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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30723-8.txt b/30723-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc07ea5 --- /dev/null +++ b/30723-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9768 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Fathers and Children, by Ivan Sergeevich +Turgenev, Translated by Constance Clara Garnett + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Fathers and Children + + +Author: Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev + + + +Release Date: December 21, 2009 [eBook #30723] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN*** + + +E-text prepared by Ron Swanson from page images generously made available +by Internet Archive/American Libraries +(http://www.archive.org/details/americana) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 30723-h.htm or 30723-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30723/30723-h/30723-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30723/30723-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive/American Libraries. See + http://www.archive.org/details/harvardclassicss19elio + + + + + +FATHERS AND CHILDREN + + +[Frontispiece: AVENUE AT SPASSKOE, TURGENEV'S ESTATE] + + +The Harvard Classics +Shelf of Fiction +[From Vol. 19] +Selected by Charles W. Eliot Ll.D. + + +FATHERS AND CHILDREN + +by + +IVAN TURGENEV + +Translated by Constance Garnett + +Edited with Notes and Introductions by William Allan Neilson Ph.D. + + + + + + + +P. F. Collier & Son +New York + +Published under special arrangement with +The Macmillan Company + +Copyright, 1917 +By P. F. Collier & Son + + + + +CONTENTS + + +BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE + +CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS: + I. BY EMILE MELCHIOR, VICOMTE DE VOGÜÉ + II. BY WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS + III. BY K. WALISZEWSKI + IV. BY RICHARD H. P. CURLE + V. BY MAURICE BARING + +LIST OF CHARACTERS + +CHAPTER I + +CHAPTER II + +CHAPTER III + +CHAPTER IV + +CHAPTER V + +CHAPTER VI + +CHAPTER VII + +CHAPTER VIII + +CHAPTER IX + +CHAPTER X + +CHAPTER XI + +CHAPTER XII + +CHAPTER XIII + +CHAPTER XIV + +CHAPTER XV + +CHAPTER XVI + +CHAPTER XVII + +CHAPTER XVIII + +CHAPTER XIX + +CHAPTER XX + +CHAPTER XXI + +CHAPTER XXII + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CHAPTER XXIV + +CHAPTER XXV + +CHAPTER XXVI + +CHAPTER XXVII + +CHAPTER XXVI + + + + +BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE + + +Ivan Sergyevitch Turgenev came of an old stock of the Russian nobility. +He was born in Orel, in the province of Orel, which lies more than a +hundred miles south of Moscow, on October 28, 1818. His education was +begun by tutors at home in the great family mansion in the town of +Spask, and he studied later at the universities of Moscow, St. +Petersburg, and Berlin. The influence of the last, and of the +compatriots with whom he associated there, was very great; and when he +returned to Moscow in 1841, he was ambitious to teach Hegel to the +students there. Before this could be arranged, however, he entered the +Ministry of the Interior at St. Petersburg. While there his interests +turned more and more toward literature. He wrote verses and comedies, +read George Sand, and made the acquaintance of Dostoevsky and the +critic Bielinski. His mother, a tyrannical woman with an ungovernable +temper, was eager that he should make a brilliant official career; so, +when he resigned from the Ministry in 1845, she showed her disapproval +by cutting down his allowance and thus forcing him to support himself +by the profession he had chosen. + +Turgenev was an enthusiastic hunter; and it was his experiences in the +woods of his native province that supplied the material for "A +Sportsman's Sketches," the book that first brought him reputation. The +first of these papers appeared in 1847, and in the same year he left +Russia in the train of Pauline Viardot, a singer and actress, to whom +he had been devoted for three or four years and with whom he maintained +relations for the rest of his life. For a year or two he lived chiefly +in Paris or at a country house at Courtavenel in Brie, which belonged +to Madame Viardot; but in 1850 he returned to Russia. His experiences +were not such as to induce him to repatriate himself permanently. He +found Dostoevsky banished to Siberia and Bielinski dead; and himself +under suspicion by the government on account of the popularity of "A +Sportsman's Sketches." For praising Gogol, who had just died, he was +arrested and imprisoned for a short time, and for the next two years +kept under police surveillance. Meantime he continued to write, and by +the time that the close of the Crimean War made it possible for him +again to go to western Europe, he was recognized as standing at the +head of living Russian authors. His mother was now dead, the estates +were settled, and with an income of about $5,000 a year he became a +wanderer. He had, or imagined he had, very bad health, and the eminent +specialists he consulted sent him from one resort to another, to Rome, +the Isle of Wight, Soden, and the like. When Madame Viardot left the +stage in 1864 and took up her residence at Baden-Baden, he followed her +and built there a small house for himself. They returned to France +after the Franco-Prussian War, and bought a villa at Bougival, near +Paris, and this was his home for the rest of his life. Here, on +September 3, 1883, he died after a long delirium due to his suffering +from cancer of the spinal cord. His body was taken to St. Petersburg +and was buried with national honors. + +The two works by Turgenev contained in the present volume are +characteristic in their concern with social and political questions, +and in the prominence in both of them of heroes who fail in action. +Turgenev preaches no doctrine in his novels, has no remedy for the +universe; but he sees clearly certain weaknesses of the Russian +character and exposes these with absolute candor yet without +unkindness. Much as he lived abroad, his books are intensely Russian; +yet of the great Russian novelists he alone rivals the masters of +western Europe in the matter of form. In economy of means, +condensation, felicity of language, and excellence of structure he +surpasses all his countrymen; and "Fathers and Children" and "A House +of Gentlefolk" represent his great and delicate art at its best. + +W. A. N. + + + + +CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS + + + + +I +BY EMILE MELCHIOR, VICOMTE DE VOGÜÉ + + +Ivan Sergyevitch (Turgenev) has given us a most complete picture of +Russian society. The same general types are always brought forward; +and, as later writers have presented exactly similar ones, with but few +modifications, we are forced to believe them true to life. First, the +peasant: meek, resigned, dull, pathetic in suffering, like a child who +does not know why he suffers; naturally sharp and tricky when not +stupefied by liquor; occasionally roused to violent passion. Then, the +intelligent middle class: the small landed proprietors of two +generations. The old proprietor is ignorant and good-natured, of +respectable family, but with coarse habits; hard, from long experience +of serfdom, servile himself, but admirable in all other relations of +life. + +The young man of this class is of quite a different type. His +intellectual growth having been too rapid, he sometimes plunges into +Nihilism. He is often well educated, melancholy, rich in ideas but poor +in executive ability; always preparing and expecting to accomplish +something of importance, filled with vague and generous projects for +the public good. This is the chosen type of hero in all Russian novels. +Gogol introduced it, and Tolstoy prefers it above all others. + +The favorite hero of young girls and romantic women is neither the +brilliant officer, the artist, nor rich lord, but almost universally +this provincial Hamlet, conscientious, cultivated, intelligent, but of +feeble will, who, returning from his studies in foreign lands, is full +of scientific theories about the improvement of mankind and the good of +the lower classes, and eager to apply these theories on his own estate. +It is quite necessary that he should have an estate of his own. He will +have the hearty sympathy of the reader in his efforts to improve the +condition of his dependents. + +The Russians well understand the conditions of the future prosperity of +their country; but, as they themselves acknowledge, they know not how +to go to work to accomplish it. + +In regard to the women of this class, Turgenev, strange to say, has +little to say of the mothers. This probably reveals the existence of +some old wound, some bitter experience of his own. Without a single +exception, all the mothers in his novels are either wicked or +grotesque. He reserves the treasures of his poetic fancy for the young +girls of his creation. To him the young girl of the country province is +the corner-stone of the fabric of society. Reared in the freedom of +country life, placed in the most healthy social conditions, she is +conscientious, frank, affectionate, without being romantic; less +intelligent than man, but more resolute. In each of his romances an +irresolute man is invariably guided by a woman of strong will. + +Such are, generally speaking, the characters the author describes, +which bear so unmistakably the stamp of nature that one cannot refrain +from saying as he closes the book, "These must be portraits from life!" +which criticism is always the highest praise, the best sanction of +works of the imagination.