狂人日記

                                                              果戈理

十月三日

今天發生了一件不尋常的事。我早上起得很遲，當瑪夫拉把擦乾淨的長統靴給我送來的時
候，我問她幾點鐘。聽說早已打過了十點鐘，我就盡快地穿起衣服來。我得承認，我是絕
對不會到部裡去的，早就知道我們的科長會繃起一張陰沉的臉。他老是對我說：「老弟，
你怎麼腦子裡老是這麼亂七八槽的？你有時候像瘋子似的東奔西竄，把事情攪得一團槽，
連撤旦也弄不清，你把官銜寫成小寫字母，也不註明日期、號碼。」可惡的長腳鷺鷥！他
一定是忌妒我坐在部長的辦公室裡給大人削鵝毛筆。總而言之，我是不會到部裡去的，要
不是想見到財務員，向這猶太人預交一點官俸的話。這又是一個什麼傢夥啊！要他提前一
個月發官俸——我的老天爺，那還是末日審判會來得快些。不管你怎麼求，就是喊炸了也
罷，窮死了也罷——他總是不給的，這白頭髮的老鬼。可是在家裡，連女廚子都要打他的
嘴巴。這是大家都知道的。我不道在部裡當差有什麼好處。一點財源也沒有。要是在省政
府、民政廳和稅務局裡，情形就完全不同：在那邊，你會看見一個人躲在遠遠一個犄角裡，
塗寫些什麼。他身上的燕尾服髒得要命，那張臉簡直叫人要淬唾沫，可是你瞧，他住著一
棟多麼漂亮的別墅！要是送他一套鍍金的瓷茶杯，他還瞧不上眼哩：「這種禮物，」他說，
「只配送給醫生」，你得送給他一對駿馬，或者一輛彈簧座馬車，或者價值三百盧布的海
狸皮。他的外貌這樣文靜，說起話來這樣細聲慢氣：「請借尊刀給我削削筆」，可是背地
裡，他會把申請人剝得只剽一件襯衫。實在不錯的，我們是清水衙門，什麼都是一清二楚
的，省政府一輩子做夢也別想夢見，桃花心木做的桌子，各科的科長都稱呼您。真個的，
我得承認，要不是為了職務高貴，我早就辭職不幹了。

我穿上了舊外套，拿了傘，因為外面正下著傾盆大雨。街上一個人也沒有，只有用前襟兜
著頭的婆娘們，撐傘的俄國商人們，還有趕馬車的，映入我的眼簾。至於上等人，只有我
們的一位同僚在徜徉漫步。我看見他在十字路口。一看到他，我立刻就對自己說：「啊哈！
別給我裝傻，朋友，你不是上部裡去，你是在追那個走在前面的女人，你在看她一雙白嫩
的腳。」我們的同僚是一個什麼樣的無賴啊！我敢睹咒，他在這方面不比任何一個軍官差：
只要有一個戴花帽子的女人走過，他一定會釘上去。當我這樣想的時候，我看見一輛矯式
馬車開到了我正走過的那家商店門口。我立刻認出了它：這是我們部長的馬車。可是，他
是不會到店裡來買東西的，我想，這一定是他的女兒。我貼近了牆角。從僕打開車門，她
從馬車裡像小鳥似的飛了出來。她怎樣地左右顧盼，眉毛和眼睛怎樣地閃動……我的天啊！
我完蛋了，簡直完蛋了。這樣的下雨天，她幹嗎還要出門！你現在再來硬說女人是不怎麼
喜歡剪衣料的吧。她沒有認出我來，我也故意盡可能地把自己藏起來；因為我身上的外套
髒透了，並且是舊式的。斗篷現在都時興有高領子，我穿的卻是短的雙層領子，並且呢子
是完全沒有噴水經過１（按：小裁縫店製衣，不經過噴了水燙，衣服遇潮即縮）的，她的
小狗來不及跳進店門，留在街上了。我認得這條小狗。她名字叫美班。我站了還不到一分
鐘，忽然聽見一個細小的聲音：「你好，美琪！」哎呀！誰在說話！我向四下裡張望，看
見兩個女人撐著傘在走路，一個老太婆，還有一個年輕的；可是她們已經走過去了，我身
邊又發出聲音來：「你真壞啊，美琪！」該死！我看見美琪在嗅那條跟在兩個女人後回走
的小狗。「嘿！」我對自己說，「留點神，我別是喝醉了吧？這樣的情況可是不大有
的。」「不，菲傑爾，你錯怪了我了，」我明明看見美琪在說話：「我是呀，汪！汪！我
是呀，汪，汪！害了一場大病。」原來說話的是條狗啊！我得承認，我聽見狗說起人話來
是不勝驚奇的。可是後來，把這一切好好兒想了一下，就不覺得奇怪了，說實在的，這樣
的事情世上早巳不乏先例。據說，英國有一條魚浮出水面，用古怪的語言說了兩句話，害
得學者們研究了三年工夫，至今還是無從索解。我又在報上讀到兩頭牛跑到鋪子裡去，要
買一磅茶葉。可是，我得承認，當聽到美琪說出下麵這些話的時候，我更是格外地驚奇：
「我寫過信給你的，菲傑爾；大概是波爾康沒有把我的信送到！」我決沒有撒謊！我有生
以來，從來還沒有聽說過狗會寫信。只有貴族才能夠寫得通順。當然，有些商店單櫃，甚
而至於農奴，也有能動動筆的，可是他們寫起來大都是刻板的老一套：沒有逗點，沒有句
點，沒有文體。

這件事使我大吃了一驚。我得承認，最近以來，我開始常常聽見和看見一些大家聞所末聞、
見所未見的事情。「走吧，」我對自己說，「跟著這條狗走，就會知道她是個什麼人，她
想些什麼」。我撐開傘，跟著兩個女人走去。經過豌豆街，蜇入小市民街，再到木匠街，
最後到了柯庫什金橋，在一家大宅門前面停了下來。「我認得這家人家，」我對自己說，
「這是茲維爾柯夫的家。」這樣一個亂糟糟的大雜院！住在裡面的，三教九流的人都有：
一大群廚娘，一大群波蘭人，至於講到我們的同僚，他們象狗一樣，一個疊一個地擠在一
堆。我有一個朋友也住在這兒，他喇叭吹得挺不壞。兩位太太一直跑到五層樓上去了。
「好吧，」我想，「現在我不必去了，只要記住這地點，將來就會有用處的。」

十月四日

今天是星期三，所以我到部長的辦公室裡去。我故意來得早些，坐下來，把全部鵝毛筆都
削尖了。我們的部長準是一個絕頂聰明的人。他的整個辦公室擺滿了書櫥。我讀了一下幾
本書的書名：淵博之至，淵博得簡直不是我輩所能懂得的：全是些法文書或者德文書。再
看一看他的臉：嚇，一雙眼睛閃著怎樣尊嚴的光啊！我從來沒有聽見他說過一句廢話。除
非當你遞給他公文的時候，他會問：「外邊天氣怎麼樣？」「天氣不好，大人！」我們真
不能跟他相比啊！他是一位身居要津的大人物。不過，我看出他對我倒是大有好感的。要
是他的女兒也……哎呀，下流……沒什麼，沒什麼，別說了！——我讀了《蜜蜂》７。法
國人全是些多麼愚蠢的傢夥！他們說的是些什麼！真個的，我想把他們統統抓起來，用樺
樹棍子抽他們一頓才痛快！我在那上面也讀到了一篇描寫跳舞會的挺有趣的文章，這是一
個庫爾斯克的地主寫的。庫爾斯克的地主們寫得一手好文章。後來，我注意到已經過了十
二點半，我們的上司還沒有從臥室裡出來。可是在一點半鐘的時候，發生了一件遠非筆墨
所能形容的事情。門開了，我以為是部長來了，捧著檔從椅子上直立起來，可是這是她，
她呀！老天爺，她打扮得多麼漂亮，她穿一身白，活像是天鵝：嚇，別提多美啦！只要她
看你一眼：太陽，簡直是太陽！她行著禮，說道：「爸爸不在這兒麼？」哎喲，哎喲！什
麼樣的聲音啊！金絲雀，真的，金絲雀！「小姐，」我想說，「別叫人來處死我，要是您
要我死，那麼，就請用您高貴的手處死我。」可是，見鬼，不知怎麼的，舌頭轉不過來，
我只說了一聲：「不在。」她瞧瞧我，瞧瞧書，掉落了一塊手帕。我飛撲過去，在可惡的
鑲花地板上噗通滑了一跤，差點沒把鼻子磕破，可是到底站穩了，拾起了那塊手帕。天哪，
什麼樣的手帕啊，最細巧的，用上等薄麻紗做的——琥珀，完全是琥珀：光說手帕，就散
發出高貴的味道。她道了謝，微微一笑，幾乎連嘴唇都沒有牽動一下，接著就走掉了。我
又坐了一個鐘頭，僕人忽然進來說：「回家去吧，亞克森齊‧伊凡諾維奇，老爺已經出門
了。」跟僕人打交道我可受不了：他們喜歡懶洋洋地坐在門廳裡，連頭也懶得向你點一下。
這還不算什麼：有一回，一個壞蛋站也不站起來，就想敬煙給我吸。你知道麼，愚蠢的奴
才，我是一個官，我是名門出身哪。於是我拿了帽子，自己穿上了外套，因為這批傢夥是
從來不會侍候你穿衣服的，就走了出去。回到家裡，大部分的時間躺在床上。後來，我抄
了一首很好的詩：「一小時不見寶貝的面，好像別了一年；對生活懷著憎恨，叫我怎麼活
下去！」１（這首詩是十八世紀末的詩人尼古拉耶夫〔1758—1815〕寫的。他有幾首詩成
為當時的流行小調），這該是普希金的。晚間，裹著外套，到小姐門口去等了許久，希望
她會出來，坐上那輛轎車，可以再讓我看她一眼，——然而不，她沒有出來。

