Part 1 Chapter 15
THE EARLY MASS.
For Nekhludoff this early mass remained for ever after one of the brightest and most vivid memories of his life. When he rode out of the darkness, broken only here and there by patches of white snow, into the churchyard illuminated by a row of lamps around the church, the service had already begun.
The peasants, recognising Mary Ivanovna's nephew, led his horse, which was pricking up its cars at the sight of the lights, to a dry place where he could get off, put it up for him, and showed him into the church, which was full of people. On the right stood the peasants; the old men in home-spun coats, and clean white linen bands wrapped round their legs, the young men in new cloth coats, bright-coloured belts round their waists, and top-boots.
On the left stood the women, with red silk kerchiefs on their heads, black velveteen sleeveless jackets, bright red shirt-sleeves, gay-coloured green, blue, and red skirts, and thick leather boots. The old women, dressed more quietly, stood behind them, with white kerchiefs, homespun coats, old-fashioned skirts of dark home-spun material, and shoes on their feet. Gaily-dressed children, their hair well oiled, went in and out among them.
The men, making the sign of the cross, bowed down and raised their heads again, shaking back their hair.
The women, especially the old ones, fixed their eyes on an icon surrounded with candies and made the sign of the cross, firmly pressing their folded fingers to the kerchief on their foreheads, to their shoulders, and their stomachs, and, whispering something, stooped or knelt down. The children, imitating the grown-up people, prayed earnestly when they knew that they were being observed. The gilt case containing the icon glittered, illuminated on all sides by tall candles ornamented with golden spirals. The candelabra was filled with tapers, and from the choir sounded most merry tunes sung by amateur choristers, with bellowing bass and shrill boys' voices among them.
Nekhludoff passed up to the front. In the middle of the church stood the aristocracy of the place: a landed proprietor, with his wife and son (the latter dressed in a sailor's suit), the police officer, the telegraph clerk, a tradesman in top-boots, and the village elder, with a medal on his breast; and to the right of the ambo, just behind the landed proprietor's wife, stood Matrona Pavlovna in a lilac dress and fringed shawl and Katusha in a white dress with a tucked bodice, blue sash, and red bow in her black hair.
Everything seemed festive, solemn, bright, and beautiful: the priest in his silver cloth vestments with gold crosses; the deacon, the clerk and chanter in their silver and gold surplices; the amateur choristers in their best clothes, with their well-oiled hair; the merry tunes of the holiday hymns that sounded like dance music; and the continual blessing of the people by the priests, who held candles decorated with flowers, and repeated the cry of "Christ is risen!" "Christ is risen!" All was beautiful; but, above all, Katusha, in her white dress, blue sash, and the red bow on her black head, her eyes beaming with rapture.
Nekhludoff knew that she felt his presence without looking at him. He noticed this as he passed her, walking up to the altar. He had nothing to tell her, but he invented something to say and whispered as he passed her: "Aunt told me that she would break her fast after the late mass." The young blood rushed up to Katusha's sweet face, as it always did when she looked at him. The black eyes, laughing and full of joy, gazed naively up and remained fixed on Nekhludoff.
"I know," she said, with a smile.
At this moment the clerk was going out with a copper coffee-pot of holy water in his hand, and, not noticing Katusha, brushed her with his surplice. Evidently he brushed against Katusha through wishing to pass Nekhludoff at a respectful distance, and Nekhludoff was surprised that he, the clerk, did not understand that everything here, yes, and in all the world, only existed for Katusha, and that everything else might remain unheeded, only not she, because she was the centre of all. For her the gold glittered round the icons; for her all these candles in candelabra and candlesticks were alight; for her were sung these joyful hymns, "Behold the Passover of the Lord" "Rejoice, O ye people!" All--all that was good in the world was for her. And it seemed to him that Katusha was aware that it was all for her when he looked at her well-shaped figure, the tucked white dress, the wrapt, joyous expression of her face, by which he knew that just exactly the same that was singing in his own soul was also singing in hers.
In the interval between the early and the late mass Nekhludoff left the church. The people stood aside to let him pass, and bowed. Some knew him; others asked who he was.
He stopped on the steps. The beggars standing there came clamouring round him, and he gave them all the change he had in his purse and went down. It was dawning, but the sun had not yet risen. The people grouped round the graves in the churchyard. Katusha had remained inside. Nekhludoff stood waiting for her.
