He gave a gasp. It was the picture of a woman lying on a sofa, with one arm beneath her head and the other along her body; one knee was raised, and the other leg was stretched out. The pose was classic. Stroeve's head swam. It was Blanche. Grief and jealousy and rage seized him, and he cried out hoarsely; he was inarticulate; he clenched his fists and raised them threateningly at an invisible enemy. He screamed at the top of his voice. He was beside himself. He could not bear it. That was too much. He looked round wildly for some instrument; he wanted to hack the picture to pieces; it should not exist another minute. He could see nothing that would serve his purpose; he rummaged about his painting things; somehow he could not find a thing; he was frantic. At last he came upon what he sought, a large scraper, and he pounced on it with a cry of triumph. He seized it as though it were a dagger, and ran to the picture.
他倒抽了一口氣。畫面是一個女人躺在長沙發上，一只胳臂枕在頭底下，另一只順著身軀平擺著，屈著一條腿，另一條伸直。這是一個古典的姿勢。施特略夫的腦袋嗡的一下脹了起來。畫面的女人是勃朗什。悲痛、忌妒和憤怒一下子把他抓住；他一句完整的話也說不出，只是嘶啞地喊叫了一聲。他握緊了拳頭對著看不見的敵人搖晃著。他開始扯直了喉嚨尖叫起來。他快要發瘋了。他實在忍受不了；這簡直太過分了。他向四周看了看，想尋找一件器具，把這幅畫砍個粉碎，一分鐘也不允許它在這個世界上存在。但是身邊并沒有任何合手的武器，他在繪畫用品里翻尋了一遍，不知為什么還是什么也沒有找到。他簡直發狂了。最后他終于找到了他需要的東西——一把刮油彩用的大刮刀。他一把把刮刀抄起來，發出一聲勝利的喊叫，像擎著一把匕首似地向那幅圖畫奔去。
As Stroeve told me this he became as excited as when the incident occurred, and he took hold of a dinner-knife on the table between us, and brandished it. He lifted his arm as though to strike, and then, opening his hand, let it fall with a clatter to the ground. He looked at me with a tremulous smile. He did not speak.
施特略夫給我講這個故事的時候同事情發生的當時一樣激動，他把放在我倆中間桌子上的一把餐刀拿起來，拼命揮舞著。他抬起一只胳臂，仿佛要扎下來的樣子。接著，突然把手一松，刀子哐啷一聲掉在地上。他望著我，聲音顫抖地笑了笑，沒有再說話。
"Fire away," I said.
“快說啊！”我催他道。
"I don't know 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."
“我說不清楚自己是怎么回事，正當我要在畫上戳個大洞的時候，當我已經抬起胳臂正準備往下扎的時候，突然間我好象看見它了。”
"See what?"
“看見什么了？”
"The picture. It was a work of art. I couldn't touch it. I was afraid."
“那幅畫。一件珍貴的藝術品。我不能碰它。我害怕了。”
Stroeve was silent again, and he stared at me with his mouth open and his round blue eyes starting out of his head.
施特略夫又停頓下來，直勾勾地盯著我，張著嘴，一對又藍又圓的眼珠似乎都要凸出來了。
"It was a great, a wonderful picture. I was seized with awe. I had nearly committed a dreadful crime. I moved a little to see it better, and my foot knocked against the scraper. I shuddered."
“那真是一幅偉大的、奇妙的繪畫。我一下子被它震駭住了。我幾乎犯了一樁可怕的罪行。我移動了一下身體，想看得更清楚一些，我的腳踢在刮刀上。我打了個冷戰。”
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