十一月六日

科長生氣了。我到了部裡，他把我叫到跟前，對我說，「說吧，你幹了些什麼？」「什麼
幹了些什麼？我什麼也沒有幹呀，」我答道。「放明白些吧！你是四十開外的人了——應
該長點腦子了。虧你不害臊，你當我不知道你的一套鬼把戲麼？你拚命在追部長的大小姐！
喂，你瞧瞧你自己，想想你是個什麼東西？你是個窩囊廢，再不是別的什麼。你身上一個
錢也沒有。到鏡子裡去照照你那副尊容吧，虧你還癡心妄想呢！」見他的鬼，只因為他臉
長得有點像藥鋪裡的玻窩瓶，腦袋瓜上一撮頭髮，捲成劉海，只因為他昂著頭，上了油，
塗得像朵薔薇花似的，他就自以為了不起。我知道，我知道他為什麼生我的氣。他是嫉妒
呀，說不定他已經看出上司對我獨加青睞來了。我真想對他啐唾沫，一個七等文官希罕什
麼！表上掛著金鏈子，定做三十盧布一雙的皮靴——見他的鬼！我難道是個平民，是個裁
縫，或者是個下士的後代麼？我是一位貴族哪。我會步步高陞上去的。我還只有四十二歲
——這正是大有作為的時候。等著瞧吧，朋友！我會做到上校的，也許，天幫忙，官還會
做得大些。名氣還會比你響些。你憑什麼以為，除了你就再沒有—個正派人。給我穿上一
件時式的魯奇１（按：魯奇是當時時髦的裁縫）制的燕尾服，再給我打一個像你一樣的領
結，——那時候，你要做我的鞋底都不配呢。苦的就是沒有錢。

十一月八日

上戲園裡去聽了戲。演的是俄國傻子費拉特卡。把我的肚子都笑痛了。另外還有一出通俗
笑劇，用可笑的詩句講到朝臣們，尤其是講到一個十四等文官，措辭肆無忌撣，我奇怪檢
查官怎麼會通過的，至於講到商人，那就乾脆說他們訛詐人民，縱容兒子闖禍，往貴族堆
裡爬。講到新聞記者，也編了一首滑稽的諷刺詩，說他們喜歡罵倒一切，作者要求公眾支
援。作家們現在寫的都是一些非常可笑的劇本。我愛上戲園。只要袋裡還有一文錢，總忍
不住不去。可是我們的同僚就有這樣的蠢貨：壓根兒不上戲園，這些鄉下佬，除非白送他
戲票。有一個女戲子唱得可真棒。我想起了那個人兒……哎呀，下梳……沒什麼，沒什麼
……別說了。

十一月九日

我在八點鐘到部裡去。科長頭也不抬，彷彿沒有看見我進來。我也裝作好像我們之間什麼
事情也沒有發生似的。我披覽並校正文稿。四點鐘下班。走過部長的住宅，但一個人也沒
有看見。飯後，大部分的時間躺在床上。

十一月十一日

今天坐在我們部長的辦公室裡，結他削了二十三枝鵝毛筆，給她呢，哎喲！哎喲……給小
姐削了四枝。他是喜歡筆筒裡多插幾枝筆的。呵！他該是一個了不起的人！老是沉默不語，
可是我想，腦子裡一定在深思熟慮。我真想知道他想得最多的是什麼。腦子裡在打些什麼
主意。我想更逼近地看看這些先生們的生活，一切這些雙關語和繁文縟禮，他們在自己的
圈子裡怎樣生活，做些什麼——這才正是我想知道的！我好幾次想跟六人攀談攀談，可是
見鬼，舌頭總不聽使喚：只說了天氣冷或者天氣熱，話就說不下去了。我想窺望一下客廳，
——有時候你只能看到一扇打開的門，客廳那頭還有另外一間房間。嚇，陳設得多麼富麗
堂皇！什麼樣的鏡子和磁器啊！我想窺望一下小姐住的地方，我真想到那地方去啊？期望
一下她的閨房，看看擺在那兒的那許多瓶兒、罐兒，吹一口氣就怕吹破的嬌嫩的花，還有
她脫掉的衣服，看來不像是衣服，倒更像一堆空氣。我想窺望一下臥室……我想，那兒一
定是一個不可思議的地方，一定是天堂，連天上也不會有的天堂。我想瞧瞧她起床後用來
擱腳的那只踏腳凳，她怎樣在白嫩的腳上穿上雪白的襪子……哎喲！哎喲，沒什麼，沒什
麼……別說了。

然而，今天我好像是看到了一線光明，我記起了我在涅瓦大街上聽到的那兩條狗的談話。
好吧，我心裡想：我這就要打聽出個水落石出。必須把這兩條倒楣狗的通信弄到手才好。
我從那裡面一定會探聽到一些什麼的。我得承認，我有一回還把美琪叫到了跟前，說道：
「聽我說，美琪，現在這兒沒有外人，你要是不放心，我還可以把門關上，不叫任何人看
見，休把你所切道的關于小姐的一切告訴我。她是個什麼樣的人？她在幹些什麼？我擔保，
我決不洩漏給任何人知道。」可是狡猾的狗夾緊尾巴縮做一團，悄悄地從門縫裡溜掉了，
好像什麼也沒有聽見似的。我早就猜想，狗比人要聰明得多；我甚至相信狗會說話，不過
她有一種擰脾氣罷了。她是一個了不起的政治家：她注意一切，注意人的一舉一動。不，
無論如何，我明天要上茲維爾柯夫家裡去，打聽一下菲傑爾，要是事情順利，我就可以把
美琪寫結她的全部信件弄到手裡。

十一月十二日

我在午後兩點鐘出門，一定要找到菲傑爾，向她打聽一下。我頂受不了捲心萊，它那股氣
味從小市民街所有一切的雜貨鋪裡散發出來；再加上從每一家人家的門縫裡流出這樣一種
熏死人的惡臭，使我不得不捂緊鼻子，三腳兩步地趕快跑開。還有那些低三下四的工人從
工場裡倒出來這麼多的煙渣和煤灰，叫一個上等人簡直沒法在這一帶溜躂。我爬到第六層
樓，搖了一下門鈴，一個長得不算環、臉上咱一些小雀斑的小姑娘走了出來。我認出了她。
就是那天跟老太婆一塊走路的那一個。她稍微紅了一下臉，我立刻恍然大悟：女大不中留，
你在想姑爺哪。「您有什麼事麼？」她問我。「我需要跟您的小狗談談。」小姑娘怔得呆
了！我一下子就看出來，她呆得可以：這時候小狗吠著跑過來，我想一把抓住它，可是，
這壞東西，差點沒有咬掉我的鼻子。然而我看到椅角裡有它的一個窠兒。哈，這正是我所
需要的！我走過去，撥開木箱裡的稻草，出乎我意外的高興，抽出了一小捆小紙片。該死
的狗，看到這樣，先來咬我的小腿肚，後來嗅出我拿到了紙片，就開始唧唧哀鳴，親呢我，
可是我說：「別給我來這一套，親愛的，再見啦！」掉過頭就跑開了。我想，那小姑娘一
定把我當成瘋子看待了，因為她顯得非常驚慌。回到家裡，我想立刻就來研究這些信件，
因為我在蠟燭光下眼睛看不大清楚。可是瑪夫拉想起要擦地板了，這些愚蠢的芬蘭女人總
是在不適當的時候死要乾淨。因此，我就出去溜了一個彎，把這件奇遇前前後後揣摩一下。
這一回我終於要把整個事件、計劃，一切這些動機探聽清楚，終於要挖個根兒。這些信件
會把一切都向我說明的。狗是聰明的傢夥，它們懂得一切政治關係，所以信裡一定什麼都
記載著：這人的外貌和全部經歷。信裡一定也會講到那個人兒……沒什麼，別說了！傍晚
時分，我回到了家裡。大部分的時間躺在床上。

十一月十三日

我們來瞧瞧這些信吧：信是寫得流暢可讀的。然而筆跡總有點狗腔狗調。我們念下去吧：
    親愛的菲傑爾！我總看不慣你這個小市民式的名字。難道就不能給你起一個好一些的
麼？?菲傑爾啦，羅莎啦——多麼俗氣，然而這一切都不用提啦。我很高興我們決定今後
常常通信。
信是寫得一筆不苟。標點符號，甚至字母 B 都用得非常恰當。就是我們的科長也未必寫得
出，雖然他吹牛他在什麼大學裡讀過書。再往下念吧：
    我認為，能同別人的思想、感覺和印象起共鳴，是世界上一種最大的幸福。

哼！這一點思想是從一部由德文譯出的作品裡摘引出來的，書名可不記得了。

我是根據經驗說這話的，雖然我足不出戶。難道我的生活過得還不滿足麼？我的小姐，爸
爸管她叫莎菲的，喜歡得我要命。

哎呀，哎呀！……沒什麼，沒什麼。不說了！

爸爸也常常跑來親暱我。我喝加奶油的茶和咖啡。啊，Machere １(按：法語，親愛的)，
我必須告訴你，我對於波爾康在廚房裡抱著大嚼的早已啃光了肉的大骨頭一點也不感覺興
趣。只有野禽的骨頭才有味道，並且還須在沒有把骨髓吸乾的時候。把幾種汁子混在一起，
是很好吃的，但不要有白花菜和蔬菜，可是，我不知道再有比擲給狗吃麵包搓成的小圓球
更環的習慣了。坐在桌上的一位先生，手裡什麼髒東西都經過了，他就用這雙手搓麵包，
把你叫到跟前，把小圓球塞到你的牙齒縫裡。卸之不恭，你就只能吃下去：厭惡，可是總
得吃……

鬼知道這算是什麼玩意兒，這些廢話！彷彿沒有更好的題目可以寫似的。我們翻過另外一
頁來讀吧。不知道是否可以讀—些更有價值的。

我樂意把我們家裡發生的一切的事報告給你聽。我已經跟你談起過一點這位主要的先生，
就是莎菲管他叫爸爸的。這是一個古怪的人。

啊，終於找到了！是的？我知道的：他們對於一切事物有著政治家的眼光。我們且看爸爸
是怎樣一個人物：

……一個古怪的人。他老是沉默著。話說得非常少。可是一星期之前，他不斷地自言自語，
得到，還是很不到?一隻手捏一張紙，另外一隻手捏個空拳，說：得到，還是得不到？有
一次，他向我發問，你怎麼想呀，美琪？得到，還是得不到？我簡直一點也弄不懂，嗅嗅
他的靴子，就走掉了。後來，親愛的，過了一星期，爸爸得意洋洋地回來了。整整一早晨，
全是些穿制服的先生們來拜會他，向他道賀些什麼。在飯桌上，爸爸那副高興的勁兒是我
從來沒有看見過的，講了許多笑話，飯後把我樓在他頸脖上，說道，「瞧呀美琪，這是什
麼？我看見一根帶子１。我嗅了嗅它，可是一點香味也聞不出來，臨了，偷偷地，我舐了
一下：有點鹹味兒。