The people continued coming out, clattering with their nailed boots on the stone steps and dispersing over the churchyard. A very old man with shaking head, his aunts' cook, stopped Nekhludoff in order to give him the Easter kiss, his old wife took an egg, dyed yellow, out of her handkerchief and gave it to Nekhludoff, and a smiling young peasant in a new coat and green belt also came up.
"Christ is risen," he said, with laughing eyes, and coming close to Nekhludoff he enveloped him in his peculiar but pleasant peasant smell, and, tickling him with his curly beard, kissed him three times straight on the mouth with his firm, fresh lips.
While the peasant was kissing Nekhludoff and giving him a dark brown egg, the lilac dress of Matrona Pavlovna and the dear black head with the red bow appeared.
Katusha caught sight of him over the heads of those in front of her, and he saw how her face brightened up.
She had come out with Matrona Pavlovna on to the porch, and stopped there distributing alms to the beggars. A beggar with a red scab in place of a nose came up to Katusha. She gave him something, drew nearer him, and, evincing no sign of disgust, but her eyes still shining with joy, kissed him three times. And while she was doing this her eyes met Nekhludoff's with a look as if she were asking, "Is this that I am doing right?" "Yes, dear, yes, it is right; everything is right, everything is beautiful. I love!"
They came down the steps of the porch, and he came up to them.
He did not mean to give them the Easter kiss, but only to be nearer to her. Matrona Pavlovna bowed her head, and said with a smile, "Christ is risen!" and her tone implied, "To-day we are all equal." She wiped her mouth with her handkerchief rolled into a ball and stretched her lips towards him.
"He is, indeed," answered Nekhludoff, kissing her. Then he looked at Katusha; she blushed, and drew nearer. "Christ is risen, Dmitri Ivanovitch." "He is risen, indeed," answered Nekhludoff, and they kissed twice, then paused as if considering whether a third kiss were necessary, and, having decided that it was, kissed a third time and smiled.
"You are going to the priests?" asked Nekhludoff.
"No, we shall sit out here a bit, Dmitri Ivanovitch," said Katusha with effort, as if she had accomplished some joyous task, and, her whole chest heaving with a deep sigh, she looked straight in his face with a look of devotion, virgin purity, and love, in her very slightly squinting eyes.
In the love between a man and a woman there always comes a moment when this love has reached its zenith--a moment when it is unconscious, unreasoning, and with nothing sensual about it. Such a moment had come for Nekhludoff on that Easter eve. When he brought Katusha back to his mind, now, this moment veiled all else; the smooth glossy black head, the white tucked dress closely fitting her graceful maidenly form, her, as yet, un-developed bosom, the blushing cheeks, the tender shining black eyes with their slight squint heightened by the sleepless night, and her whole being stamped with those two marked features, purity and chaste love, love not only for him (he knew that), but for everybody and everything, not for the good alone, but for all that is in the world, even for that beggar whom she had kissed.
He knew she had that love in her because on that night and morning he was conscious of it in himself, and conscious that in this love he became one with her. Ah! if it had all stopped there, at the point it had reached that night. "Yes, all that horrible business had not yet happened on that Easter eve!" he thought, as he sat by the window of the jurymen's room.
