A Scandal in Bohemia
I.
To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. .....
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Für Sherlock Holmes ist sie immer nur DIE Frau. Ich habe kaum je gehört, daß er sie anders genannt hätte. In seinen Augen übertrifft und beherrscht sie ihr ganzes Geschlecht. Nicht daß er irgendein Gefühl wie Liebe für Irene Adler empfände.
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Za Sherlocka Holmesa ona je uvijek žena. Rijetko sam ga čuo kako joj spomenuti pod bilo kojim drugim imenom. U njegovim očima ona pomrčine i prevladava cijeli njezin spol. To nije bio da je on osjetio nikakve emocije slično ljubav za Irene Adler. .....
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Skandal u Češkoj
I
Za Sherlocka Holmesa ona je uvijek bila TA žena. Rijetko sam čuo da ju je ikad spomenuo pod bilo kojim drugim imenom. U njegovim očima ona je zasjenjivala i dominirala čitavim svojim spolom. Nije da je osjećao bilo kakve emocije poput ljubavi prema Irene Adler. .....
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..... All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. .....
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..... Alle Gefühle, und dieses im besonderen, waren seinem kalten, präzisen, doch bewundernswert ausgeglichenen Verstand verhaßt. Er war meines Wissens nach die vollkommenste Denk- und Beobachtungsmaschine, die die Welt je gesehen hat, doch als Liebhaber wäre er fehl am Platze gewesen. .....
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..... Sve emocije, i to jedan posebno, bili mrzak njegovu hladnoću, precizno, ali krasno uravnotežen um. Bio sam ga uzeti, najsavršeniji rezoniranje i promatranje stroj koji je svijet vidio, ali kao ljubavnik on bi se stavi u lažnom položaju. .....
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..... Sve emocije, a posebno ta, bili su mrski njegovom hladnom, preciznom, ali zadivljujuće uravnoteženom umu. Bio je, koliko znam, najsavršenija mašina za razmišljanje i promatranje, koju je svijet ikad vidio, ali kao ljubavnik bi se našao u potpuno pogrešnoj uilozi. .....
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..... He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for the trained teasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.
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..... Von den zarteren Leidenschaften sprach er immer nur mit Hohn und Spott. Sie waren eine wunderbare Sache für den Beobachter – ausgezeichnet geeignet, den Schleier von den Motiven und Handlungen der Menschen zu lüften. Doch für einen geübten Denker waren derlei Einmischungen in sein empfindliches und fein justiertes Temperament ein Ablenkungsfaktor, der sämtliche Ergebnisse seiner Überlegungen in Zweifel ziehen konnte. Eine Verschmutzung in einem empfindlichen Instrument oder ein Sprung in einem seiner starken Vergrößerungsgläser wären für eine Natur wie seine nicht störender gewesen als ein starkes Gefühl. Und doch gab es für ihn diese einzige Frau, und diese Frau war die verstorbene Irene Adler von zweifelhaftem und fragwürdigem Andenken.
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I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in following out those clews, and clearing up those mysteries which had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time to time I heard some vague account of his doings: of his summons to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of my former friend and companion.
One night — it was on the twentieth of March, 1888 — I was returning from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his drug-created dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which had formerly been in part my own.
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