哼！我覺得這條小狗未免太那個……簡直該打！啊！他原來是一個愛慕虛榮的人，這一點
必須牢記在心裡。

再見！親愛的，我要走開了，諸如此類等等……明天再來寫完這封信……你好！我現在又
來跟你筆談了。今天我的小姐莎菲……

阿！好吧，我們來看莎菲是一個怎樣的人。哎呀，下流！……沒什麼，沒什麼……我們念
下去。

……我的小姐莎菲心情十分不寧。她準備參加跳舞會去，我巴不得她快點走悼，我好當她
不在的時候給她寫信。我的莎菲若是喜歡去赴跳舞會，雖然她在梳妝打扮的時候，總要生
一場閒氣。親愛的，我怎麼也弄不明白，跳舞有什麼開心。莎菲直要到早晨六點鐘跳完舞
回家，我幾乎總可以從她蒼白消瘦的臉上看出來，人家在那邊沒有給可憐的孩子吃過東西。
說實在話，這種日子我可是過不來。要是不給我吃鵪鶉汁子或者燉雞翅膀，那……我不知
道我將怎麼活下去。把汁子摻和在粥裡，也是很好吃的。可是，紅蘿蔔、白蘿蔔或者朝鮮
薊，就一點也不好吃……

完全牛頭不對馬嘴的文體。一眼就可以看出，不是出於人的手筆。開頭很合章法，結束就
有點狗腔狗調。我們再來看一封信吧。太長了一點。哼！並且也沒有註明日期。

哎呀！親愛的，春天的來臨是多麼可以令人感觸到的呀！我的心跳動著，好像老是在等待
什麼人似的。我的耳畔老是嗡嗡作響。所以我常常舉起一隻腳，好幾分鐘佇立在那兒，傾
聽門外的聲音。告訴你實話，有不少人追求我哪。我常常坐在陽臺上觀察他們。阿！你才
不知道他們有的長得多麼醜呢。有一條笨頭笨腦的看家狗，瘦得不得了，一臉的蠢相，他
大模大樣地在銜上走，自以為是個了不起的人物，大家都要停下來看他一眼。根本沒有這
回事：我就連正眼也不望他一下，就當沒有瞧見他一樣。還有一條多麼可怕的猛犬逗留在
我的窗前啊！他要是用後爪站起來，——蠢傢夥大概是不會這一招的——他會比莎非那個
又高又胖的爸爸高出一個頭來。這楞小子恐怕是頂不要臉的。我對他低吼著，他卻毫不在
乎。眉毛也不皺一下？伸長舌頭，舞動著大耳朵，向窗口直眉瞪眼絕望著——這樣的一個
鄉下佬！可是，親愛的，你以為我對於—切的追求都無動於衷麼，——阿，才不呢……你
還沒有看見從隔壁籬笆縫裡爬過來的那位騎士，他的名字叫特列索爾。啊，親愛的，他有
一張多麼惹人愛的小臉蛋呀！

咄，見他的鬼！……簡直胡說八道……怎麼可以把這些魔話寫在信裡？給我寫點人物！我
要看人；我要的是滋養並慰娛靈魂的養科；可是代替這些，看到的都是連篇廢話……我們
翻過一頁來看吧，是否還有中聽些的：

……莎菲坐在桌子旁邊，在縫些什麼。我望著窗外，因為我喜次眺望來來往往的過路人。
忽然僕人進來了，說道，「泰普洛夫請見！」「請進來，」莎菲喊，一下於跑過來摟住了
我。「啊，美琪，美琪，你知道他是誰，一個頭髮烏黑的漂亮小夥子，一位侍從官，他有
一雙多麼吸引人的眼睛！又黑又亮，像一團火」。莎菲跑到自己房間裡去了。過了一分鐘，
進來了一個長著黑色絡腮鬍子的年輕侍從官，他走到鏡子前面，攏了攏頭髮，向四下裡張
望。我嘰咕著，在老地方坐下來。莎菲不久也進來了，滿面春風地彎腰行禮，來回答他的
碰腳禮；而我呢，我裝作什麼都沒有看見，繼續望著窗外，不過把腦袋稍微向旁邊歪著些，
想聽清楚他們說些什麼。啊，親愛的，他們講些什麼渾話啊，他們講到一位太太在跳舞時
本來應該跳一種姿勢，結果跳成了另外一種姿勢？又有一個波波夫打著個花領結，活像只
仙鶴，差點沒有摔倒在地上，一個李丁娜自以為有一雙藍眼睛，其實卻是綠色的，——諸
如此類的話。我心裡想，這侍從官怎麼比得上特列索爾呢！老天爺，差遠去啦！第一，侍
從官有一張大扁臉，四周全是絡腮鬍子，彷彿他用一塊黑布把臉包了起來似的，特列索爾
卻有一張小瓜子臉，額上有一塊白斑。特列索爾的腰身也不是侍從官所能比得上的。還有
眼睛呀、風度呀！舉動呀，全不一樣。多大的差別啊！我不懂她召上了侍從官點什麼。她
怎麼會被他迷住的！

也覺得這中間出了鬼。侍從官這樣使她傾倒，是不可思議的。再念下去：

我認為，她要是會愛上侍從官，那麼、她也應該會愛上坐在爸爸辦公室裡的那個官。啊，
親愛的，你不知道這人長很多麼醜。簡直像一隻裝在麻袋裡的烏龜……

這個官會是誰呢？

他的姓怪得很。他老是坐著削鵝毛筆。腦袋瓜上的頭髮像一把稻草。爸爸常常把他當僕人
使喚……
我想這卑劣的狗好像是在講我。我的頭髮怎麼像一把稻草？

　莎菲看到他就忍不住要笑！

你撒謊，可惡的狗！你敢這樣血口噴人！莫非我不知道這是出於嫉妒，這是誰在玩手段。
這全是科長玩的手段。這人和我有不共戴天之仇——所以他就破壞，破壞，每一步都要破
壞我。然而我們再來讀一封信吧。也許在這一封信裡，真相會弄明白的。

親愛的菲傑爾，好久沒有寫信給你，乞諒。我正迷戀著呢。一個作家說得對，戀愛是人的
第二生命。同時，此刻我們家裡也發生了大的變動。侍從官每天上我們這兒來。莎菲愛得
他要發瘋。爸爸心裡十分高興。我甚至聽到喜歡自言自語的、搽地板的德利戈裡說，不久
就要辦喜事啦：因為爸爸一定要莎菲嫁給一位將軍，或者一位侍從官，或者一位陸軍上校。
……

見他的鬼，我再也念不下去了……老是侍從官和將軍。世界上一切最好的東西，都讓侍從
官或者將軍霸佔去了。你剛找到一點可憐的值錢的東西，滿以為伸手就可以得到，——侍
從官或者將軍立刻就從你手裡把它奪走。真是活見鬼！我也想當一下將軍，倒不是為了便
於求婚。不！我想當將軍，為的是要看看這些人怎樣在我面前搖頭擺尾地討好，玩出各種
各樣的繁文縟禮和雙關語，然後我要對父女兩個說：我向你們吐唾沫。活見鬼。真氣人!
我把這只愚蠢的狗的信扯了個粉碎。

十二月三日

這是不可能的。瞎扯淡！這門親事決成不了！他是個侍從官，這算得了什麼，爵位不過是
爵位罷了；並不是什麼眼睛看得見、伸手模得著的東西。做了個侍從官，腦袋上又不會多
生一隻眼睛。他的鼻子又不是金子打的，跟我的一樣，也跟任何人的一樣。他用鼻子聞東
西，卻不是用來吃飯，用它打噴嚏，卻不是用來咳嗽。我好幾次想研究明白，為什麼人要
分成許多等級。我為什麼是個九等文官，憑什麼我是個九等文官？我也許是一位伯爵或者
將軍，不過外表看來是個九等文官？也許，我自己也不知道我是個什麼。歷史上是不乏先
例的：原本是一個老百姓，不一定是貴族，只不過是一個小市民，甚至是一個農民——忽
然卻發現他實在是一位大臣，有時候甚至是皇上喬裝改扮的。一個農民尚且這樣變幻莫測，
一個貴族更會變成什麼樣子呢？譬如說，平地一聲雷，我會穿上將軍的制服：右邊一個肩
章，左邊一個肩章，橫穿肩膀一條藍帶子——那時候該怎麼著！我的美人兒會有什麼表示？
爸爸，我們的部長，會怎麼說呢？這個極度愛慕虛榮的人啊：他是個共濟會７會員，一定
是個共濟會會員，雖然他裝模作樣，可是我一眼就看出他是個共濟會會員：他要是跟人握
手，總是只伸出兩個手指頭的。難道不能立刻欽賜我總督、軍需官或者什麼別的官銜麼？
我想知道我為什麼是個九等文官?為什麼恰巧非是個九等文官不可！

十二月五日

我今天讀了一早晨的報。西班牙發生了一些奇怪的事情。我簡直猜不透到底是怎麼一向事。
報上寫著，皇帝遜位了，官員們為了遴選繼承人，陷於非常困難的狀況，所以發生出叛亂
來了。我覺得這是十分奇怪的。皇帝怎麼可以遜位呢？據說一位女貴族應該繼承帝位。女
貴族可千萬不能繼承帝位。無論如何不行。繼承帝位的應該是皇帝。人們說，皇帝沒有，
——沒有皇帝，那可不行。國不可以一日無君啊。皇帝是有的，不過他躲藏在什麼地方？
大家不知道罷了。他也許就在國內，可是為了某種家庭的原因，或者因為受到鄰邦例如法
國或其他國家的威脅，不得不躲藏起來，或者還有別的原因。
十二月八日

我本來早就要到部裡去了，可是種種原因和顧慮阻止了我。我說什麼也忘不掉西班牙的那
一回事。女貴族怎麼能夠當皇上呢？這太不像話了。首先，英國就不會答應。其次，還有
整個歐洲的政治形勢：奧國皇帝啦，我們的聖上啦……我得承認，這些事變使我煩惱和震
動到這步田地，一整天簡直什麼事也沒幹成。瑪夫拉告訴我，我吃飯時心神非常恍惚。這
是實在的，我茫然地摔了兩隻碟子，在地上砸了個粉碎。飯後我到山腳邊去溜躂。一點也
得不出什麼有益的結論來。大部分的時間躺在床上，考慮西班牙問題。