--From "Turgenev", in "The Russian Novelists," +translated by J. L. Edmands (1887). + + + + +II +BY WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS + + +Turgenev was of that great race which has more than any other fully and +freely uttered human nature, without either false pride or false shame +in its nakedness. His themes were oftenest those of the French +novelist, but how far he was from handling them in the French manner +and with the French spirit! In his hands sin suffered no dramatic +punishment; it did not always show itself as unhappiness, in the +personal sense, but it was always unrest, and without the hope of +peace. If the end did not appear, the fact that it must be miserable +always appeared. Life showed itself to me in different colors after I +had once read Turgenev; it became more serious, more awful, and with +mystical responsibilities I had not known before. My gay American +horizons were bathed in the vast melancholy of the Slav, patient, +agnostic, trustful. At the same time nature revealed herself to me +through him with an intimacy she had not hitherto shown me. There are +passages in this wonderful writer alive with a truth that seems drawn +from the reader's own knowledge: who else but Turgenev and one's own +most secret self ever felt all the rich, sad meaning of the night air +drawing in at the open window, of the fires burning in the darkness on +the distant fields? I try in vain to give some notion of the subtle +sympathy with nature which scarcely put itself into words with him. As +for the people of his fiction, though they were of orders and +civilizations so remote from my experience, they were of the eternal +human types whose origin and potentialities every one may find in his +own heart, and I felt their verity in every touch. + +I cannot describe the satisfaction his work gave me; I can only impart +some sense of it, perhaps, by saying that it was like a happiness I had +been waiting for all my life, and now that it had come, I was richly +content forever. I do not mean to say that the art of Turgenev +surpasses the art of Björnson; I think Björnson is quite as fine and +true. But the Norwegian deals with simple and primitive circumstances +for the most part, and always with a small world; and the Russian has +to do with human nature inside of its conventional shells, and his +scene is often as large as Europe. Even when it is as remote as Norway, +it is still related to the great capitals by the history if not the +actuality of the characters. Most of Turgenev's books I have read many +times over, all of them I have read more than twice. For a number of +years I read them again and again without much caring for other +fiction. It was only the other day that I read "Smoke" through once +more, with no diminished sense of its truth, but with somewhat less +than my first satisfaction in its art. Perhaps this was because I had +reached the point through my acquaintance with Tolstoy where I was +impatient even of the artifice that hid itself. In "Smoke" I was now +aware of an artifice that kept out of sight, but was still always +present somewhere, invisibly operating the story.--From "My Literary +Passions" (1895). + + + + +III +BY K. WALISZEWSKI + + +The second novel of the series, "Fathers and Children," stirred up a +storm the suddenness and violence of which it is not easy, nowadays, to +understand. The figure of Bazarov, the first "Nihilist"--thus baptized +by an inversion of epithet which was to win extraordinary success--is +merely intended to reveal a mental condition which, though the fact had +been insufficiently recognized, had already existed for some years. The +epithet itself had been in constant use since 1829, when Nadiéjdine +applied it to Pushkin, Polevoï, and some other subverters of the +classic tradition. Turgenev only extended its meaning by a new +interpretation, destined to be perpetuated by the tremendous success of +"Fathers and Children." There is nothing, or hardly anything, in +Bazarov, of the terrible revolutionary whom we have since learnt to +look for under this title. Turgenev was not the man to call up such a +figure. He was far too dreamy, too gentle, too good-natured a being. +Already, in the character of Roudine, he had failed, in the strangest +way, to catch the likeness of Bakounine, that fiery organiser of +insurrection, whom all Europe knew, and whom he had selected as his +model. Conceive Corot or Millet trying to paint some figure out of the +Last Judgment after Michael Angelo! Bazarov is the Nihilist in his +first phase, "in course of becoming," as the Germans would say, and he +is a pupil of the German universities. When Turgenev shaped the +character, he certainly drew on his own memories of his stay at Berlin, +at a time when Bruno Bauer was laying it down as a dogma that no +educated man ought to have opinions on any subject, and when Max +Stirner was convincing the young Hegelians that ideas were mere smoke +and dust, seeing that the only reality in existence was the individual +_Ego_. These teachings, eagerly received by the Russian youth, were +destined to produce a state of moral decomposition, the earliest +symptoms of which were admirably analysed by Turgenev. + +Bazarov is a very clever man, but clever in thought, and especially in +word, only. He scorns art, women, and family life. He does not know +what the point of honour means. He is a cynic in his love affairs, and +indifferent in his friendships. He has no respect even for paternal +tenderness, but he is full of contradictions, even to the extent of +fighting a duel about nothing at all, and sacrificing his life for the +first peasant he meets. And in this the resemblance is true, much more +general, indeed, than the model selected would lead one to imagine; so +general, in fact, that, apart from the question of art, Turgenev--he +has admitted it himself--felt as if he were drawing his own portrait; +and therefore it is, no doubt, that he has made his hero so +sympathetic.--From "A History of Russian Literature" (1900). + + + + +IV +BY RICHARD H. P. CURLE + + +But for the best expression of the bewilderment of life we have to turn +to the portrait of a man, to the famous Bazarov of "Fathers and +Children." Turgenev raises through him the eternal problem--Has +personality any hold, has life any meaning at all? The reality of this +figure, his contempt for nature, his egoism, his strength, his mothlike +weakness are so convincing that before his philosophy all other +philosophies seem to pale. He is the one who sees the life-illusion, +and yet, knowing that it is the mask of night, grasps at it, loathing +himself. You can hate Bazarov, you cannot have contempt for him. He is +a man of genius, rid of sentiment and hope, believing in nothing but +himself, to whom come, as from the darkness, all the violent questions +of life and death. "Fathers and Children" is simply an exposure of our +power to mould our own lives. Bazarov is a man of astonishing +intellect--he is the pawn of an emotion he despises; he is a man of +gigantic will--he can do nothing but destroy his own beliefs; he is a +man of intense life--he cannot avoid the first, brainless touch of +death. It is the hopeless fight of mind against instinct, of +determination against fate, of personality against impersonality. +Bazarov disdaining everyone, sick of all smallness, is roused to fury +by the obvious irritations of Pavel Petrovitch. Savagely announcing the +creed of nihilism and the end of romance, he has only to feel the calm, +aristocratic smile of Madame Odintsov fixed on him and he suffers all +the agony of first love. Determining to live and create, he has only to +play with death for a moment, and he is caught. But though he is the +most positive of all Turgenev's male portraits, there are others +linking up the chain of delusion. There is Rudin, typical of the unrest +of the idealist; there is Nezhdanov ("Virgin Soil"), typical of the +self-torture of the anarchist. There is Shubin ("On the Eve"), hiding +his misery in laughter, and Lavretsky ("A House of Gentlefolk"), hiding +his misery in silence. It is not necessary to search for further +examples. Turgenev put his hand upon the dark things. He perceived +character, struggling in the "clutch of circumstances," the tragic +moments, the horrible conflicts of personality. His figures have that +capability of suffering which (as someone has said) is the true sign of +life. They seem like real people, dazed and uncertain. No action of +theirs ever surprises you, because in each of them he has made you hear +an inward soliloquy.