THE JURYMEN.
The corridors of the Court were already full of activity. The attendants hurried, out of breath, dragging their feet along the ground without lifting them, backwards and forwards, with all sorts of messages and papers. Ushers, advocates, and law officers passed hither and thither. Plaintiffs, and those of the accused who were not guarded, wandered sadly along the walls or sat waiting.
"Where is the Law Court?" Nekhludoff asked of an attendant.
"Which? There is the Civil Court and the Criminal Court."
"I am on the jury."
"The Criminal Court you should have said. Here to the right, then to the left--the second door."
Nekhludoff followed the direction.
Meanwhile some of the Criminal Court jurymen who were late had hurriedly passed into a separate room. At the door mentioned two men stood waiting.
One, a tall, fat merchant, a kind-hearted fellow, had evidently partaken of some refreshments and a glass of something, and was in most pleasant spirits. The other was a shopman of Jewish extraction. They were talking about the price of wool when Nekhludoff came up and asked them if this was the jurymen's room.
"Yes, my dear sir, this is it. One of us? On the jury, are you?" asked the merchant, with a merry wink.
"Ah, well, we shall have a go at the work together," he continued, after Nekhludoff had answered in the affirmative. "My name is Baklasheff, merchant of the Second Guild," he said, putting out his broad, soft, flexible hand.
"With whom have I the honour?"
Nekhludoff gave his name and passed into the jurymen's room.
Inside the room were about ten persons of all sorts. They had come but a short while ago, and some were sitting, others walking up and down, looking at each other, and making each other's acquaintance. There was a retired colonel in uniform; some were in frock coats, others in morning coats, and only one wore a peasant's dress.
Their faces all had a certain look of satisfaction at the prospect of fulfilling a public duty, although many of them had had to leave their businesses, and most were complaining of it.
The jurymen talked among themselves about the weather, the early spring, and the business before them, some having been introduced, others just guessing who was who. Those who were not acquainted with Nekhludoff made haste to get introduced, evidently looking upon this as an honour, and he taking it as his due, as he always did when among strangers. Had he been asked why he considered himself above the majority of people, he could not have given an answer; the life he had been living of late was not particularly meritorious. The fact of his speaking English, French, and German with a good accent, and of his wearing the best linen, clothes, ties, and studs, bought from the most expensive dealers in these goods, he quite knew would not serve as a reason for claiming superiority. At the same time he did claim superiority, and accepted the respect paid him as his due, and was hurt if he did not get it. In the jurymen's room his feelings were hurt by disrespectful treatment. Among the jury there happened to be a man whom he knew, a former teacher of his sister's children, Peter Gerasimovitch. Nekhludoff never knew his surname, and even bragged a bit about this. This man was now a master at a public school. Nekhludoff could not stand his familiarity, his self-satisfied laughter, his vulgarity, in short.
"Ah ha! You're also trapped." These were the words, accompanied with boisterous laughter, with which Peter Gerasimovitch greeted Nekhludoff. "Have you not managed to get out of it?"
"I never meant to get out of it," replied Nekhludoff, gloomily, and in a tone of severity.
"Well, I call this being public spirited. But just wait until you get hungry or sleepy; you'll sing to another tune then."
"This son of a priest will be saying 'thou' [in Russian, as in many other languages, "thou" is used generally among people very familiar with each other, or by superiors to inferiors] to me next," thought Nekhludoff, and walked away, with such a look of sadness on his face, as might have been natural if he had just heard of the death of all his relations. He came up to a group that had formed itself round a clean-shaven, tall, dignified man, who was recounting something with great animation. This man was talking about the trial going on in the Civil Court as of a case well known to himself, mentioning the judges and a celebrated advocate by name. He was saying that it seemed wonderful how the celebrated advocate had managed to give such a clever turn to the affair that an old lady, though she had the right on her side, would have to pay a large sum to her opponent. "The advocate is a genius," he said.
The listeners heard it all with respectful attention, and several of them tried to put in a word, but the man interrupted them, as if he alone knew all about it.
Though Nekhludoff had arrived late, he had to wait a long time. One of the members of the Court had not yet come, and everybody was kept waiting.