兩千年四月三十四日

今天是值得大大慶祝的一天！西班牙有了皇帝了。他被找到了。這皇帝就是我。直到今天
我才明白過來。我得承認，我好像突然被一道閃電照亮了。我不懂以前怎麼能夠設想自己
是一個九等文官。腦子裡怎麼會生出這種瘋癲的想法！那時候沒有人把我送到病人院裡去，
總算是不幸中之大幸。現在，一切都明明白白的擺在我面前。現在，一切都瞭如指掌了。
而在從前，我是不明白的，從前一切都像籠罩在霧裡。我想，這都是因為人們設想腦子是
在腦袋裡的緣故；事實不然，腦子是被一陣風從裡海那邊吹來的。我首先告訴了瑪夫拉我
是個什麼人。當她聽說西班牙皇帝站在她面前的時候，她擺動雙手，差點嚇死過去。這蠢
東西還從來沒有看見過西班牙皇帝呢。然而我努力要使她安靜下來，用溫存的話諄諄相勸，
要她相信我的好意，我決不因為她有時候給我皮靴擦得不亮而降罪於她。她可是一個無理
可喻的俗物。這些人你不能跟他們宣諭高尚的道理。她害怕，是因為她相信一切西班牙的
皇帝都像菲力浦二世一樣。可是我告訴她，我跟菲力浦絲毫沒有相似之處，我手下沒有一
個托缽僧……我沒有上部裡去。滾他媽的！不，朋友們，你們別想再引我上鉤，我再也不
給你們抄寫那些臭檔了！
三十月八十六日。晝與夜之間。

我們的庶務官今天來通知我：要我到部裡去，說我已經有三個多星期不上班了。我為了瞧
熱鬧，就應邀前往。科長以為我要向他鞠躬，道歉，可是我冷冷地瞧著他，不大牛氣，也
不太高興，在自己的位子上坐下來，好像什麼人也沒有瞧見似的。我望著這群瘟官們，想：
你們還不知道准坐在你們的中間哪……老天爺，你們要是知道了，就會怎樣地騷動起來，
連科長都會向我鞠一百八十度的躬，正像他現在向部長鞠躬一樣。我面前放了幾件文件，
要我摘由。可是我連手指也沒有去碰一下。過了幾分鐘，人聲鼎沸。大家在說部長來了。
許多官員爭先恐後地跑著，為了要在他面前表現自己。可是我一動也不動。當他走過我們
科裡的時候，大家把燕尾服上的鈕扣扣起來，我可決不這樣做！部長算個什麼東西：要我
在他面前站起來——休想：他是個什麼部長？他是個塞子，卻不是部長。一個普通的塞子，
一個平平常常的塞子，再不是別的什麼。就是用來塞瓶子的軟木塞。當他們拿文件來叫我
簽字的時候，我好笑得要噴飯。他們以為我會在文件的最末尾簽字：某某股長。還會有什
麼別的呢：不料我卻在應該由部長簽字的最顯著的地位不慌不忙地塗了幾個大字，費迪南
八世。這下子，大家都肅然沉默起來了：可是我只揮了揮手，說：「你們用不著多禮！」
說完，就走掉了。我打那兒直奔部長的住宅。他不在家。僕人想攔阻我，可是我說了幾句
話，他就把手放了下來。我一直跑到化妝室。她正坐在鏡子前面，看見了我，就跳起來，
倒退了幾步。然而我沒有告訴她我是西班牙皇帝。我只對她說，她所想像不到的幸福正在
等待著她，不管敵人千方百計陷害，有情人終要結成眷屬。我不想再說別的什麼，掉頭就
走掉了。女人真是狡猾的傢夥啊！我現在才知道女人是怎樣的東西。直到現在，從來還沒
有人知道，她愛的是誰，是我首先發現了這一點的。女人愛的是鬼。是的，我不是開玩笑。
物理學家寫了許多愚蠢的話，說她這樣長，那樣短，——其實她喜歡的只有鬼。那兒，你
瞧，在第一層包廂裡，她拿著有柄眼鏡。你以為她在看那個戴星章的胖子麼？才不呢，她
在看站在他背後的鬼。鬼躲在胖子的星章裡面。他在那兒向她招手！於是她死乞白賴就要
嫁給他。就娶嫁給他。這一大批人，他們做官的父親們，這一大批吹牛拍馬、趨炎附勢的
人，老說自己是愛國分子，其實他們要的就是地祖，地租！為了錢，他們甘心出賣父親、
母親、上帝，這些愛慕虛榮的傢夥，出賣基督的人，這一切都是虛榮，虛榮是因為舌頭下
麵有一個小水泡，小水泡裡面有一條象針頭大小的蟲，而這一切，都是一個住在豌豆街的
理髮師安排的。我不記得他叫什麼名字。可是這一切的幕後策動人是一個土耳其國王，他
收買了理髮師，想在全世界傳播伊斯蘭教。據說，大部分法國人都已經相信穆罕默德了。

某日。沒有日期的一天。

我在涅瓦大街上微服察訪。皇帝陛下剛好在這條街上經過。大家脫帽致敬，我也跟著這樣
做；不過，我沒有顯示出我是個西班牙皇帝。我認為，當著眾人說出我的身份，是失禮的。
因為我首先應該進宮覲見。我直到現在還沒有進宮去，只是因為我沒有皇帝的制服。只要
有一件斗篷也就可以了。我想到裁縫店裡去定制一件，又怕裁縫全是些蠢驢，同時他們做
活又不地道，盡想做投機買賣，一天到晚在鋪石子路。我決心把一件只穿過兩回的新制服
拿來改做。可是為了不叫這些壞蛋把東西糟蹋起見，我決定自己來縫，把門關得嚴嚴的，
不讓任何人看見。我用剪子把它完全裁開了，因為式樣應該與眾不同才好。
日期不記得。也沒有月份。鬼知道是什麼日子。

皇袍完全縫好了。當我穿上它的時候，瑪夫拉大叫了起來。然而我還躊躇著沒有進宮去。
直到現在，西班牙還沒有派使節團來。不帶幾個使節同去，是失禮的。我的威嚴就沒有份
量了。我每時每刻都在等待著他們。
一日

他們的姍姍來遲，使我很吃驚。什麼原因叫他們耽擱下來的呢？是法國在搗鬼麼？不錯，
這是一個最懷有惡意的強權國家。我上郵政局去打聽了一下：西班牙使節們到了沒有？可
是郵政局長非常愚蠢，什麼也不知道，不，他說，這兒沒有什麼西斑牙使節，如果要寄信，
我們可以照規定的價錢收費。——見他的鬼：信是什麼？信是扯淡！藥劑師才寫信呢……

馬德里 月二日三十

這樣，我來到了西班牙，事情發生得這麼快，我直到現在還沒有清醒過來呢。今天一清早，
西班牙使節們到我家裡來，我們就一起坐上了馬車。那速度之快，使我覺得奇怪。我們走
得這樣神速，不到半個鐘頭，就到達了西班牙國度。也難怪，現在整個歐洲都通了火車，
並且輪船也是行駛得很快的。西班牙真是一個奇怪的國家：走進第一間房間，我就看到，
許多人都剃光了頭。然而我猜想，他們準是黑袍僧或者托缽僧之流，因為他們都是削髮的。
我覺得那位拉住我手的宰相舉動非常古怪；他把我推到一間小房間裡去，說：坐在這兒，
你要是再稱呼自己費迪南皇帝，我就要給你厲害瞧。可是我知道這只是一種考驗，我就不
客氣地拒絕了他，宰相因此就用棍子在我背脊上狠狠地打了兩下，痛得我幾乎要喊起來，
可是我忍住了，想起這是天降大任之前的一種騎士風俗，因為在西班牙，直到現在還流行
著騎士風俗呢。當剩下我一個人的時候，我決定要視理國政。我發現中國和西班牙原來同
是一國，只是因為愚昧無知，人們才把它們認做兩個不同的國家。列位要是不信，我奉勸
列位把西班牙寫在紙上，結果就會變成中國的。可是，明天將要發生的一件大事情使我非
常發愁。明天七點鐘，將發生一種奇怪的現象，地球要坐到月亮上去。著名的英國化學家
威靈頓也講到過這一點。我得承認，當我想到月亮是非常柔軟脆弱的時候，心裡就煩亂不
安起來。月亮普通都是在漢堡做的；做得很不行。我納悶兒英國為什麼不注意到這件事。
這是一個瘸腿的箍桶匠做的，這傻瓜顯然不懂得月亮應該怎麼做。他用了塗樹脂的粗繩索
和一部分樹油，因此在整個地球上就發出這樣一種古怪的臭味，使你不得不掩住鼻子。也
因此，月亮才是一個柔軟的球，人們不能住在那上面，現在住在那上面的只有鼻子。也正
因為這樣，所以我們自己看不見自己的鼻子，因為它們都到了月亮上面去了。當我想到地
球是一個龐然大物，一屁股坐上去，會把我們的鼻子房成粉碎的時候，我害伯極了，急急
忙忙穿了襪和鞋子趕到國務院大廳去，下令軍警別讓地球坐到月亮上去。我在國務院大廳
碰見的許多托缽僧，是非常聰明的人，我喊道：「先生們，快快救月亮，因為地球想坐到
它上面去」，他們立刻就來執行我的聖旨，許多人爬到場上，要去掐月亮，可是這時候，
宰相進來了。大家一看見他，就一哄而散。我是皇帝，所以一個人留了下來。可是出乎我
意料之外，宰相競用棍子打我，把我進到我的房間裡去。民族風俗在西班牙發揮著這樣大
的力量啊！

同年接在二月之後的一月

直到現在，我還是不懂西班牙是一個什麼國度。民族風俗和宮廷的禮節都是非常特別的。
我不明白，不明白，一點也不明白。今天他們把我剃光了頭，不管我拚命地喊，說不願意
當和尚。可是我已經記不清，當他們用冷水饒我的頭的時候，我遇到了一些什麼事情。我
還從來沒有受過這樣的活罪。我簡直要發瘋了，他們一時很難制止住我的脾氣。我完全不
明白這種古怪的風俗有什麼意義。這是一種愚蠢的、蠻不講理的風俗！我不懂皇帝們為什
麼這樣糊塗，直到現在還不把它廢除。瞧樣子我恐怕會受到宗教裁判，而那個我把他當成
宰相看待的人，沒準兒是一位大審判官哩。可是我還是不明白，皇帝為什麼要受宗教裁判。
這一定是法國那邊興出來的，特別是波力涅克（按：法國政治家）波力捏克這個畜生啊！
他和我勢不兩立，一直到死。於是他一次兩次地迫害我；可是我知道，朋友，你是被一個
英國人操縱著的。英國人是大改治家。他到處甜言蜜語耍花招。全世界的人早就知道：英
國聞鼻煙，法國就要打噴嚏。