--From "Turgenev and the Life-Illusion," in "The +Fortnightly Review" (April, 1910). + + + + +V +BY MAURICE BARING + + +Turgenev did for Russian literature what Byron did for English +literature; he led the genius of Russia on a pilgrimage throughout all +Europe. And in Europe his work reaped a glorious harvest of praise. +Flaubert was astounded by him, George Sand looked up to him as to a +master, Taine spoke of his work as being the finest artistic production +since Sophocles. In Turgenev's work, Europe not only discovered +Turgenev, but it discovered Russia, the simplicity and the naturalness +of the Russian character; and this came as a revelation. For the first +time Europe came across the Russian woman whom Pushkin was the first to +paint; for the first time Europe came into contact with the Russian +soul; and it was the sharpness of this revelation which accounts for +the fact of Turgenev having received in the west an even greater meed +of praise than he was perhaps entitled to. + +In Russia Turgenev attained almost instant popularity. His "Sportsman's +Sketches" and his "Nest of Gentlefolk" made him not only famous but +universally popular. In 1862 the publication of his masterpiece +"Fathers and Children" dealt his reputation a blow. The revolutionary +elements in Russia regarded his hero, Bazarov, as a calumny and a +libel; whereas the reactionary elements in Russia looked upon "Fathers +and Children" as a glorification of Nihilism. Thus he satisfied nobody. +He fell between two stools. This, perhaps, could only happen in Russia +to this extent; and for that same reason as that which made Russian +criticism didactic. The conflicting elements of Russian society were so +terribly in earnest in fighting their cause, that anyone whom they did +not regard as definitely for them was at once considered an enemy, and +an impartial delineation of any character concerned in the political +struggle was bound to displease both parties. If a novelist drew a +Nihilist, he must be one or the other, a hero or a scoundrel, if either +the revolutionaries or the reactionaries were to be pleased. If in +England the militant suffragists suddenly had a huge mass of educated +opinion behind them and a still larger mass of educated public opinion +against them, and some one were to draw in a novel an impartial picture +of a suffragette, the same thing would happen. On a small scale, as far +as the suffragettes are concerned, it has happened in the case of Mr. +Wells. But if Turgenev's popularity suffered a shock in Russia from +which it with difficulty recovered, in western Europe it went on +increasing. Especially in England, Turgenev became the idol of all that +was eclectic, and admiration for Turgenev a hallmark of good taste.... + +"Fathers and Children" is as beautifully constructed as a drama of +Sophocles; the events move inevitably to a tragic close. There is not a +touch of banality from beginning to end, and not an unnecessary word; +the portraits of the old father and mother, the young Kirsanov, and all +the minor characters are perfect; and amidst the trivial crowd Bazarov +stands out like Lucifer, the strongest--the only strong character--that +Turgenev created, the first Nihilist--for if Turgenev was not the first +to invent the word, he was the first to apply it in this sense. + +Bazarov is the incarnation of the Lucifer type that recurs again and +again in Russian history and fiction, in sharp contrast to the meek, +humble type of Ivan Durak. Lermontov's Pechorin was in some respects an +anticipation of Bazarov; so were the many Russian rebels. He is the man +who denies, to whom art is a silly toy, who detests abstractions, +knowledge, and the love of Nature; he believes in nothing; he bows to +nothing; he can break, but he cannot bend; he does break, and that is +the tragedy, but, breaking, he retains his invincible pride, and + + "not cowardly puts off his helmet," + +and he dies "valiantly vanquished." + +In the pages which describe his death Turgenev reaches the high-water +mark of his art, his moving quality, his power, his reserve. For manly +pathos they rank among the greatest scenes in literature, stronger than +the death of Colonel Newcome and the best of Thackeray. Among English +novelists it is, perhaps, only Meredith who has struck such strong, +piercing chords, nobler than anything in Daudet or Maupassant, more +reserved than anything in Victor Hugo, and worthy of the great poets, +of the tragic pathos of Goethe and Dante. The character of Bazarov, as +has been said, created a sensation and endless controversy. The +revolutionaries thought him a caricature and a libel, the reactionaries +a scandalous glorification of the Devil; and impartial men such as +Dostoevsky, who knew the revolutionaries at first hand, thought the +type unreal. It is impossible that Bazarov was not like the Nihilists +of the sixties; but in any case as a figure in fiction, whatever the +fact may be, he lives and will continue to live....--From "An Outline +of Russian Literature" (1914). + + + + +LIST OF CHARACTERS + + +NIKOLAI PETROVITCH KIRSANOV, a landowner. + +PAVEL PETROVITCH KIRSANOV, his brother. + +ARKADY (ARKASHA) NIKOLAEVITCH (_or_ NIKOLAITCH), his son. + +YEVGENY (ENYUSHA) VASSILYEVITCH (_or_ VASSILYITCH) BAZAROV, friend of +Arkady. + +VASSILY IVANOVITCH (_or_ IVANITCH), father of Bazarov. + +ARINA VLASYEVNA, mother of Bazarov. + +FEDOSYA (FENITCHKA) NIKOLAEVNA, second wife of Nikolai. + +ANNA SERGYEVNA ODINTSOV, a wealthy widow. + +KATYA SERGYEVNA, her sister. + +PORFIRY PLATONITCH, her neighbor. + +MATVY ILYITCH KOLYAZIN, government commissioner. + +EVDOKSYA (_or_ AVDOTYA) NIKITISHNA KUKSHIN, an emancipated lady. + +VIKTOR SITNIKOV, a would-be liberal. + +PIOTR (_pron. P-yotr_), servant to Nikolai. + +PROKOFITCH, head servant to Nikolai. + +DUNYASHA, a maid servant. + +MITYA, infant of Fedosya. + +TIMOFEITCH, manager for Vassily. + + + + +FATHERS AND CHILDREN +A NOVEL + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +'Well, Piotr, not in sight yet?' was the question asked on May the +20th, 1859, by a gentleman of a little over forty, in a dusty coat and +checked trousers, who came out without his hat on to the low steps of +the posting station at S----. He was addressing his servant, a chubby +young fellow, with whitish down on his chin, and little, lack-lustre +eyes. + +The servant, in whom everything--the turquoise ring in his ear, the +streaky hair plastered with grease, and the civility of his +movements--indicated a man of the new, improved generation, glanced +with an air of indulgence along the road, and made answer: + +'No, sir; not in sight.' + +'Not in sight?' repeated his master. + +'No, sir,' responded the man a second time. + +His master sighed, and sat down on a little bench. We will introduce +him to the reader while he sits, his feet tucked under him, gazing +thoughtfully round. + +His name was Nikolai Petrovitch Kirsanov. He had, twelve miles from the +posting station, a fine property of two hundred souls, or, as he +expressed it--since he had arranged the division of his land with the +peasants, and started 'a farm'--of nearly five thousand acres. His +father, a general in the army, who served in 1812, a coarse, +half-educated, but not ill-natured man, a typical Russian, had been in +harness all his life, first in command of a brigade, and then of a +division, and lived constantly in the provinces, where, by virtue of +his rank, he played a fairly important part. Nikolai Petrovitch was +born in the south of Russia like his elder brother, Pavel, of whom more +hereafter. He was educated at home till he was fourteen, surrounded by +cheap tutors, free-and-easy but toadying adjutants, and all the usual +regimental and staff set. His mother, one of the Kolyazin family, as a +girl called Agathe, but as a general's wife Agathokleya Kuzminishna +Kirsanov, was one of those military ladies who take their full share of +the duties and dignities of office. She wore gorgeous caps and rustling +silk dresses; in church she was the first to advance to the cross; she +talked a great deal in a loud voice, let her children kiss her hand in +the morning, and gave them her blessing at night--in fact, she got +everything out of life she could. Nikolai Petrovitch, as a general's +son--though so far from being distinguished by courage that he even +deserved to be called 'a funk'--was intended, like his brother Pavel, +to enter the army; but he broke his leg on the very day when the news +of his commission came, and, after being two months in bed, retained a +slight limp to the end of his days. His father gave him up as a bad +job, and let him go into the civil service. He took him to Petersburg +directly he was eighteen, and placed him in the university. His brother +happened about the same time to be made an officer in the Guards. The +young men started living together in one set of rooms, under the remote +supervision of a cousin on their mother's side, Ilya Kolyazin, an +official of high rank. Their father returned to his division and his +wife, and only rarely sent his sons large sheets of grey paper, +scrawled over in a bold clerkly hand. At the bottom of these sheets +stood in letters, enclosed carefully in scroll-work, the words, 'Piotr +Kirsanov, General-Major.' In 1835 Nikolai Petrovitch left the +university, a graduate, and in the same year General Kirsanov was put +on to the retired list after an unsuccessful review, and came to +Petersburg with his wife to live. He was about to take a house in the +Tavrichesky Gardens, and had joined the English club, but he died +suddenly of an apoplectic fit. Agathokleya Kuzminishna soon followed +him; she could not accustom herself to a dull life in the capital; she +was consumed by the ennui of existence away from the regiment. +Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch had already, in his parents' lifetime and +to their no slight chagrin, had time to fall in love with the daughter +of his landlord, a petty official, Prepolovensky. She was a pretty and, +as it is called, 'advanced' girl; she used to read the serious articles +in the 'Science' column of the journals. He married her directly the +term of mourning was over; and leaving the civil service in which his +father had by favour procured him a post, was perfectly blissful with +his Masha, first in a country villa near the Lyesny Institute, +afterwards in town in a pretty little flat with a clean staircase and a +draughty drawing-room, and then in the country, where he settled +finally, and where in a short time a son, Arkady, was born to him. The +young couple lived very happily and peacefully; they were scarcely ever +apart; they read together, sang and played duets together on the piano; +she tended her flowers and looked after the poultry-yard; he sometimes +went hunting, and busied himself with the estate, while Arkady grew and +grew in the same happy and peaceful way. Ten years passed like a dream. +In 1847 Kirsanov's wife died. He almost succumbed to this blow; in a +few weeks his hair was grey; he was getting ready to go abroad, if +possible to distract his mind ... but then came the year 1848. He +returned unwillingly to the country, and, after a rather prolonged +period of inactivity, began to take an interest in improvements in the +management of his land. In 1855 he brought his son to the university; +he spent three winters with him in Petersburg, hardly going out +anywhere, and trying to make acquaintance with Arkady's young +companions. The last winter he had not been able to go, and here we +have him in the May of 1859, already quite grey, stoutish, and rather +bent, waiting for his son, who had just taken his degree, as once he +had taken it himself. + +The servant, from a feeling of propriety, and perhaps, too, not anxious +to remain under the master's eye, had gone to the gate, and was smoking +a pipe. Nikolai Petrovitch bent his head, and began staring at the +crumbling steps; a big mottled fowl walked sedately towards him, +treading firmly with its great yellow legs; a muddy cat gave him an +unfriendly look, twisting herself coyly round the railing. The sun was +scorching; from the half-dark passage of the posting station came an +odour of hot rye-bread. Nikolai Petrovitch fell to dreaming. 'My son +... a graduate ... Arkasha ...' were the ideas that continually came +round again and again in his head; he tried to think of something else, +and again the same thoughts returned. He remembered his dead wife.... +'She did not live to see it!' he murmured sadly. A plump, dark-blue +pigeon flew into the road, and hurriedly went to drink in a puddle near +the well. Nikolai Petrovitch began looking at it, but his ear had +already caught the sound of approaching wheels. + +'It sounds as if they're coming sir,' announced the servant, popping in +from the gateway. + +Nikolai Petrovitch jumped up, and bent his eyes on the road. A carriage +appeared with three posting-horses harnessed abreast; in the carriage +he caught a glimpse of the blue band of a student's cap, the familiar +outline of a dear face. + +'Arkasha! Arkasha!' cried Kirsanov, and he ran waving his hands.... A +few instants later, his lips were pressed to the beardless, dusty, +sunburnt-cheek of the youthful graduate. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +'Let me shake myself first, daddy,' said Arkady, in a voice tired from +travelling, but boyish and clear as a bell, as he gaily responded to +his father's caresses; 'I am covering you with dust.' + +'Never mind, never mind,' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, smiling +tenderly, and twice he struck the collar of his son's cloak and his own +greatcoat with his hand. 'Let me have a look at you; let me have a look +at you,' he added, moving back from him, but immediately he went with +hurried steps towards the yard of the station, calling, 'This way, this +way; and horses at once.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch seemed far more excited than his son; he seemed a +little confused, a little timid. Arkady stopped him. + +'Daddy,' he said, 'let me introduce you to my great friend, Bazarov, +about whom I have so often written to you. He has been so good as to +promise to stay with us.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch went back quickly, and going up to a tall man in a +long, loose, rough coat with tassels, who had only just got out of the +carriage, he warmly pressed the ungloved red hand, which the latter did +not at once hold out to him. + +'I am heartily glad,' he began, 'and very grateful for your kind +intention of visiting us.... Let me know your name, and your father's.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyev,' answered Bazarov, in a lazy but manly voice; and +turning back the collar of his rough coat, he showed Nikolai Petrovitch +his whole face. It was long and lean, with a broad forehead, a nose +flat at the base and sharper at the end, large greenish eyes, and +drooping whiskers of a sandy colour; it was lighted up by a tranquil +smile, and showed self-confidence and intelligence. + +'I hope, dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch, you won't be dull with us,' +continued Nikolai Petrovitch. + +Bazarov's thin lips moved just perceptibly, though he made no reply, +but merely took off his cap. His long, thick hair did not hide the +prominent bumps on his head. + +'Then, Arkady,' Nikolai Petrovitch began again, turning to his son, +'shall the horses be put to at once? or would you like to rest?' + +'We will rest at home, daddy; tell them to harness the horses.' + +'At once, at once,' his father assented. 'Hey, Piotr, do you hear? Get +things ready, my good boy; look sharp.' + +Piotr, who as a modernised servant had not kissed the young master's +hand, but only bowed to him from a distance, again vanished through the +gateway. + +'I came here with the carriage, but there are three horses for your +coach too,' said Nikolai Petrovitch fussily, while Arkady drank some +water from an iron dipper brought him by the woman in charge of the +station, and Bazarov began smoking a pipe and went up to the driver, +who was taking out the horses; 'there are only two seats in the +carriage, and I don't know how your friend' ... + +'He will go in the coach,' interposed Arkady in an undertone. 'You must +not stand on ceremony with him, please. He's a splendid fellow, so +simple--you will see.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch's coachman brought the horses round. + +'Come, hurry up, bushy beard!' said Bazarov, addressing the driver. + +'Do you hear, Mityuha,' put in another driver, standing by with his +hands thrust behind him into the opening of his sheepskin coat, 'what +the gentleman called you? It's a bushy beard you are too.' + +Mityuha only gave a jog to his hat and pulled the reins off the heated +shaft-horse. + +'Look sharp, look sharp, lads, lend a hand,' cried Nikolai Petrovitch; +'there'll be something to drink our health with!' + +In a few minutes the horses were harnessed; the father and son were +installed in the carriage; Piotr climbed up on to the box; Bazarov +jumped into the coach, and nestled his head down into the leather +cushion; and both the vehicles rolled away. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +'So here you are, a graduate at last, and come home again,' said +Nikolai Petrovitch, touching Arkady now on the shoulder, now on the +knee. 'At last!' + +'And how is uncle? quite well?' asked Arkady, who, in spite of the +genuine, almost childish delight filling his heart, wanted as soon as +possible to turn the conversation from the emotional into a commonplace +channel. + +'Quite well. He was thinking of coming with me to meet you, but for +some reason or other he gave up the idea.' + +'And how long have you been waiting for me?' inquired Arkady. + +'Oh, about five hours.' + +'Dear old dad!' + +Arkady turned round quickly to his father, and gave him a sounding kiss +on the cheek. Nikolai Petrovitch gave vent to a low chuckle. + +'I have got such a capital horse for you!' he began. 'You will see. And +your room has been fresh papered.' + +'And is there a room for Bazarov?' + +'We will find one for him too.' + +'Please, dad, make much of him. I can't tell you how I prize his +friendship.' + +'Have you made friends with him lately?' + +'Yes, quite lately.' + +'Ah, that's how it is I did not see him last winter. What does he +study?' + +'His chief subject is natural science. But he knows everything. Next +year he wants to take his doctor's degree.' + +'Ah! he's in the medical faculty,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, and he +was silent for a little. 