聂赫留朵夫走进法院的时候，走廊里已很热闹了。
法警手拿公文，跑来跑去，执行任务，有的快步，有的小跑，两脚不离地面，鞋底擦着地板，沙沙发响，都累得上气不接下气。民事执行吏、律师和司法官来来往往，川流不息，原告和没有在押的被告垂头丧气地在墙边踱步，有的坐在那儿等待。
“区法庭在哪里？”聂赫留朵夫问一个法警。
“您要哪一个法庭？有民事法庭，有高等法庭。”
“我是陪审员。”
“那是刑事法庭。您该早说。从这儿向右走，然后往左拐，第二个门就是。”
聂赫留朵夫照他的话走去。
法警说的那个门口站着两个人：一个是体格魁伟的商人，模样和善，显然刚喝过酒，吃过点心，情绪极好；另一个是犹太籍店员。聂赫留朵夫走到他们跟前，问他们这里是不是陪审员议事室时，他们正在谈论一毛一皮的价格。
“就是这儿，先生，就是这儿。您跟我们一样也是陪审员吧？”模样和善的商人快乐地挤挤眼问。“那好，我们一起来干吧，”他听到聂赫留朵夫肯定的回答，继续说，“我是二等商人①巴克拉肖夫，”他伸出一只又软又宽又厚的手说，“得辛苦一番了。请教贵姓？”
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①帝俄商人同业公会中，商人按资本多少分三等，小商人无权参加。
聂赫留朵夫报了姓名，走进陪审员议事室。
在不大的陪审员议事室里，有十来个不同行业的人。大家都刚刚到，有的坐着，有的走来走去，互相打量着，作着介绍。有一个退役军人身穿军服，其余的人都穿着礼服或便服，只有一个穿着农民的紧身长袍。
尽管有不少人是放下本职工作来参加陪审的，嘴里还抱怨这事麻烦，但个个都得意扬扬，自认为是在做一项重大的社会工作。
陪审员有的已相互认识，有的还在揣测对方的身分，但都在一交一谈，谈天气，谈早来的春天，谈当前要审理的案子。那些还不认识聂赫留朵夫的人，赶紧来同他认识，显然认为这是一种特殊的荣誉。聂赫留朵夫却象平素同陌生人应酬一样，觉得这种情况是很自然的。要是有人问他，为什么他自认为高人一等，他可答不上来，因为他这辈子并没有什么出众的地方。他讲得一口流利的英语、法语和德语，身上的衬衫、衣服、领带、袖扣都是头等货，但这些都不能成为他地位优越的理由。这一层他自己也明白。然而他无疑还是以此自豪，把人家对他的尊敬看作天经地义。要是人家不尊敬他，他就会生气。在陪审员议事室里，恰恰有人不尊敬他，使他很不高兴。原来在陪审员中有一个聂赫留朵夫认识的人，叫彼得·盖拉西莫维奇（聂赫留朵夫不知道他姓什么，很瞧不起他，因此从来没有和他谈过话），在他姐姐家做过家庭教师，大学毕业后当了中学教师。聂赫留朵夫对他的不拘礼节，对他那种旁若无人的纵声大笑，总之对他那种象聂赫留朵夫姐姐所说的“粗一鲁无礼”，一向很反感。
“嘿，连您也掉进来了，”彼得·盖拉西莫维奇迎着聂赫留朵夫哈哈大笑。“您也逃不掉吗？”
“我根本就不想逃，”聂赫留朵夫严厉而冷淡地回答。
“嗯，这可是一种公民的献身一精一神哪！不过，您等着吧，他们会搞得您吃不上饭，睡不成觉的。到那时您就会换一种调子了！”彼得·盖拉西莫维奇笑得更响亮，说。
“这个大司祭的儿子马上就要同我称兄道弟了，”聂赫留朵夫想，脸上现出极其不快的神色，仿佛刚刚接到亲人全部死光的噩耗。聂赫留朵夫撇下他，往人群走去。那里人们围着一个脸刮得光光的相貌堂堂的高个子，听他眉飞色舞地说话。这位先生讲着此刻正在民事法庭审理的一个案子，似乎很熟悉案情，叫得出法官和著名律师的名字和父名。他讲到那位著名律师神通广大，怎样使那个案子急转直下，叫那个道理全在她一边的老太太不得不拿出一大笔钱付给对方。
“真是一位天才律师！”他说。
大家听着都肃然起敬，有些人想插嘴发表一些观感，可是都被他打断，仿佛只有他一人知道全部底细。
聂赫留朵夫虽然迟到，但还得等待好久。有一名法官直到此刻还没有来，把审讯工作耽搁了。