二十五日

今天大審判官到我房間裡來，可是我遠遠聽見他的腳步聲就躲在椅子底下去了。他瞧見我
不在，就開始叫我。開頭他喊：波普裡希欽！——我不作聲。後來又喊，亞克森齊‧伊凡
諾夫，九等文官！貴族！——我仍舊沉默。——費迪南八世，西班牙皇帝！——我想把頭
鑽出去，可是後來一想：不，老弟，別來哄我！我知道你這一手！又該用冷水澆我的頭了。
可是他已經看見了我，就用棍子把我從椅子下面趕了出來。可惡的棍子打得我好痛。然而，
今天的一個新發見把這一切痛楚都給我補償了：我發見每一隻雄雞身上都有一個西班牙，
那是在它的翅膀下面。大審判官悻悻然地從我身邊走開了，威脅說要給我懲罰。可是我完
全蔑視他的無力的仇恨，知道他不過是一架機器，不過是英國人手裡的工具罷了。

不，我再也沒有力量忍受下去了。天哪！他們怎樣地對待我？他們用冷水澆我的頭？他們
不關心我，不看我，也不聽我說話。我哪一點對不起他們？他們幹嗎要折磨我？他們要我
這可憐蟲怎麼樣？我能夠給他們什麼？我什麼也沒有呀。我精疲力盡，再也受不了他們這
些折磨，我的腦袋發燒，一切東西都在我眼前打轉，救救我吧！把我帶走，給我一輛快得
像旋風一樣的雪橇。開車呀，我的馭者，響起來呀，我的鈴鐸，飛奔呀，馬，帶我離開這
世界！再遠些，再運些，我什麼都不要看見。天幕在我眼前迴旋，星星在遠處閃爍；森林
連同黑魆魆的樹木和新月一起疾馳，灰藍色的霧靄呈在腳下，霧裡有絃索在響，一邊是大
海，另外一邊是義大利；那邊又現出俄國的小木匡。遠處發藍色的是不是我的家？坐在窗
前的是不是我的老娘？媽呀，救救你可憐的孩子吧，把跟淚滴在他熱病的頭上？瞧他們是
怎樣地折磨他啊！把可憐的孤兒摟在你的懷裡吧！這世上沒有他安身的地方！大家迫害他！
——媽呀！可憐可憐患病的孩子吧！……

知道不知道在阿爾及利亞知事的鼻子下面長著一個瘤？
DIARY OF A MADMAN

October 3rd

Something very peculiar happened today. I got up rather late, and when Mavra brought
my clean shoes in I asked her what the time was. When she told me it was long past ten I rushed
to get dressed. To be honest with you, if I’d known the sour look I was going to get from the
head of our department I wouldn’t have gone to the office at all. For some time now he’s been
saying: ‘Why are you always in such a muddle? Sometimes you rush around like a madman and
make such a mess of your work, the devil himself couldn’t sort it out. You start paragraphs with
small letters and leave out the date and reference number altogether.’ Damned old buzzard!
Seeing me in the Director’s office sharpening His Excellency’s quills1 must have made him
jealous. To cut a long story short, I’d never have gone to the office in the first place if there
hadn’t been a good chance of seeing the cashier and making the old Jew cough up a small
advance somehow or other. What a man! The Last Judgement will be upon us before you can
get a month’s pay out of him in advance. Even if you’re down to your last copeck, you can go on
asking until you’re blue in the face, but that grey-haired old devil won’t give in. I’ve heard people
say his own cook slaps him on the face in his flat. The whole world knows about it. I don’t see
there’s any advantage working in our department. No perks at all. It’s a different story in the
Provincial Administration or in the Civil or Treasury Offices. You’ll see someone sitting there
curled up in a corner scribbling away. He’ll be wearing a filthy old frock-coat and just one look at
his mug is enough to make you spit. But you should see the country house he rents! Just offer
him a gilt china cup and all he’ll say is: ‘That’s what you give a doctor!’ He’ll only be satisfied with
a pair of racehorses, or a droshky, or a beaver skin that cost three hundred roubles. To look at
him you’d think he was so meek and mild, and he talks with such refinement: ‘Please be so good
as to lend me that little knife to sharpen my quills.’ But just give him the chance and he’ll strip
any petitioner until there’s only the shirt left on his back. I must admit, it’s very civilized working
in our department, everything’s kept cleaner than you’ll ever see in a provincial office. And we
have mahogany tables, and all the Principals use the polite form of address. But really, if it
weren’t for the snob value, I’d have given in my notice long ago.

I put on my old overcoat and took my umbrella, as it was simply teeming down outside.
There wasn’t a soul about; except for a few old peasant women sheltering under their skirts,
some Russian merchants under their umbrellas and one or two messengers. As for better-class
people, there weren’t any, except for one of our civil servants. I spotted him at the crossroads.
As soon as I saw him I said to myself: ‘Aha, you’re not going to the office, my friend, you’re after
that girl dashing along over there – and having a good look at her pretty little ankles into the
bargain.’ What beasts our civil servants are! Good God, they’d leave any officer standing and get
their claws into anything that goes past in a bonnet. While I was engrossed with these thoughts,
a carriage drew up in front of a shop I happened to be passing. I saw at once this was our
Director’s. He couldn’t be wanting anything in there, so he must have called for his daughter, I
thought. I flattened myself against the wall. A footman opened the carriage door and out she
fluttered, just like a little bird. The way she looked first to the right, then to the left, her eyes and
her eyebrows flashing past… God in heaven, I thought, I’m lost, lost forever! Strange she should
venture out in all that rain! Now just you try and tell me women aren’t mad on clothes. She
didn’t recognize me, and I tried to muffle myself up as best I could, because my overcoat,
besides being covered all over in stains, had gone out of fashion ages ago. Nowadays they’re all
wearing coats with long collars, but mine were short, one over the other. And you couldn’t
really say the cloth had been waterproofed.

Her little dog wasn’t quite quick enough to nip in after her and had to stay out in the
street. I’d seen that dog before. She’s called Medji. I hadn’t been there more than a minute
when I heard a faint little voice: ‘Hullo, Medji!’ Well, I never! Who was that talking? I looked
around and saw two ladies walking along under an umbrella: one was old, but her companion
was quite young. They’d already gone past when I heard that voice again: ‘Shame on you,
Medji!’ What was going on, for heaven’s sake? Then I saw Medji sniffing round a little dog
following the two ladies. ‘Aha,’ I said to myself, ‘It can’t be true, I must be drunk.’ But I hardly
ever drink. ‘No Fidèle, you’re quite mistaken.’ With my own eyes I actually saw Medji mouth
these words: ‘I’ve been, bow wow, very ill, bow wow.’ Ah, you nasty little dog! I must confess I
was staggered to hear it speak just like a human being. But afterwards, when I’d time to think
about it, my amazement wore off. In fact, several similar cases have already been reported. It’s
said that in England a fish swam to the surface and said two words in such a strange language
the professors have been racking their brains for three years now to discover what it was, so far
without success. What’s more, I read somewhere in the papers about two cows going into a
shop to ask for a pound of tea. Honestly, I was much more startled when I heard Medji say: ‘I
did write to you, Fidèle. Polkan2 couldn’t have delivered my letter.’ I’d stake my salary that that
was what the dog said. Never in my life have I heard of a dog that could write. Only noblemen
know how to write correctly. Of course, you’ll always find some traders or shopkeepers, even
serfs, who can scribble away: but they write like machines – no commas or full stops, and simply
no idea of style.

I was really astonished at all this. To be frank, quite recently I’ve started hearing and
seeing things I’d never heard or seen before. So I said to myself, ‘I’d better follow this dog and
find out who she is and what she’s thinking about.’ I unrolled my umbrella and followed the two
ladies. We crossed Gorokhovaya Street, turned into Meshchanskaya Street, then Stolyanaya
Street,3 until we got to Kokushkin Bridge and stopped in front of a large house. ‘I know this
house,’ I said to myself; ‘it’s Zverkov’s.’4 What a dump! Everybody seems to live there: crowds of
cooks, foreigners, civil servants. They live just like dogs, all on top of each other. A friend of mine
who plays the trumpet very well lives there. The ladies went up to the fifth floor. ‘Fine,’ I
thought. ‘I shan’t go in now, but I’ll make a note of the address and come back as soon as I have
a moment to spare.’

October 4th

Today is Wednesday, and that’s why I went to see the head of our department in his
office. I made sure I got there early and sat down to sharpen all the quills.

Our Director must be a very clever man: his study is full of shelves crammed with books.
I read some of their titles: such erudition, such scholarship! Quite above the head of any
ordinary civil servant. All in French or German. And you should look into his face, and see the
deep seriousness that gleams in his eyes! I have yet to hear him use one more word than is
necessary. He might perhaps ask as you handed him some papers: ‘What’s the weather like?’
And you would reply, ‘Damp today, Your Excellency.’ No, you can’t compare him with your
ordinary clerk. He’s a true statesman. May I say, however, that he has a special fondness for me.
If only his daughter… scum that I am! Never mind, better say nothing about that. I’ve been
reading the Little Bee.5 A crazy lot, those French! What do they want? My God, I’d like to give
them all a good flogging. There was a very good account of a ball written by a landowner from
Kursk.6 They certainly know how to write, those landowners from Kursk! At that moment I
noticed it was already past 12.30 and that our Director hadn’t left his bedroom. But about 1.30
something happened that no pen could adequately describe. The door opened. I thought it was
the Director and leapt up from my chair, clutching my papers: but it was her, herself in person!
Holy Fathers, how she was dressed! Her dress was white, like a swan. What magnificence! And
when she looked at me it was like the sun shining, I swear it! She nodded and said: ‘Has Papa
been here?’ Oh what a voice! A canary, just like a canary! I felt like saying to her: ‘Your
Excellency, don’t have me put to death, but if that is your wish, then let it be by your own noble
hand.’ But I was almost struck dumb, blast it, and all I could mumble was ‘No, Miss.’ She looked
at me, then at the books, and dropped her handkerchief. I threw myself at it, slipped on the
damned parquet floor and nearly broke my nose. I regained my balance however, and picked up
the handkerchief. Heavens, what a handkerchief! Such a fine lawn, and smelling just like pure
ambergris. You could tell from the smell it belonged to a general’s daughter. She thanked me,
and came so near to smiling that her sweet lips almost parted, and with that she left. I worked
on for about another hour until a footman suddenly appeared with the message: ‘You can go
home now, Aksenty Ivanovich, the master’s already left the house.’ I can’t stand that brood of
flunkeys: they’re always sprawled out in the hall and it’s as much as you can do to get one little
nod of acknowledgement from them. What’s more, one of those pigs once offered me some
snuff – without even getting up. Don’t you know, ignorant peasant, that I am a civil servant and
of noble birth? All the same, I picked up my hat, put my coat on myself – because those fine
gentlemen wouldn’t dream of helping you – and left the office. For a long time I lay on my bed at
home. Then I copied out some very fine poetry:

An hour without seeing you

Is like a whole year gone by
How wretched my life’s become
Without you I’ll only fret and sigh.