'Piotr,' he went on, stretching out his hand, +'aren't those our peasants driving along?' + +Piotr looked where his master was pointing. Some carts harnessed with +unbridled horses were moving rapidly along a narrow by-road. In each +cart there were one or two peasants in sheepskin coats, unbuttoned. + +'Yes, sir,' replied Piotr. + +'Where are they going,--to the town?' + +'To the town, I suppose. To the gin-shop,' he added contemptuously, +turning slightly towards the coachman, as though he would appeal to +him. But the latter did not stir a muscle; he was a man of the old +stamp, and did not share the modern views of the younger generation. + +'I have had a lot of bother with the peasants this year,' pursued +Nikolai Petrovitch, turning to his son. 'They won't pay their rent. +What is one to do?' + +'But do you like your hired labourers?' + +'Yes,' said Nikolai Petrovitch between his teeth. 'They're being set +against me, that's the mischief; and they don't do their best. They +spoil the tools. But they have tilled the land pretty fairly. When +things have settled down a bit, it will be all right. Do you take an +interest in farming now?' + +'You've no shade; that's a pity,' remarked Arkady, without answering +the last question. + +'I have had a great awning put up on the north side over the balcony,' +observed Nikolai Petrovitch; 'now we can have dinner even in the open +air.' + +'It'll be rather too like a summer villa.... Still, that's all +nonsense. What air though here! How delicious it smells! Really I fancy +there's nowhere such fragrance in the world as in the meadows here! And +the sky too.' + +Arkady suddenly stopped short, cast a stealthy look behind him, and +said no more. + +'Of course,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'you were born here, and so +everything is bound to strike you in a special----' + +'Come, dad, that makes no difference where a man is born.' + +'Still----' + +'No; it makes absolutely no difference.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch gave a sidelong glance at his son, and the carriage +went on a half-a-mile further before the conversation was renewed +between them. + +'I don't recollect whether I wrote to you,' began Nikolai Petrovitch, +'your old nurse, Yegorovna, is dead.' + +'Really? Poor thing! Is Prokofitch still living?' + +'Yes, and not a bit changed. As grumbling as ever. In fact, you won't +find many changes at Maryino.' + +'Have you still the same bailiff?' + +'Well, to be sure there is a change there. I decided not to keep about +me any freed serfs, who have been house servants, or, at least, not to +intrust them with duties of any responsibility.' (Arkady glanced +towards Piotr.) '_Il est libre, en effet_,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch +in an undertone; 'but, you see, he's only a valet. Now I have a +bailiff, a townsman; he seems a practical fellow. I pay him two hundred +and fifty roubles a year. But,' added Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing his +forehead and eyebrows with his hand, which was always an indication +with him of inward embarrassment, 'I told you just now that you would +not find changes at Maryino.... That's not quite correct. I think it my +duty to prepare you, though....' + +He hesitated for an instant, and then went on in French. + +'A severe moralist would regard my openness, as improper; but, in the +first place, it can't be concealed, and secondly, you are aware I have +always had peculiar ideas as regards the relation of father and son. +Though, of course, you would be right in blaming me. At my age.... In +short ... that ... that girl, about whom you have probably heard +already ...' + +'Fenitchka?' asked Arkady easily. + +Nikolai Petrovitch blushed. 'Don't mention her name aloud, please.... +Well ... she is living with me now. I have installed her in the house +... there were two little rooms there. But that can all be changed.' + +'Goodness, daddy, what for?' + +'Your friend is going to stay with us ... it would be awkward ...' + +'Please don't be uneasy on Bazarov's account. He's above all that.' + +'Well, but you too,' added Nikolai Petrovitch. 'The little lodge is so +horrid--that's the worst of it.' + +'Goodness, dad,' interposed Arkady, 'it's as if you were apologising; I +wonder you're not ashamed.' + +'Of course, I ought to be ashamed,' answered Nikolai Petrovitch, +flushing more and more. + +'Nonsense, dad, nonsense; please don't!' Arkady smiled affectionately. +'What a thing to apologise for!' he thought to himself, and his heart +was filled with a feeling of condescending tenderness for his kind, +soft-hearted father, mixed with a sense of secret superiority. 'Please, +stop,' he repeated once more, instinctively revelling in a +consciousness of his own advanced and emancipated condition. + +Nikolai Petrovitch glanced at him from under the fingers of the hand +with which he was still rubbing his forehead, and there was a pang in +his heart.... But at once he blamed himself for it. + +'Here are our meadows at last,' he said after a long silence. + +'And that in front is our forest, isn't it?' asked Arkady. + +'Yes. Only I have sold the timber. This year they will cut it down.' + +'Why did you sell it?' + +'The money was needed; besides, that land is to go to the peasants.' + +'Who don't pay you their rent?' + +'That's their affair; besides, they will pay it some day.' + +'I am sorry about the forest,' observed Arkady, and he began to look +about him. + +The country through which they were driving could not be called +picturesque. Fields upon fields stretched all along to the very +horizon, now sloping gently upwards, then dropping down again; in some +places woods were to be seen, and winding ravines, planted with low, +scanty bushes, recalling vividly the representation of them on the +old-fashioned maps of the times of Catherine. They came upon little +streams too with hollow banks; and tiny lakes with narrow dykes; and +little villages, with low hovels under dark and often tumble-down +roofs, and slanting barns with walls woven of brushwood and gaping +doorways beside neglected threshing-floors; and churches, some +brick-built, with stucco peeling off in patches, others wooden, with +crosses fallen askew, and overgrown grave-yards. Slowly Arkady's heart +sunk. To complete the picture, the peasants they met were all in +tatters and on the sorriest little nags; the willows, with their trunks +stripped of bark, and broken branches, stood like ragged beggars along +the roadside; cows lean and shaggy and looking pinched up by hunger, +were greedily tearing at the grass along the ditches. They looked as +though they had just been snatched out of the murderous clutches of +some threatening monster; and the piteous state of the weak, starved +beasts in the midst of the lovely spring day, called up, like a white +phantom, the endless, comfortless winter with its storms, and frosts, +and snows.... 'No,' thought Arkady, 'this is not a rich country; it +does not impress one by plenty or industry; it can't, it can't go on +like this, reforms are absolutely necessary ... but how is one to carry +them out, how is one to begin?' + +Such were Arkady's reflections; ... but even as he reflected, the +spring regained its sway. All around was golden green, all--trees, +bushes, grass--shone and stirred gently in wide waves under the soft +breath of the warm wind; from all sides flooded the endless trilling +music of the larks; the peewits were calling as they hovered over the +low-lying meadows, or noiselessly ran over the tussocks of grass; the +rooks strutted among the half-grown short spring-corn, standing out +black against its tender green; they disappeared in the already +whitening rye, only from time to time their heads peeped out amid its +grey waves. Arkady gazed and gazed, and his reflections grew slowly +fainter and passed away.... He flung off his cloak and turned to his +father, with a face so bright and boyish, that the latter gave him +another hug. + +'We're not far off now,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'we have only to +get up this hill, and the house will be in sight. We shall get on +together splendidly, Arkasha; you shall help me in farming the estate, +if only it isn't a bore to you. We must draw close to one another now, +and learn to know each other thoroughly, mustn't we!' + +'Of course,' said Arkady; 'but what an exquisite day it is to-day!' + +'To welcome you, my dear boy. Yes, it's spring in its full loveliness. +Though I agree with Pushkin--do you remember in Yevgeny Onyegin-- + + 'To me how sad thy coming is, + Spring, spring, sweet time of love! + What ...' + +'Arkady!' called Bazarov's voice from the coach, 'send me a match; I've +nothing to light my pipe with.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch stopped, while Arkady, who had begun listening to +him with some surprise, though with sympathy too, made haste to pull a +silver matchbox out of his pocket, and sent it to Bazarov by Piotr. + +'Will you have a cigar?' shouted Bazarov again. + +'Thanks,' answered Arkady. + +Piotr returned to the carriage, and handed him with the match-box a +thick black cigar, which Arkady began to smoke promptly, diffusing +about him such a strong and pungent odour of cheap tobacco, that +Nikolai Petrovitch, who had never been a smoker from his youth up, was +forced to turn away his head, as imperceptibly as he could for fear of +wounding his son. + +A quarter of an hour later, the two carriages drew up before the steps +of a new wooden house, painted grey, with a red iron roof. This was +Maryino, also known as New-Wick, or, as the peasants had nicknamed it, +Poverty Farm. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +No crowd of house-serfs ran out on to the steps to meet the gentlemen; +a little girl of twelve years old made her appearance alone. After her +there came out of the house a young lad, very like Piotr, dressed in a +coat of grey livery, with white armorial buttons, the servant of Pavel +Petrovitch Kirsanov. Without speaking, he opened the door of the +carriage, and unbuttoned the apron of the coach. Nikolai Petrovitch +with his son and Bazarov walked through a dark and almost empty hall, +from behind the door of which they caught a glimpse of a young woman's +face, into a drawing-room furnished in the most modern style. + +'Here we are at home,' said Nikolai Petrovitch, taking off his cap, and +shaking back his hair. 'That's the great thing; now we must have supper +and rest.' + +'A meal would not come amiss, certainly,' observed Bazarov, stretching, +and he dropped on to a sofa. + +'Yes, yes, let us have supper, supper directly.' Nikolai Petrovitch +with no apparent reason stamped his foot. 'And here just at the right +moment comes Prokofitch.' + +A man about sixty entered, white-haired, thin, and swarthy, in a +cinnamon-coloured dress-coat with brass buttons, and a pink +neckerchief. He smirked, went up to kiss Arkady's hand, and bowing to +the guest retreated to the door, and put his hands behind him. + +'Here he is, Prokofitch,' began Nikolai Petrovitch; 'he's come back to +us at last.... Well, how do you think him looking?' + +'As well as could be,' said the old man, and was grinning again, but he +quickly knitted his bushy brows. 'You wish supper to be served?' he +said impressively. + +'Yes, yes, please. But won't you like to go to your room first, Yevgeny +Vassilyitch?' + +'No, thanks; I don't care about it. Only give orders for my little box +to be taken there, and this garment, too,' he added, taking off his +frieze overcoat. + +'Certainly. Prokofitch, take the gentleman's coat.' (Prokofitch, with +an air of perplexity, picked up Bazarov's 'garment' in both hands, and +holding it high above his head, retreated on tiptoe.) 'And you, Arkady, +are you going to your room for a minute?' + +'Yes, I must wash,' answered Arkady, and was just moving towards the +door, but at that instant there came into the drawing-room a man of +medium height, dressed in a dark English suit, a fashionable low +cravat, and kid shoes, Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov. He looked about +forty-five: his close-cropped, grey hair shone with a dark lustre, like +new silver; his face, yellow but free from wrinkles, was exceptionally +regular and pure in line, as though carved by a light and delicate +chisel, and showed traces of remarkable beauty; specially fine were his +clear, black, almond-shaped eyes. The whole person of Arkady's uncle, +with its aristocratic elegance, had preserved the gracefulness of youth +and that air of striving upwards, away from earth, which for the most +part is lost after the twenties are past. + +Pavel Petrovitch took out of his trouser pocket his exquisite hand with +its long tapering pink nails, a hand which seemed still more exquisite +from the snowy whiteness of the cuff, buttoned with a single, big opal, +and gave it to his nephew. After a preliminary handshake in the +European style, he kissed him thrice after the Russian fashion, that is +to say, he touched his cheek three times with his perfumed moustaches, +and said, 'Welcome.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch presented him to Bazarov; Pavel Petrovitch greeted +him with a slight inclination of his supple figure, and a slight smile, +but he did not give him his hand, and even put it back into his pocket. + +'I had begun to think you were not coming to-day,' he began in a +musical voice, with a genial swing and shrug of the shoulders, as he +showed his splendid white teeth. 'Did anything happen on the road.' + +'Nothing happened,' answered Arkady; 'we were rather slow. But we're as +hungry as wolves now. Hurry up Prokofitch, dad; and I'll be back +directly.' + +'Stay, I'm coming with you,' cried Bazarov, pulling himself up suddenly +from the sofa. Both the young men went out. + +'Who is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'A friend of Arkasha's; according to him, a very clever fellow.' + +'Is he going to stay with us?' + +'Yes.' + +'That unkempt creature?' + +'Why, yes.' + +Pavel Petrovitch drummed with his finger tips on the table. 'I fancy +Arkady _s'est dégourdi_,' he remarked. 'I'm glad he has come back.' + +At supper there was little conversation. Bazarov especially said +nothing, but he ate a great deal. Nikolai Petrovitch related various +incidents in what he called his career as a farmer, talked about the +impending government measures, about committees, deputations, the +necessity of introducing machinery, etc. Pavel Petrovitch paced slowly +up and down the dining-room (he never ate supper), sometimes sipping at +a wineglass of red wine, and less often uttering some remark or rather +exclamation, of the nature of 'Ah! aha! hm!' Arkady told some news from +Petersburg, but he was conscious of a little awkwardness, that +awkwardness, which usually overtakes a youth when he has just ceased to +be a child, and has come back to a place where they are accustomed to +regard him and treat him as a child. He made his sentences quite +unnecessarily long, avoided the word 'daddy,' and even sometimes +replaced it by the word 'father,' mumbled, it is true, between his +teeth; with an exaggerated carelessness he poured into his glass far +more wine than he really wanted, and drank it all off. Prokofitch did +not take his eyes off him, and kept chewing his lips. After supper they +all separated at once. + +'Your uncle's a queer fish,' Bazarov said to Arkady, as he sat in his +dressing-gown by his bedside, smoking a short pipe. 'Only fancy such +style in the country! His nails, his nails--you ought to send them to +an exhibition!' + +'Why of course, you don't know,' replied Arkady. 'He was a great swell +in his own day, you know. I will tell you his story one day. He was +very handsome, you know, used to turn all the women's heads.' + +'Oh, that's it, is it? So he keeps it up in memory of the past. It's a +pity there's no one for him to fascinate here though. I kept staring at +his exquisite collars. They're like marble, and his chin's shaved +simply to perfection. Come, Arkady Nikolaitch, isn't that ridiculous?' + +'Perhaps it is; but he's a splendid man, really.' + +'An antique survival! But your father's a capital fellow. He wastes his +time reading poetry, and doesn't know much about farming, but he's a +good-hearted fellow.' + +'My father's a man in a thousand.' + +'Did you notice how shy and nervous he is?' + +Arkady shook his head as though he himself were not shy and nervous. + +'It's something astonishing,' pursued Bazarov, 'these old idealists, +they develop their nervous systems till they break down ... so balance +is lost. But good-night. In my room there's an English washstand, but +the door won't fasten. Anyway that ought to be encouraged--an English +washstand stands for progress!' + +Bazarov went away, and a sense of great happiness came over Arkady. +Sweet it is to fall asleep in one's own home, in the familiar bed, +under the quilt worked by loving hands, perhaps a dear nurse's hands, +those kind, tender, untiring hands. Arkady remembered Yegorovna, and +sighed and wished her peace in heaven.... For himself he made no +prayer. + +Both he and Bazarov were soon asleep, but others in the house were +awake long after. His son's return had agitated Nikolai Petrovitch. He +lay down in bed, but did not put out the candles, and his head propped +on his hand, he fell into long reveries. His brother was sitting long +after midnight in his study, in a wide armchair before the fireplace, +on which there smouldered some faintly glowing embers. Pavel Petrovitch +was not undressed, only some red Chinese slippers had replaced the kid +shoes on his feet. He held in his hand the last number of _Galignani_, +but he was not reading; he gazed fixedly into the grate, where a bluish +flame flickered, dying down, then flaring up again.... God knows where +his thoughts were rambling, but they were not rambling in the past +only; the expression of his face was concentrated and surly, which is +not the way when a man is absorbed solely in recollections. In a small +back room there sat, on a large chest, a young woman in a blue dressing +jacket with a white kerchief thrown over her dark hair, Fenitchka. She +was half listening, half dozing, and often looked across towards the +open door through which a child's cradle was visible, and the regular +breathing of a sleeping baby could be heard. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +The next morning Bazarov woke up earlier than any one and went out of +the house. 