通过稀稀落落散布着几堆白雪的漆黑道路，他骑马蹚着水，来到教堂前的院子里。他的马看见教堂周围的点点灯火，竖一起耳朵。这时候，礼拜已开始了。
有几个农民认出他是玛丽雅小一姐的侄儿，就领他到干燥的地方下马，牵过马来挂好，然后把他带到教堂里。教堂里已挤满了过节的人。
右边都是庄稼汉：老头子身穿土布长袍，脚包白净的包脚布，外套树皮鞋；小伙子身穿崭新的呢长袍，腰束色彩鲜艳的阔腰带，脚登高统皮靴。左边都是女人，她们头上包着红绸巾，身穿棉绒紧身袄，配着大红衣袖，系着蓝色、绿色、红色或者花色的裙子，脚上穿着钉上铁钉的半统靴。老年妇女衣着朴素，站在后面，她们包着白头巾，身穿灰短袄，系着老式一毛一织裙子，脚穿平底鞋或者崭新的树皮鞋。人群中还夹杂着孩子，他们打扮得漂漂亮亮，头发抹得油光光。农民们画十字，甩动头发鞠躬。妇女们，特别是那些上了年纪的，用她们褪了色的眼睛盯着蜡烛和圣像，用并拢的手指紧紧地按按额上的头巾、双肩和腹部，嘴里念念有词，弯腰站着或者跪下。孩子们看见有人在瞧着他们，就学大人的样，一个劲儿地做祷告。镀金的圣像壁，被周围饰金大蜡烛和小蜡烛照得金光闪闪。枝形大烛台上插满了蜡烛，光辉灿烂。从唱诗班那里传来业余歌手欢乐的歌声，其中夹杂着嘶哑的男低音和尖细的童声。
聂赫留朵夫向前走去。教堂中央站着上层人物：一个地主带着妻子和穿水兵服的儿子，警察分局局长，电报员，穿高统皮靴的商人，佩戴奖章的乡长。在读经台右边，地主太太后面站着玛特廖娜。玛特廖娜身穿闪光的紫色连衣裙，披着有流苏的白色大围巾。卡秋莎站在她旁边，身穿一件胸前有皱褶的雪白连衣裙，腰里系着一根浅蓝带子，乌黑的头发上扎着一个鲜红的蝴蝶结。
整个教堂里都洋溢着喜悦、庄严、欢乐和美好的气氛。司祭们穿着银光闪闪的法衣，挂着金十字架。助祭和诵经士穿着有金银丝绦装饰的祭服。业余歌手们也都穿着节日的盛装，头发擦得油光闪亮。节日的赞美诗听上去象欢乐的舞曲。司祭们高举插有三支蜡烛、饰有花卉的烛台，不停地为人们祝福，嘴里反复欢呼：“基督复一活了！基督复一活了！”一切都很美丽，但最美丽的却是那穿着雪白连衣裙、系着浅蓝腰带、乌黑的头发上扎着鲜红蝴蝶结、眼睛闪耀着快乐光芒的卡秋莎。
聂赫留朵夫发觉她虽然没有回过头来，却看见了他。他是在走向祭坛，经过她身边时注意到的。他对她本没有什么话要说，但就在经过她身边时想出了一句：
“姑一妈一说，做完晚弥撒她就开斋。”
就象每次见到他那样，她那可一爱一的脸蛋上泛起了青春的红晕，乌黑的眼睛闪耀着笑意和欢乐，她天真烂漫地从脚到头瞅着聂赫留朵夫。
“我知道，”她笑眯眯地说。
这当儿，一个诵经士手里拿着一把铜咖啡壶，穿过人群，在经过卡秋莎身边时没有留神，他的祭服下摆触到了卡秋莎。那诵经士显然是由于尊敬聂赫留朵夫，有意从他旁边绕过去，结果却触到了卡秋莎。聂赫留朵夫心里奇怪，那个诵经士怎么会不明白，这里的一切，连全世界的一切，都是为卡秋莎一人而存在的，他可以忽视世间万物，但不能怠慢卡秋莎，因为她就是世界的中心。为了她，圣像壁才金光闪闪，烛台上的蜡烛才欢乐地燃一烧；为了她，人们才高歌欢唱，“耶稣复一活了，人们啊，欢乐吧！”世上一切美好的东西都是为她，为她一人而存在的。他认为卡秋莎也懂得，一切都是为了她。聂赫留朵夫注视着她那穿带皱褶雪白连衣裙的苗条身材，注视着她那张聚一精一会神的喜气洋洋的脸，心里有这样的感觉。他还从她脸部的表情上看出，她心里所唱的和他心里所唱的是同一首歌。
聂赫留朵夫在早弥撒和晚弥撒之间那个时刻走出教堂。人们纷纷给他让路，向他鞠躬。有人认识他，有人却问：“他是谁家的？”他在教堂门前的台阶上停住脚步。乞丐们把他一团一团一围住。他把钱包里的零钱都分给他们，这才走下台阶。