Must be something by Pushkin.7 In the evening I wrapped myself up in my overcoat and

went to Her Excellency’s house, and waited a long time outside the entrance just to see her get
into her carriage once more. But no, she didn’t come out.

November 6th

The head of the department was in a terrible mood. When I got to the office he called
me in and took this line with me: ‘Will you please tell me what your game is?’ ‘Why, nothing,’ I
answered. ‘Are you sure? Think hard! You’re past forty now, and it’s time you had a bit more
sense. Who do you think you are? Do you imagine I haven’t heard about your tricks? I know
you’ve been running after the Director’s daughter! Take a good look at yourself. What are you?
Just nothing, an absolute nobody. You haven’t a copeck to bless yourself with. Just take a look in
the mirror – fancy you having thoughts about the General’s daughter!’ To hell with it, his own
face puts you in mind of those large bottles you see in chemists’ windows, what with that tuft of
hair he puts in curlers. And the way he holds his head up and smothers his hair in pomade!
Thinks he can get away with anything! Now I can understand why he’s got it in for me: seeing
me get some preferential treatment in the office has made him jealous. I don’t care a hoot
about him! Just because he’s a court counsellor he thinks he’s Lord God Almighty! He lets his
gold watch chain dangle outside his waistcoat and pays thirty roubles for a pair of shoes. He can
go to hell! Does he think I’m the son of a commoner, or tailor, or a non-commissioned officer?
I’m a gentleman! I could get promotion if I wanted! I’m only forty-two, that’s an age nowadays
when one’s career is only just beginning. Just you wait, my friend, until I’m a colonel, or even
something higher, God willing. I’ll acquire more status than you. Where did you get the idea
you’re the only person whom we’re supposed to look up to around here? Just give me a coat
from Ruch’s,8 cut in the latest style; I’ll knot my tie like you do: and then you won’t be fit to
clean my boots. It’s only that I’m short of money.

November 8th

I went to the theatre today. The play was about the Russian fool, Filatka.9 I couldn’t stop
laughing. They also put on some sort of vaudeville with some amusing little satirical poems
about lawyers, and one collegiate registrar10 in particular. So near the knuckle, I wonder they got
past the censor. As for merchants, the author says straight out that they’re swindling everyone
and that their sons lead a dissolute life and have thoughts of becoming members of the
aristocracy. There was a very witty couplet about the critics, saying they do nothing but pull
everything to pieces, so the author asks for the audience’s protection. A lot of very amusing
plays are being written these days. I love going to the theatre. As long as I’ve a copeck in my
pocket you can’t stop me. But these civil servants of ours are such ignorant pigs, you’d never
catch those peasants going, even if you gave them a ticket for nothing. One of the actresses sang
very well. She reminded me of… ah! I’m a shocker!… Silence! The less said the better!

November 9th

At eight o’clock I set off for the office. The head of the department pretended he hadn’t
seen me come in. I played the same game, just as if we were complete strangers. Then I started
checking and sorting out some documents. At four o’clock I left. I passed the Director’s flat, but
there didn’t seem to be anybody in. After dinner I lay on my bed most of the evening.

November 11th

Today I sat in the Director’s office and sharpened twenty-three quills for him – and for
her. Ah, four quills for Her Excellency! He loves having a lot of pens around the place. Really, he
must have a very fine brain! He doesn’t say very much, but you can sense his mind is working
the whole time. I’d like to know what he thinks of most, what he’s hatching in that head of his.
And those people with all their puns and court jokes – I wish I knew more about them and what
goes on at that level of society.

Often I’ve thought of having a good talk with His Excellency, but somehow I’m always
stuck for words, damn it: I begin by saying it’s cold or warm outside, and that’s as far as I get. I’d
like to have a peep into the drawing-room but all I ever manage to see is another door which is
sometimes open, and leads off to another room. Ah, what luxury! The china and mirrors! I’d love
to see that part of the house where Her Excellency… yes that’s what I’d dearly love to see, her
boudoir, with all those jars and little phials, and such flowers, you daren’t even breathe on
them. To see her dress lying there, more like air than a dress. And just one peep in her bedroom
to see what wonders lie there, sheer paradise, more blissful than heaven. One glance at that
little stool where she puts her tiny foot when she steps out of bed. And then, over that tiny foot,
she starts pulling on her snowy white stocking. Ah, never mind, never mind, enough said…

Today something suddenly dawned on me which made everything clear: I recalled the
conversation I’d heard between the two dogs on Nevsky Prospekt. I thought to myself ‘Good,
now I’ll find out what it’s all about. Somehow I must get hold of the letters that passed between
those two filthy little dogs. There’s sure to be something there.’ To be frank, once I very nearly
called Medji and said: ‘Listen, Medji, we’re alone now. If you want I’ll shut the door so no one
can see. Tell me everything you know about the young lady, who she is and what she’s like. I
swear I won’t tell a soul.’

But that crafty dog put her tail between her legs, seemed to shrink to half her size, and
went quietly out through the door, as though she had heard nothing. I’d suspected for a long
time that dogs are cleverer than human beings. I was even convinced she could speak if she
wanted to, but didn’t, merely out of sheer cussedness. Dogs are extraordinarly shrewd, and
notice everything, every step you take. No, whatever happens, I shall go to the Zverkovs
tomorrow and cross-examine Fidèle, and with any luck I’ll get my hands on all the letters Medji
wrote to her.

November 12th

At two in the afternoon I set off with the firm intention of seeing Fidèle and cross-
examining her. I can’t stand the smell of cabbage; the shops along the Meshchanskaya just reek
of it.

What with this, and the infernal stench coming from under the front doors of all the
houses, I held my nose and ran for all I was worth.

If that’s not bad enough, those beastly tradesmen let so much soot and smoke pour out
of their workshops that it’s quite impossible for any respectable gentleman to take a stroll these
days.

When I reached the sixth floor and rang the bell, a quite pretty-looking girl with tiny
freckles came to the door. I recognized her as the same girl I’d seen walking with the old lady.
She blushed slightly and straight away I realized that the little dear needed a boyfriend. ‘What
do you want?’ she said. ‘I must have a talk with your dog,’ I replied. The girl was quite stupid – I
could see that at once. While I was standing there the dog came out barking at me. I tried to
catch hold of her but the nasty little bitch nearly sank her teeth into my nose. However, I
spotted her basket in the corner. That’s what I was after! I went over to it, rummaged around
under the straw and to my great delight pulled out a small bundle of papers. Seeing this, that
filthy dog first bit me on the thigh and then, when she’d sniffed around and discovered I’d taken
the papers, started whining and pawing me, but I said to her: ‘No, my dear, goodbye!’ and took
to my heels. The girl must have thought I was mad, as she seemed scared out of her wits.

When I arrived home, I intended starting work right away sorting the papers out,
because I can’t see all that well by candlelight. But Mavra decided the floor needed washing.
Those stupid Finns always take it into their heads to have a good clean up at the most
inconvenient times. So I decided to go for a walk and have a good think about what had
happened earlier. Now at last I would find out every little detail of what had been going on,
what was in their minds, who was mainly behind it – and finally I would get to the bottom of
everything: those letters would tell all. ‘Dogs are a clever lot,’ I told myself. ‘They’re well versed
in diplomacy, and therefore everything will be written down, including a description of the
Director and his private life. And there’ll be something about her, but never mind that now…
Silence!’ I returned home towards the evening and spent most of the time lying on my bed.

November 13th

Well now, let’s have a look: the letter is quite legible, though the handwriting looks a bit
doggy. Let’s see: ‘Dear Fidèle, I still can’t get used to your plebeian name. Couldn’t they find a
better one for you? Fidèle, like Rosa, is in very vulgar taste. However, all that’s neither here nor
there. I am very glad we decided to write to each other.’

The letter is impeccably written. The punctuation is correct and even the letter ‘ye’ is in
the right place. Even the head of our department can’t put a letter together so well, for all his
telling us that he went to some university or other. Let’s see what else there is: ‘I think that
sharing thoughts, feelings and experiences with another person is one of the greatest blessings
in this life.’ Hm! He must have found that in some translation from the German. The name
escapes me for the moment.

‘I am speaking from experience, though I’ve never ventured further than our front door.
Don’t you think I lead a very agreeable life? My mistress, whom Papa calls Sophie, is
passionately fond of me.’

Ah! Never mind! Silence!

‘Papa often likes to fondle and stroke me as well. I take cream with my tea and coffee.
Ah, ma chère! I really must tell you, I don’t get any pleasure out of those large half-gnawed
bones our Polkan likes guzzling in the kitchen. I only like bones from game-birds, and then only if
the marrow hasn’t already been sucked out by someone else. A mixture of several different
sauces can be very tasty, as long as you don’t put any capers or greens in. But in my opinion
there’s nothing worse than feeding dogs on little pellets of dough. There’s usually some
gentleman sitting at the table who starts kneading bread with hands that not long before have
been in contact with all sorts of filth. He’ll call you over and stick a pellet between your teeth.
It’s rather bad manners to refuse, and you have to eat it though it’s quite disgusting…’

What on earth does all that mean? Never read such rubbish! As if they didn’t have
anything better to write about! Let’s look at another page and see if we can find something with
a bit more sense in it.
 ‘I should be delighted to tell you about everything that goes on in our house. I’ve
already mentioned something about the head of the house, whom Sophie calls Papa. He’s a very
strange man.’

Ah, at last! Yes, I knew it all the time: their approach is very diplomatic. Let’s see what
they say about this Papa.

‘…a very strange man. Says nothing most of the time. He speaks very rarely; but a week
ago he kept on saying to himself: “Will I get it, will I get it?” Once he turned to me and asked,
“What do you think, Medji? Will I get it, or won’t I?” I couldn’t understand a word he was saying.
I sniffed his shoes and left the room. Then, ma chère, about a week later he came home
beaming all over. The whole morning men in uniforms kept arriving to congratulate him on
something or other. During dinner Papa was gayer than ever I’d seen him before, telling
anecdotes, and afterwards lifting me up to his shoulders and saying: “Look, Medji, what’s that?”
It was some sort of ribbon. I sniffed at it, but it didn’t have any sort of smell at all. Then I gave it
a furtive lick, and it tasted rather salty.’

