince took one step forward, then turned back.

“About faith,” he said, smiling, evidently unwilling to leave Rogojin in such a state, “about faith, I had four curious conversations in two days about a week ago.”

“One morning in the train I met a man and became acquainted with him at once. I had often heard that he was very learned, but also an atheist.”

“I was glad to speak with so eminent and intelligent a person. He did not believe in God, and he spoke a great deal about it.”

“But all the while it seemed to me that he was speaking outside the real subject. I have noticed the same thing when reading such men’s books.”

“They seem to speak about religion, but somehow they never touch the thing itself. I tried to tell him this, though perhaps I did not express myself clearly enough.”

“That same evening I stayed at a small provincial hotel. The night before, a dreadful murder had been committed there, and everyone was talking about it.”

“Two peasants, old friends, had taken tea together and were to sleep in the same room. One noticed for the first time that the other had a silver watch on a chain.”

“He was not usually a thief, and by peasant standards he was not poor. But that watch fascinated him so much that he could not resist it.”

“He took a knife, came softly behind his friend, raised his eyes to heaven, crossed himself, prayed for forgiveness—and cut his friend’s throat like a sheep.”

Rogojin burst into loud laughter. He laughed almost as if in a fit, and it was strange to see him laugh so after his sombre mood.

“Oh, I like that!” he cried, choking with laughter. “One man is a complete unbeliever, and the other is such a believer that he murders with a prayer on his lips!”

“Prince, prince, that is too good! You could not have invented it. It is the best thing I have heard!”

When Rogojin had grown a little quieter, though still laughing now and then, the prince continued.

“The next morning I went out for a walk in the town and met a drunken soldier staggering along the pavement.”

“He came up to me and offered to sell me his silver cross for four kopecks. He said it was real silver.”

“I looked and saw that it had just been taken from his neck, but it was only a large tin cross, made in the Byzantine style.”

“I gave him the four kopecks and put the cross around my own neck. I could see from his face that he was delighted at having cheated a foolish gentleman.”

“Then he went off to drink the price of his cross. At that time everything I saw in Russia made a tremendous impression on me.”

“I had understood almost nothing about Russia before. I had only vague and fantastic memories of it.”

“So I thought, ‘I will wait before I condemn this Judas. Only God knows what may be hidden in the hearts of drunkards.’”

“Then, on my way back, I met a poor young woman carrying a baby about six weeks old.”

“The child was smiling up at her, perhaps for the first time in its life. As I watched, the mother suddenly crossed herself very devoutly.”

“I asked her what had happened, for in those days I was always asking questions.”

“She said that just as a mother rejoices when her baby smiles at her for the first time, so God rejoices when one of His children turns to Him and prays with all the heart.”

“It was a simple country woman who said this, but the thought was deep, refined, and truly religious.”

“In one flash it expressed the very heart of Christianity: God as Father, and God’s joy in human beings as His children.”

“Perhaps,” added the prince, “who knows, she may even have been the wife of that drunken soldier.”

“Listen, Parfen. You asked me about faith. This is my answer.”

“The essence of religious feeling has nothing to do with reason, atheism, crime, or outward actions. There is something else, something arguments cannot reach.”

“And the main thing is that this can be seen most clearly in the heart of a Russian. This is what I have come to believe since returning to Russia.”

“Yes, Parfen, there is work to be done in this Russian world. Do you remember our talks in Moscow? I never wished to come here at all, and I never expected to meet you like this.”

“Well, good-bye, good-bye. God be with you.”

He turned and went downstairs.

“Lef Nicolaievitch!” cried Parfen before he had reached the next landing. “Have you still got the cross you bought from the soldier?”

“Yes, I have,” said the prince, stopping again.

“Show it to me.”

The prince wondered at this new impulse, then mounted the stairs again and pulled out the cross without taking it from his neck.

“Give it to me,” said Parfen.

“Why? Do you—” The prince would rather have kept this particular cross.

“I will wear it, and you shall have mine. I will take mine off now.”

“You want to exchange crosses? Very well, Parfen. If that is what you mean, I am glad. That makes us brothers, you know.”

The prince took off his tin cross, and Parfen took off his gold one. They exchanged them.

Parfen was silent. With sad surprise, the prince noticed that distrust and the bitter, ironical smile had not completely left his new brother’s face.

At moments, at least, it still showed itself all too clearly.

At last Rogojin took the prince’s hand and held it for several moments, as though he could not decide what to do. Then he drew him along and murmured almost inaudibly, “Come.”

They stopped on the landing and rang the bell at a door opposite Rogojin’s own apartment.

An old woman opened the door and bowed low to Parfen. He asked her a few hurried questions, but did not wait for the answers.

He led the prince through several dark, cold rooms, spotlessly clean, with white covers laid over all the furniture.

Without knocking, Parfen entered a small apartment furnished like a drawing-room, though a polished mahogany partition divided one half from what was probably a bedroom.

In one corner, near the stove, sat an old woman in an arm-chair.

She did not look extremely old, and her face was round and pleasant; but her hair was white, and at first glance one could see she had fallen into second childhood.

She wore a black woollen dress, a black kerchief around her neck and shoulders, and a white cap trimmed with black ribbons. Her feet rested on a footstool.

Beside her sat another old woman, also dressed in mourning, silently knitting a stocking. She was evidently a companion.

Both women looked as though they never broke the silence.

As soon as the first old woman saw Rogojin and the prince, she smiled and bowed several times, courteously, as though pleased by their visit.

“Mother,” said Rogojin, kissing her hand, “this is my great friend, Prince Muishkin. We have exchanged crosses. Once in Moscow he was like a real brother to me and did much for me.”

“Bless him, mother, as you would bless your own son. Wait, let me arrange your hands.”

But before Parfen could touch her, the old lady raised her right hand and, holding up three fingers, devoutly made the sign of the cross over the prince three times.

Then she nodded kindly to him once more.

“There, come along, Lef Nicolaievitch. That is all I brought you here for,” said Rogojin.

When they reached the stairs again, he added, “She understood nothing of what I said and did not know what I wanted, and yet she blessed you. That means she wished to do so herself.”

“Well, goodbye. It is time you went, and I must go too.”

He opened his own door.

“At least let me embrace you and say goodbye, you strange fellow!” cried the prince, looking at Rogojin with gentle reproach and moving toward him.

But Rogojin had hardly raised his arms before he dropped them again. He could not decide to embrace him. He turned away to avoid looking at the prince.

“Do not be afraid,” he muttered indistinctly. “Though I have taken your cross, I shall not murder you for your watch.”

He laughed suddenly and strangely. Then in a moment his face changed completely; he grew deathly pale, his lips trembled, and his eyes burned like fire.

He stretched out his arms, held the prince tightly to himself, and said in a strangled voice:

“Well, take her! It is fate! She is yours. I surrender her. Remember Rogojin!”

Then he pushed the prince away, entered his own flat hurriedly without looking back, and slammed the door.

『The Idiot』by Fyodor Dostoyevsky / Translated by Eva Martin をもとに、英語学習用の英文・和訳・語句色分け形式に編集しています。原文の PART II CHAPTER IV に対応しています。
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白痴

『白痴』英文/和訳 PART II CHAPTER III ロゴージンの家と危うい再会 『白痴』英文/和訳 PART II CHAPTER V 幻の目と階段の発作