天已经亮了，四下里一切都看得清楚，但太一陽一还没有升起。人们分散在教堂周围的墓地上。卡秋莎留在教堂里。聂赫留朵夫站在门口等她。
人们陆续从教堂里出来，他们靴底的钉子在石板地上敲得叮叮作响。他们走下台阶，分散到教堂前面的院子里和墓地上。
玛丽雅姑一妈一家的糕点师傅，老态龙钟，脑袋不断颤一动，拦住聂赫留朵夫，同他互吻了三次。糕点师傅的老伴头上包着一块丝绸三角巾，头巾下面有一个皮肤打皱的小肉一团一。她从手绢里取出一个黄澄澄的复一活节蛋，送给聂赫留朵夫。这当儿，一个体格强壮的青年庄稼汉，身穿一件崭新的紧身外套，腰里束着一条绿色宽腰带，笑嘻嘻地走过来。
“基督复一活了！”他眼睛里含一着笑意说。他向聂赫留朵夫凑过脸来，使他闻到一股庄稼汉身上所特有的好闻气味，他那鬈曲的大一胡一子扎得聂赫留朵夫脸上发一痒，接着就用他那宽厚的滋润的嘴唇对住聂赫留朵夫的嘴唇吻了三次。
就在聂赫留朵夫跟那个庄稼汉亲一吻，接受他所送的深棕色复一活节蛋时，出现了玛特廖娜的闪光连衣裙和那个戴着鲜红蝴蝶结的可一爱一的乌黑脑袋。
她隔着前面过路人的头看见了他，他也看到她容光焕发的脸。
她跟玛特廖娜一起走到教堂门口的台阶上站住，散钱给乞丐。一个鼻子烂得只剩块红疤的乞丐走到卡秋莎跟前。她从手绢里取出一样东西送给他，然后向他凑拢去，丝毫没有嫌恶的样子，眼睛里依旧闪耀着快乐的光辉，同他互吻了三次。正当她同乞丐接一吻的时候，她的目光同聂赫留朵夫的目光相遇了。她仿佛在问：她这样做好吗？做得对吗？“对，对，宝贝，一切都很好，一切都很美，我喜欢这样，”
他的眼神这样回答。
她们走下台阶，他就走到她跟前。他不想按复一活节的规矩同她互吻，只想同她挨得近一点。
“基督复一活了！”①玛特廖娜说。她低下头，微笑着，那口气仿佛在说：今天大家平等。接着她把手绢一揉一成一一团一，擦擦嘴，把嘴唇向他凑过去。
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①按基督教规矩，复一活节人们见面都要说：“基督复一活了！”对方必须回答：“真的复一活了！”
他回头看了卡秋莎一眼。她飞红了脸，同时向他挨过来。
“基督复一活了，德米特里·伊凡内奇！”
“真的复一活了！”他说。他们互吻了两次，仿佛迟疑了一下，还要不要再吻一次。终于决定再吻一次，他们就吻了第三遍。接着两人都笑了笑。
“不，德米特里·伊凡内奇，我们要在这里坐一会儿，”卡秋莎说，仿佛在愉快的劳动以后用整个胸部深深地呼吸着，同时用她那双一温一柔、纯洁、热烈而略带斜睨的眼睛盯住他的眼睛。
男一女之间的一爱一情总有达到顶点的时刻，在那样的时刻既没有自觉和理一性一的成分，也没有肉一欲的成分。这个基督复一活节的夜晚，对聂赫留朵夫来说就是这样的时刻。如今他每次回想到卡秋莎，这个夜晚的情景总是盖过了他看见她的其余各种情景。那个头发乌黑光滑的小脑袋，那件束住她处一女的苗条身材和不高胸部的有皱褶的雪白连衣裙，那个泛起红晕的脸蛋，那双由于不眠而略带斜睨的乌黑发亮的眼睛，再有她全身焕发出来的特点：她那纯洁无瑕的少女的一爱一，不仅对着他——这一点他知道，——而且对着世上一切人，一切事物，不仅对着人间一切美好的事物，而且对着她刚才吻过的那个乞丐。
他知道她心里有这样的一爱一，因为他意识到，这一一夜他通宵达旦也有这样的感情，并且知道，正是这种一爱一把他同她连结在一起。
唉，要是他们的关系能保持在那天夜里的感情上，那该多好！“是的，那件可怕的事是在复一活节夜晚之后发生的呀！”
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