sabotage. Has obviously been in prison quite a
time already, has perfected his tapping and is
devoured by the wish to prove his innocence.
Still in the simple belief that his subjective
guilt or innocence makes a di;erence, and
with no idea of the higher interests which are
really at stake. In all probability he was now
sitting on his bunk, writing his hundredth
protest to the authorities, who will never read
it, or the hundredth letter to his wife, who
will never receive it; has in despair grown a
beard—a black Pushkin beard—has given
up washing and fallen into the habit of biting his nails and of erotic daydreams. Nothing
is worse in prison than the consciousness of
one’s innocence; it prevents acclimatization
and undermines one’s morale…Suddenly the
ticking started again.
Rubashov sat down quickly on the bunk,
but he had already missed the ;rst two letters. No. 402 was now tapping quickly and less
clearly; he was obviously very excited:
…rves you right.
“Serves you right.”
;at was unexpected. No. 402 was a con-
formist. He hated the oppositional heretics, as
one should, believed that history ran on rails
according to an infallible plan and an infal-
lible pointsman, No. 1. He believed that his
own arrest was merely the result of a misun-
derstanding, and that all the catastrophes of
the last years—from China to Spain, from
the famine to the extermination of the old
guard—were either regrettable accidents or
caused by the devilish tricks of Rubashov and
his oppositional friends. No. 402’s Pushkin
beard vanished; he now had a clean-shaven,
fanatical face; he kept his cell painfully tidy
and conformed strictly to the regulations.
;ere was no sense in arguing with him; this
kind was unteachable. But neither was there
any sense in cutting o; the only and perhaps
the last contact with the world.
Who? knocked Rubashov very clearly and
;e answer came in agitated ;ts and starts:
None of your business.
Cômo passôu Vm. â nôite?
How have you passed the night?
Mûito mal, não púde dormír. Tíve fébre tôda â
nôite. Sínto dôres êm tôdo ô côrpo.
Very bad. I have not sleeped; i have had the
fever during all night. I fell some pain every
Vejámos â língua; têm Vm. vontáde dê vomitár?
Live me see your tongue. Have you pain to
Yes, sir, some times.
Está Vm. sequiôso?
Are you altered?
Sím, senhôr; tenho sêde â miúde,
Yes, i have thursty often.
Dêixe-me apalpár-lhe ô púlso.
Let me feel your pulse.
It is some fever.
Júlga Vm. â mínha doênça perigósa?
Do you think my illness dangerous?
Â súa situação não é dê cuidádo.
Your stat have nothing from troublesome.
Eu vôu escrevêr â recêita pâra mandál-a âo sêu
It must to send to the apothecary, i go to
write the prescription.
Dê quê cônsta ô remédio quê êu dêvo tomár?
What is composed the medicine what i have
Dê rheubárbo, crémor-dê tártaro, etc.
Rhubarb and tartar cream, etc.
Resguardár-se dô frío; ê, êm dôus ôu três días,
Take care to hold you warme ly, and in two
or three days you shall be cured.
Pedro Carolino, from “;e New Guide of
the Conversation, in Portuguese and English.”
When Carolino compiled this book for students in
Portugal, he did not know any English; he relied
on a Portuguese-to-French phrasebook and a
French-to-English dictionary. ;e published result
became popular for its unintended comic value
and prompted Mark Twain later in the century
to write, “Nobody can add to the absurdity of this
book, nobody can imitate it successfully, nobody can
hope to produce its fellow.”