'Oh, my!' he thought, looking about him, 'the little place +isn't much to boast of!' When Nikolai Petrovitch had divided the land +with his peasants, he had had to build his new manor-house on four +acres of perfectly flat and barren land. He had built a house, offices, +and farm buildings, laid out a garden, dug a pond, and sunk two wells; +but the young trees had not done well, very little water had collected +in the pond, and that in the wells tasted brackish. Only one arbour of +lilac and acacia had grown fairly well; they sometimes had tea and +dinner in it. In a few minutes Bazarov had traversed all the little +paths of the garden; he went into the cattle-yard and the stable, +routed out two farm-boys, with whom he made friends at once, and set +off with them to a small swamp about a mile from the house to look for +frogs. + +'What do you want frogs for, sir?' one of the boys asked him. + +'I'll tell you what for,' answered Bazarov, who possessed the special +faculty of inspiring confidence in people of a lower class, though he +never tried to win them, and behaved very casually with them; 'I shall +cut the frog open, and see what's going on in his inside, and then, as +you and I are much the same as frogs, only that we walk on legs, I +shall know what's going on inside us too.' + +'And what do you want to know that for?' + +'So as not to make a mistake, if you're taken ill, and I have to cure +you.' + +'Are you a doctor then?' + +'Yes.' + +'Vaska, do you hear, the gentleman says you and I are the same as +frogs, that's funny!' + +'I'm afraid of frogs,' observed Vaska, a boy of seven, with a head as +white as flax, and bare feet, dressed in a grey smock with a stand-up +collar. + +'What is there to be afraid of? Do they bite?' + +'There, paddle into the water, philosophers,' said Bazarov. + +Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch too had waked up, and gone in to see +Arkady, whom he found dressed. The father and son went out on to the +terrace under the shelter of the awning; near the balustrade, on the +table, among great bunches of lilacs, the samovar was already boiling. +A little girl came up, the same who had been the first to meet them at +the steps on their arrival the evening before. In a shrill voice she +said-- + +'Fedosya Nikolaevna is not quite well, she cannot come; she gave orders +to ask you, will you please to pour out tea yourself, or should she +send Dunyasha?' + +'I will pour out myself, myself,' interposed Nikolai Petrovitch +hurriedly. 'Arkady, how do you take your tea, with cream, or with +lemon?' + +'With cream,' answered Arkady; and after a brief silence, he uttered +interrogatively, 'Daddy?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch in confusion looked at his son. + +'Well?' he said. + +Arkady dropped his eyes. + +'Forgive me, dad, if my question seems unsuitable to you,' he began, +'but you yourself, by your openness yesterday, encourage me to be open +... you will not be angry ...?' + +'Go on.' + +'You give me confidence to ask you.... Isn't the reason, Fen ... isn't +the reason she will not come here to pour out tea, because I'm here?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch turned slightly away. + +'Perhaps,' he said, at last, 'she supposes ... she is ashamed.' + +Arkady turned a rapid glance on his father. + +'She has no need to be ashamed. In the first place, you are aware of my +views' (it was very sweet to Arkady to utter that word); 'and secondly, +could I be willing to hamper your life, your habits in the least thing? +Besides, I am sure you could not make a bad choice; if you have allowed +her to live under the same roof with you, she must be worthy of it; in +any case, a son cannot judge his father,--least of all, I, and least of +all such a father who, like you, has never hampered my liberty in +anything.' + +Arkady's voice had been shaky at the beginning; he felt himself +magnanimous, though at the same time he realised he was delivering +something of the nature of a lecture to his father; but the sound of +one's own voice has a powerful effect on any man, and Arkady brought +out his last words resolutely, even with emphasis. + +'Thanks, Arkasha,' said Nikolai Petrovitch thickly, and his fingers +again strayed over his eyebrows and forehead. 'Your suppositions are +just in fact. Of course, if this girl had not deserved.... It is not a +frivolous caprice. It's not easy for me to talk to you about this; but +you will understand that it is difficult for her to come here, in your +presence, especially the first day of your return.' + +'In that case I will go to her,' cried Arkady, with a fresh rush of +magnanimous feeling, and he jumped up from his seat. 'I will explain to +her that she has no need to be ashamed before me.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch too got up. + +'Arkady,' he began, 'be so good ... how can ... there ... I have not +told you yet ...' + +But Arkady did not listen to him, and ran off the terrace. Nikolai +Petrovitch looked after him, and sank into his chair overcome by +confusion. His heart began to throb. Did he at that moment realise the +inevitable strangeness of the future relations between him and his son? +Was he conscious that Arkady would perhaps have shown him more respect +if he had never touched on this subject at all? Did he reproach himself +for weakness?--it is hard to say; all these feelings were within him, +but in the state of sensations--and vague sensations--while the flush +did not leave his face, and his heart throbbed. + +There was the sound of hurrying footsteps, and Arkady came on to the +terrace. 'We have made friends, dad!' he cried, with an expression of a +kind of affectionate and good-natured triumph on his face. 'Fedosya +Nikolaevna is not quite well to-day really, and she will come a little +later. But why didn't you tell me I had a brother? I should have kissed +him last night, as I have kissed him just now.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch tried to articulate something, tried to get up and +open his arms. Arkady flung himself on his neck. + +'What's this? embracing again?' sounded the voice of Pavel Petrovitch +behind them. + +Father and son were equally rejoiced at his appearance at that instant; +there are positions, genuinely affecting, from which one longs to +escape as soon as possible. + +'Why should you be surprised at that?' said Nikolai Petrovitch gaily. +'Think what ages I have been waiting for Arkasha. I've not had time to +get a good look at him since yesterday.' + +'I'm not at all surprised,' observed Pavel Petrovitch; 'I feel not +indisposed to be embracing him myself.' + +Arkady went up to his uncle, and again felt his cheeks caressed by his +perfumed moustache. Pavel Petrovitch sat down to the table. He wore an +elegant morning suit in the English style, and a gay little fez on his +head. This fez and the carelessly tied little cravat carried a +suggestion of the freedom of country life, but the stiff collars of his +shirt--not white, it is true, but striped, as is correct in morning +dress--stood up as inexorably as ever against his well-shaved chin. + +'Where's your new friend?' he asked Arkady. + +'He's not in the house; he usually gets up early and goes off +somewhere. The great thing is, we mustn't pay any attention to him; he +doesn't like ceremony.' + +'Yes, that's obvious.' Pavel Petrovitch began deliberately spreading +butter on his bread. 'Is he going to stay long with us?' + +'Perhaps. He came here on the way to his father's.' + +'And where does his father live?' + +'In our province, sixty-four miles from here. He has a small property +there. He was formerly an army doctor.' + +'Tut, tut, tut! To be sure, I kept asking myself, "Where have I heard +that name, Bazarov?" Nikolai, do you remember, in our father's division +there was a surgeon Bazarov?' + +'I believe there was.' + +'Yes, yes, to be sure. So that surgeon was his father. Hm!' Pavel +Petrovitch pulled his moustaches. 'Well, and what is Mr. Bazarov +himself?' he asked, deliberately. + +'What is Bazarov?' Arkady smiled. 'Would you like me, uncle, to tell +you what he really is?' + +'If you will be so good, nephew.' + +'He's a nihilist.' + +'Eh?' inquired Nikolai Petrovitch, while Pavel Petrovitch lilted a +knife in the air with a small piece of butter on its tip, and remained +motionless. + +'He's a nihilist,' repeated Arkady. + +'A nihilist,' said Nikolai Petrovitch. 'That's from the Latin, _nihil_, +_nothing_, as far as I can judge; the word must mean a man who ... who +accepts nothing?' + +'Say, "who respects nothing,"' put in Pavel Petrovitch, and he set to +work on the butter again. + +'Who regards everything from the critical point of view,' observed +Arkady. + +'Isn't that just the same thing?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch. + +'No, it's not the same thing. A nihilist is a man who does not bow down +before any authority, who does not take any principle on faith, +whatever reverence that principle may be enshrined in.' + +'Well, and is that good?' interrupted Pavel Petrovitch. + +'That depends, uncle. Some people it will do good to, but some people +will suffer for it.' + +'Indeed. Well, I see it's not in our line. We are old-fashioned people; +we imagine that without principles, taken as you say on faith, there's +no taking a step, no breathing. _Vous avez changé tout cela_. God give +you good health and the rank of a general, while we will be content to +look on and admire, worthy ... what was it?' + +'Nihilists,' Arkady said, speaking very distinctly. + +'Yes. There used to be Hegelists, and now there are nihilists. We shall +see how you will exist in void, in vacuum; and now ring, please, +brother Nikolai Petrovitch; it's time I had my cocoa.