Hm! That dog, in my opinion, is going too far… She’ll be lucky if she doesn’t get a
whipping! Ah, he’s so ambitious! Must make a note of that.

‘Goodbye, ma chère. I’m in a tearing hurry, etc. etc… I’ll finish the letter tomorrow. Well,
hullo, here I am again. Today my mistress Sophie…’

Aha! Let’s see what she says about Sophie. Ah, you devil! Never mind, never mind…
Let’s get on with it.

‘…my mistress Sophie was in such a tizzy. She was getting dressed for a ball, and I was
delighted to have the chance of writing to you while she was gone. My Sophie is always thrilled
to go to a ball, although getting dressed usually puts her in a bad temper. I really can’t
understand, ma chère, what pleasure there is in going to these balls. Sophie comes home about
six in the morning, and I can always tell from the poor dear’s pale, thin look that she’s had
nothing to eat. I must confess that would be no life for me. If I didn’t have woodcock done in
sauce or roast chicken wings I don’t know what would become of me… Sauce goes very well
with gruel. But you can’t do anything with carrots or turnips, or artichokes…’

The style is amazingly jerky. You can see at once that it’s not written by a human being.
It starts off all right, and then lapses into dogginess… Let’s have a look at another letter. Seems
rather long. Hm, there’s no date either!

‘Ah, my dear, how deeply I feel the approach of spring! My heart is beating as though it
were waiting for something. There’s a perpetual noise in my ears, and I often raise a paw and
stand listening at the door for several minutes. In confidence, I must tell you I have a great many
suitors. I often sit watching them out of the window. Ah, if you only knew how ugly some of
them are! There’s one very coarse mongrel, so stupid you can see it written all over his face, and
he swaggers down the street thinking he’s someone very important and that everyone else
thinks the same. But he’s wrong. I ignored him completely, just as if I’d never set eyes on him.
And that terrifying Great Dane that keeps stopping by my window! If he stood on his hind legs
(the coarse clodhopper’s not even capable of that) he’d be a whole head taller than Sophie’s
Papa – and as you know, he’s tall enough – and plump into the bargain. The great lump has the
cheek of the devil. I growled at him, but a fat lot he cared. If only he frowned! But he stuck his
tongue out, dangled his enormous ears and kept staring straight at the window – the peasant!
But don’t imagine, ma chère, that my heart is indifferent to all these suitors, ah, no… If you’d
seen one gallant called Trésor, who climbed over the fence from next door. Ah my dear, you
should see his little muzzle!’

Ugh, to hell with it! What trash! Fancy filling a letter with such nonsense! I need people,
not dogs! I want to see a human being; I ask for spiritual nourishment to feed and delight my
soul, but all I end up with is that rubbish! Let’s skip a page and see if there’s something better.

‘Sophie was sitting at a small table and sewing. I was looking out of the window as I love
to see who’s going by. All of a sudden a footman came into the room and said: “Teplov.” “Ask
him in,” cried Sophie and threw her arms around me. “Ah, Medji, Medji, if you could only see
him: a Guards Officer with brown hair, and his eyes – what eyes – black, and shining bright as
fire!”

‘Sophie ran up to her room. A minute later in came a young gentleman with black
whiskers. He went up to the mirror, smoothed his hair and looked round the room. I snarled and
settled down by the window. Soon Sophie appeared and gaily curtseyed as he clicked his heels. I
kept looking out of the window just as if they weren’t there, but I tried to catch what they were
saying by cocking my head to one side. Ah, ma chère! What rubbish they talked! About a certain
lady who danced the wrong step at a ball, and someone called Bobov who looked just like a
stork in his jabot, and who nearly fell over. And there was someone called Lidina who thought
she had blue eyes, whereas they were really green, and so on. How can one compare, I asked
myself, this gentleman of the court with Trésor? Good heavens, they’re whole worlds apart!
First of all, the young gentleman’s face is wide and very smooth and has whiskers growing all
round it, just as if someone had bound it up with a black handkerchief. But Trésor’s muzzle is
very thin, and he has a white spot on his forehead. And you can’t compare their figures. And
Trésor’s eyes, his bearing, aren’t the same at all. What a difference! I really don’t know what she
can see in this Teplov. Why is she so crazy about him?’

It strikes me something’s not quite right here. How can a young court chamberlain
sweep her off her feet like that? Let’s have a look:

‘I think that if she can care for that court chamberlain then she can easily feel the same
for the civil servant who has a desk in Papa’s study. Ah, ma chère, if only you knew how ugly he
is! Just like a tortoise in a sack.’

What is this civil servant like?

‘He has a very peculiar name. All the time he sits sharpening quills. His hair looks just
like hay. Papa always sends him on errands instead of one of the servants.’

I think that nasty little dog is referring to me. Who says my hair is like hay?

‘Sophie can’t stop laughing when she looks at him.’

 You damned dog, you’re lying! You’ve got a wicked tongue! As if I didn’t know you’re
jealous! And who’s responsible for this? Why, the head of the department! That man has vowed
undying hatred for me and does me harm whenever he has the chance. Let’s see though: there’s
one more letter. Perhaps the explanation’s there:

‘Ma chère Fidèle, please forgive me for being so long writing to you. I have been in
raptures. The author who said love is a second life was absolutely right. Great changes have
been taking place in our house. The gentleman of the court comes every day now. Sophie is
madly in love with him. Papa is in very high spirits. I even heard from Grigory (one of our
servants who sweeps the floor and seems to be talking to himself all the time) that the
wedding’s going to be very soon. Papa is set on marrying off Sophie either to a general, or a
court chamberlain, or a colonel…’

Damnation! I can’t read any more… It’s always noblemen or generals. All the good
things in this world go to gentlemen of the court or generals. People like me scrape up a few
crumbs of happiness and just as you’re about to reach out to grasp them, along comes a
nobleman or a general to snatch them away. Hell! I’d like to be a general, not just to win her,
and all the rest of it, but to see them crawling around after me, with all their puns and high and
mighty jokes from the court. Then I could tell them all to go to hell. Damn it! It’s enough to make
you weep. I tore that stupid little dog’s letter into little bits.

December 3rd

It’s impossible! What twaddle! There just can’t be a wedding. And what if he is a
gentleman of the court? It’s only a kind of distinction conferred on you, not something that you
can see, or touch with your hands. A court chamberlain doesn’t have a third eye in the middle of
his forehead, and his nose isn’t made of gold either. It’s just like mine or anyone else’s: he uses
it to sniff or sneeze with, but not for eating or coughing. Several times I’ve tried to discover the
reason for these differences. Why am I just a titular counsellor?11 Perhaps I’m really a count or a
general and am merely imagining I’m a titular counsellor? Perhaps I don’t really know who I am
at all? History has lots of examples of that sort of thing: there was some fairly ordinary man, not
what you’d call a nobleman, but simply a tradesman or even a serf, and suddenly he discovered
he was a great lord or a sovereign. So if a peasant can turn into someone like that, what would a
nobleman become? Say, for example, I suddenly appeared in a general’s uniform, with an
epaulette on my left shoulder and a blue sash across my chest – what then? What tune would
my beautiful young lady sing then? And what would Papa, our Director, say? Oh, he’s so
ambitious! But I noticed at once he’s a mason,12 no doubt about that, although he pretends to
be this, that and the other; he only puts out two fingers to shake hands with. But surely, can’t I
be promoted to Governor General or Commissary or something or other this very minute? And I
should like to know why I’m a titular councillor? Why precisely a titular counsellor?

December 5th

I spent the whole morning reading the papers. Strange things are happening in Spain. I
read that the throne has been left vacant and that the nobility are having a great deal of trouble
choosing an heir, with the result that there’s a lot of civil commotion.13 This strikes me as very
strange. How can a throne be vacated? They’re saying some ‘donna’14 must succeed to the
throne. But she can’t succeed to the throne: that’s impossible. A king must inherit the throne.
And they say there’s no king anyway. But there must be a king. There can’t be a government
without one. There’s a king all right, but he’s hiding in some obscure place. He must be
somewhere, but family reasons, or fears on the part of neighbouring powers – France and other
countries, for example – force him to stay in hiding. Or there may be another explanation.

December 8th

I was about to go to the office but various reasons and considerations held me back. I
couldn’t get that Spanish business out of my head. How could a woman inherit the throne? They
wouldn’t allow it. Firstly, England wouldn’t stand for it. And what’s more, it would affect the
whole of European policy: the Austrian Emperor, our Tsar… I must confess, these events shook
me up so much I couldn’t put my mind to anything all day. Mavra pointed out that I was very
absent-minded during supper. And, in fact, in a fit of distraction I threw two plates on to the
floor, and they broke immediately. After dinner I walked along a street that led downhill.
Discovered nothing very edifying. Afterwards I lay on my bed for a long time and pondered the
Spanish question.

April 43rd, 2000

Today is a day of great triumph. There is a king of Spain. He has been found at last. That
king is me. I only discovered this today. Frankly, it all came to me in a flash. I cannot understand
how I could even think or imagine for one moment I was only a titular counsellor. I can’t explain
how such a ridiculous idea ever entered my head. Anyway, I’m rather pleased no one thought of
having me put away yet. The path ahead is clear: everything is as bright as daylight.

I don’t really understand why, but before this revelation everything was enveloped in a
kind of mist. And the whole reason for this, as I see it, is that people are under the
misapprehension that the human brain is situated in the head: nothing could be further from
the truth. It is carried by the wind from the Caspian Sea.

The first thing I did was to tell Mavra who I was. When she heard that the King of Spain
was standing before her, she wrung her hands and nearly died of fright. The stupid woman had
obviously never set eyes on the King of Spain before. However, I managed to calm her and with
a few kind words tried to convince her that the new sovereign was well-disposed towards her
and that I wasn’t at all annoyed because she sometimes made a mess of my shoes.

But what can you expect from the common herd? You just can’t converse with them
about the higher things in life. Mavra was frightened because she was sure all kings of Spain
looked like Philip II.15 But I explained that there was no resemblance between me and Philip and
that I didn’t have a single Capuchin friar under my sway… Didn’t go to the office today. To hell
with it! No, my friends, you won’t tempt me now. I’ve had enough of copying out your filthy
documents!

86th Martober, between day and night

 One of the administrative clerks called today, saying it was time I went to the office and
that I hadn’t been for three weeks. So I went – just for a joke. The head clerk thought I would
bow to him and start apologizing, but I gave him a cool look, not too hostile, but not too friendly
either. I sat down at my desk as though no one else existed. As I looked at all that clerical scum I
thought: ‘If only you knew who’s sitting in the same office with you… God, what a fuss you’d
make! Even the head clerk himself would start bowing and scraping, just as he does when the
Director’s there.’ They put some papers in front of me, from which I was supposed to make an
abstract. But I didn’t so much as lift a finger. A few minutes later everyone was rushing around
like mad. They said the Director was coming. Many of the clerks jostled each other as they tried
to be first to bow to him as he came in. But I didn’t budge. Everyone buttoned up his jacket as
the Director walked across the office, but I didn’t make a move. Stand up when he comes in –
never! So what if he’s a departmental director. He’s really a cork, not a director. And an ordinary
cork at that – a common or garden cork, and nothing else, the kind used for stopping bottles.
What tickled me more than anything else was when they shoved a paper in front of me to sign.
Of course, they were thinking I would sign myself as: Clerk No. So-and-so, right at the very
bottom of the page. Well, let them think again! In the most important place, just where the
Director puts his signature, I wrote ‘Ferdinand VIII’. The awed silence that descended on
everyone was amazing; but I merely waved my hand and said: ‘There’s really no need for this
show of loyalty,’ and I walked out.

I went straight to the Director’s flat. He wasn’t at home. The footman wouldn’t let me in
at first, but what I said to him made his arms drop limply to his side. I made my way straight to
her boudoir. She was sitting in front of the mirror and she jumped up and stepped backwards. I
didn’t tell her, however, that I was the King of Spain. All I said was that happiness such as she
had never imagined awaited her, and that we would be together, in spite of hostile plots against
us. Then I thought I’d said enough and left. But how crafty women can be! Only then did it dawn
on me what they are really like. So far, no one has ever discovered whom women are in love
with. I was the first to solve this mystery: they are in love with the devil. And I’m not joking.
While physicians write a lot of nonsense, saying they are this and that, the truth is, women are
in love with the devil, and no one else. Can you see that woman raising her lorgnette in the first
tier of a theatre box? Do you think she’s looking at that fat man with a medal? Far from it – she’s
looking at the devil standing behind his back. Now he’s over there, hiding in his frock-coat and
beckoning her with his finger! She’ll marry him, that’s for certain. And all those senior civil
servants who curry favour everywhere they go, who aspire to be courtiers, insisting they are
patriots, when all they want is money from rents!16 They’d sell their own mother, or father, or
God for money, the crawlers, the Judases! And all this ambition is caused by a little bubble
under the tongue which contains a tiny worm about the size of a pinhead, and it’s all the work of
some barber living in Gorokhovaya Street. I can’t remember his name for the moment but one
thing I’m sure of is that with the help of an old midwife he wants to spread Mahommedanism
throughout the world. And I’ve already heard tell that most of the people in France are now
practising the faith.

No date. The day didn’t have one

 I walked incognito down Nevsky Prospekt. His Imperial Majesty drove past. Every single
person doffed his hat, and I followed suit. However, I didn’t give any indication that I was the
King of Spain. I considered it improper to reveal my true identity right there in the middle of the
crowd, because, according to etiquette, I ought first to be presented at court. So far, the only
thing that had stopped me was not having any royal clothes. If only I could get hold of a cloak. I
would have gone to a tailor, but they’re such asses. What’s more they tend to neglect their
work, preferring to take part in shady transactions, and most of them end up mending the
roads. I decided to have a mantle made out of my new uniform, which I’d worn only twice. I
decided to make it myself, so that those crooks shouldn’t ruin it, and shut myself in my room so
that nobody would see. I had to cut it all up with a pair of scissors, because the style’s
completely different.

I don’t remember the date. There wasn’t any month either. Damned if I know what it
was

The cloak is ready now. Mavra screamed when I put it on. But I still can’t make up my
mind whether to present myself at court. So far no deputation’s arrived from Spain and it would
be contrary to etiquette to go on my own. It would detract from my dignity. Anyway I’m
expecting them any minute now.

The first

I’m really astonished the deputation’s so slow in coming. Whatever can have held them
up? Could it be France? Yes, she’s extremely hostile at the moment. I went to the post office to
see if there was any news about the Spanish deputation. But the postmaster was extremely
stupid and knew nothing about it. ‘No,’ he said, ‘no Spanish deputation has arrived but if you
care to send a letter, it will be despatched in the normal manner.’

To hell with it! Letters are trash. Only chemists write letters.

Madrid, 30th Februarius

So I’m in Spain now, and it was all so quick I hardly knew what was happening. This
morning the Spanish deputation arrived and I got into a carriage with them. We drove very fast,
and this struck me as most peculiar. In fact we went at such a cracking pace we were at the
Spanish frontier within half an hour. But then, there are railways all over Europe now, and ships
can move extremely fast. A strange country, Spain: in the first room I entered there were a lot of
people with shaven heads. However, I guessed that these must either be grandees or soldiers,
as they’re in the habit of shaving their heads over there. But the way one of the government
chancellors treated me was strange in the extreme. He took me by the arm and pushed me into
a small room, saying: ‘Sit there, and if you call yourself King Ferdinand once more, I’ll thrash that
nonsense out of you.’ But as I knew that this was just some sort of test I refused, for which the
chancellor struck me twice on the back, so painfully that I nearly cried out. But I controlled
myself, as I knew that this was the normal procedure with Spanish knights before initiating
someone into a very high rank and that even now the code of chivalry is still maintained over
there. Left on my own I decided to get down to government business. I have discovered that
China and Spain are really one and the same country, and it’s only ignorance that leads people
to think that they’re two different nations. If you don’t believe me, then try and write ‘Spain’
and you’ll end up writing ‘China’. Apart from all this, I’m very annoyed by a strange event that’s
due to take place at seven o’clock tomorrow: the earth is going to land on the moon.17 An
account of this has been written by the celebrated English chemist Wellington.

I confess I felt deeply troubled when I considered how unusually delicate and
insubstantial the moon is. The moon, as everyone knows, is usually made in Hamburg, and they
make a complete hash of it. I’m surprised that the English don’t do something about it. The
moon is manufactured by a lame cooper, and it’s obvious the idiot has no idea what it should be
made of. The materials he uses are tarred rope and linseed oil. That’s why there’s such a terrible
stink all over the earth, which makes us stop our noses up. And it also explains why the moon is
such a delicate sphere, and why people can’t live there – only noses. For this reason we can’t
see our own noses any more, as they’re all on the moon. When I reflected how heavy the earth
is and that our noses might be ground into the surface when it landed, I was so worried I put my
socks and shoes on and hurried into the state council room to instruct the police not to let the
earth land on the moon. The grandees with their shaven heads – the council chamber was
chock-full of them – were a very clever lot, and as soon as I told them: ‘Gentlemen, let us save
the moon because the earth intends landing there,’ everyone fell over himself to carry out my
royal wish. Many of them climbed up the walls to reach the moon. But just at this moment in
came the mighty chancellor. Everyone fled when they saw him. Being the king, I stayed where I
was. But to my astonishment the chancellor hit me with his stick and drove me back into my
room. That shows you how strong tradition is in Spain!

January in the same year falling after February

Up to this time Spain had been somewhat of a mystery to me. Their native customs and
court etiquette are really most peculiar. I don’t understand, I really do not understand them.
Today they shaved my head even though I shrieked as loud as I could that I didn’t want to be a
monk. And I have only a faint memory of what happened when they poured cold water over my
head. Never before had I gone through such hell. I was in such a frenzy they had difficulty in
holding me down. What these strange customs mean is beyond me. So foolish, idiotic! And the
utter stupidity of their kings who have still not abolished this tradition really defeats me. After
everything that’s happened to me, I think I’m safe in hazarding a guess that I’ve fallen into the
hands of the Inquisition, and the person I thought was a minister of state was really the Grand
Inquisitor himself. But I still don’t understand how kings can be subjected to the Inquisition. It
could of course be France that’s putting them up to it, and I mean Polignac18 in particular. What
a swine he is! He’s sworn to have me done away with. The whole time he’s persecuting me; but I
know very well, my friend, that you’re led by the English. The English are acute politicians and
worm their way into everything. The whole world knows that when England takes snuff, France
sneezes.

The 25th

Today the Grand Inquisitor came into the room, but as soon as I heard his footsteps I hid
under the table. When he saw I wasn’t there, he started calling out. First he shouted: ‘Poprish-
chin!’ – I didn’t say a word. Then: ‘Aksenty Ivanov! Titular Counsellor! Nobleman!’ – still I didn’t
reply. ‘Ferdinand the Eighth, King of Spain!’ I was in half a mind to stick my head out, but
thought better of it. ‘No, my friend, you can’t fool me! I know only too well you’re going to pour
cold water over my head.’ He spotted me all the same and drove me out from under the table
with his stick. The damned thing is terribly painful. But my next discovery that every cock has its
Spain, tucked away under its feathers, made up for all these torments. The Grand Inquisitor left
in a very bad mood however and threatened me with some sort of punishment. But I didn’t care
a rap about his helpless rage, as I knew full well he was functioning like a machine, a mere tool
of the English.

Da 34 te Mth eary 349

No, I haven’t the strength to endure it any longer! Good God, what are they doing to
me? They’re pouring cold water over my head! They don’t heed me, see me or listen to me.
What have I done to them? Why do they torture me so? What can they want from a miserable
wretch like me? What can I offer them when I’ve nothing of my own? I can’t stand this torture
any more. My head is burning and everything is spinning round and round. Save me! Take me
away! Give me a troika with horses swift as the whirlwind! Climb up, driver, and let the bells
ring! Soar away, horses, and carry me from this world! Further, further, where nothing can be
seen, nothing at all! Over there the sky whirls round. A little star shines in the distance; the
forest rushes past with its dark trees and the moon shines above. A deep blue haze is spreading
like a carpet; a guitar string twangs in the mist. On one side is the sea, on the other is Italy. And
over there I can see Russian peasant huts. Is that my house looking dimly blue in the distance?
And is that my mother sitting at the window? Mother, save your poor son! Shed a tear on his
aching head! See how they’re torturing him! Press a wretched orphan to your breast! There’s no
place for him in this world! They’re persecuting him! Mother, have pity on your poor little child…

And did you know that the Dhey of Algiers19 has a lump right under his nose?