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch rang the bell and called, 'Dunyasha!' But instead of +Dunyasha, Fenitchka herself came on to the terrace. She was a young +woman about three-and-twenty, with a white soft skin, dark hair and +eyes, red, childishly-pouting lips, and little delicate hands. She wore +a neat print dress; a new blue kerchief lay lightly on her plump +shoulders. She carried a large cup of cocoa, and setting it down before +Pavel Petrovitch, she was overwhelmed with confusion: the hot blood +rushed in a wave of crimson over the delicate skin of her pretty face. +She dropped her eyes, and stood at the table, leaning a little on the +very tips of her fingers. It seemed as though she were ashamed of +having come in, and at the same time felt that she had a right to come. + +Pavel Petrovitch knitted his brows severely, while Nikolai Petrovitch +looked embarrassed. + +'Good morning, Fenitchka,' he muttered through his teeth. + +'Good morning,' she replied in a voice not loud but resonant, and with +a sidelong glance at Arkady, who gave her a friendly smile, she went +gently away. She walked with a slightly rolling gait, but even that +suited her. + +For some minutes silence reigned on the terrace. Pavel Petrovitch +sipped his cocoa; suddenly he raised his head. 'Here is Sir Nihilist +coming towards us,' he said in an undertone. + +Bazarov was in fact approaching through the garden, stepping over the +flower-beds. His linen coat and trousers were besmeared with mud; +clinging marsh weed was twined round the crown of his old round hat; in +his right hand he held a small bag; in the bag something alive was +moving. He quickly drew near the terrace, and said with a nod, 'Good +morning, gentlemen; sorry I was late for tea; I'll be back directly; I +must just put these captives away.' + +'What have you there--leeches?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'No, frogs.' + +'Do you eat them--or keep them?' + +'For experiment,' said Bazarov indifferently, and he went off into the +house. + +'So he's going to cut them up,' observed Pavel Petrovitch. 'He has no +faith in principles, but he has faith in frogs.' + +Arkady looked compassionately at his uncle; Nikolai Petrovitch shrugged +his shoulders stealthily. Pavel Petrovitch himself felt that his +epigram was unsuccessful, and began to talk about husbandry and the new +bailiff, who had come to him the evening before to complain that a +labourer, Foma, 'was deboshed,' and quite unmanageable. 'He's such an +Æsop,' he said among other things; 'in all places he has protested +himself a worthless fellow; he's not a man to keep his place; he'll +walk off in a huff like a fool.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Bazarov came back, sat down to the table, and began hastily drinking +tea. The two brothers looked at him in silence, while Arkady stealthily +watched first his father and then his uncle. + +'Did you walk far from here?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked at last. + +'Where you've a little swamp near the aspen wood. I started some +half-dozen snipe; you might slaughter them; Arkady.' + +'Aren't you a sportsman then?' + +'No.' + +'Is your special study physics?' Pavel Petrovitch in his turn inquired. + +'Physics, yes; and natural science in general.' + +'They say the Teutons of late have had great success in that line.' + +'Yes; the Germans are our teachers in it,' Bazarov answered carelessly. + +The word Teutons instead of Germans, Pavel Petrovitch had used with +ironical intention; none noticed it however. + +'Have you such a high opinion of the Germans?' said Pavel Petrovitch, +with exaggerated courtesy. He was beginning to feel a secret +irritation. His aristocratic nature was revolted by Bazarov's absolute +nonchalance. This surgeon's son was not only not overawed, he even gave +abrupt and indifferent answers, and in the tone of his voice there was +something churlish, almost insolent. + +'The scientific men there are a clever lot.' + +'Ah, ah. To be sure, of Russian scientific men you have not such a +flattering opinion, I dare say?' + +'That is very likely.' + +'That's very praiseworthy self-abnegation,' Pavel Petrovitch declared, +drawing himself up, and throwing his head back. 'But how is this? +Arkady Nikolaitch was telling us just now that you accept no +authorities? Don't you believe in _them_?' + +'And how am I accepting them? And what am I to believe in? They tell me +the truth, I agree, that's all.' + +'And do all Germans tell the truth?' said Pavel Petrovitch, and his +face assumed an expression as unsympathetic, as remote, as if he had +withdrawn to some cloudy height. + +'Not all,' replied Bazarov, with a short yawn. He obviously did not +care to continue the discussion. + +Pavel Petrovitch glanced at Arkady, as though he would say to him, +'Your friend's polite, I must say.' 'For my own part,' he began again, +not without some effort, 'I am so unregenerate as not to like Germans. +Russian Germans I am not speaking of now; we all know what sort of +creatures they are. But even German Germans are not to my liking. In +former days there were some here and there; they had--well, Schiller, +to be sure, Goethe ... my brother--he takes a particularly favourable +view of them.... But now they have all turned chemists and materialists +...' + +'A good chemist is twenty times as useful as any poet,' broke in +Bazarov. + +'Oh, indeed,' commented Pavel Petrovitch, and, as though falling +asleep, he faintly raised his eyebrows. 'You don't acknowledge art +then, I suppose?' + +'The art of making money or of advertising pills!' cried Bazarov, with +a contemptuous laugh. + +'Ah, ah. You are pleased to jest, I see. You reject all that, no doubt? +Granted. Then you believe in science only?' + +'I have already explained to you that I don't believe in anything; and +what is science--science in the abstract? There are sciences, as there +are trades and crafts; but abstract science doesn't exist at all.' + +'Very good. Well, and in regard to the other traditions accepted in +human conduct, do you maintain the same negative attitude?' + +'What's this, an examination?' asked Bazarov. + +Pavel Petrovitch turned slightly pale.... Nikolai Petrovitch thought it +his duty to interpose in the conversation. + +'We will converse on this subject with you more in detail some day, +dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch; we will hear your views, and express our own. +For my part, I am heartily glad you are studying the natural sciences. +I have heard that Liebig has made some wonderful discoveries in the +amelioration of soils. You can be of assistance to me in my +agricultural labours; you can give me some useful advice.' + +'I am at your service, Nikolai Petrovitch; but Liebig's miles over our +heads! One has first to learn the a b c, and then begin to read, and we +haven't set eyes on the alphabet yet.' + +'You are certainly a nihilist, I see that,' thought Nikolai Petrovitch. +'Still, you will allow me to apply to you on occasion,' he added aloud. +'And now I fancy, brother, it's time for us to be going to have a talk +with the bailiff.' + +Pavel Petrovitch got up from his seat. + +'Yes,' he said, without looking at any one; 'it's a misfortune to live +five years in the country like this, far from mighty intellects! You +turn into a fool directly. You may try not to forget what you've been +taught, but--in a snap!--they'll prove all that's rubbish, and tell you +that sensible men have nothing more to do with such foolishness, and +that you, if you please, are an antiquated old fogey. What's to be +done? Young people, of course, are cleverer than we are!' + +Pavel Petrovitch turned slowly on his heels, and slowly walked away; +Nikolai Petrovitch went after him. + +'Is he always like that?' Bazarov coolly inquired of Arkady directly +the door had closed behind the two brothers. + +'I must say, Yevgeny, you weren't nice to him,' remarked Arkady. 'You +have hurt his feelings.' + +'Well, am I going to consider them, these provincial aristocrats! Why, +it's all vanity, dandy habits, fatuity. He should have continued his +career in Petersburg, if that's his bent. But there, enough of him! +I've found a rather rare species of a water-beetle, _Dytiscus +marginatus_; do you know it? I will show you.' + +'I promised to tell you his story,' began Arkady. + +'The story of the beetle?' + +'Come, don't, Yevgeny. The story of my uncle. You will see he's not the +sort of man you fancy. He deserves pity rather than ridicule.' + +'I don't dispute it; but why are you worrying over him?' + +'One ought to be just, Yevgeny.' + +'How does that follow?' + +'No; listen ...' + +And Arkady told him his uncle's story. The reader will find it in the +following chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov was educated first at home, like his younger +brother, and afterwards in the Corps of Pages. From childhood he was +distinguished by remarkable beauty; moreover he was self-confident, +somewhat ironical, and had a rather biting humour; he could not fail to +please. He began to be seen everywhere, directly he had received his +commission as an officer. He was much admired in society, and he +indulged every whim, even every caprice and every folly, and gave +himself airs, but that too was attractive in him. Women went out of +their senses over him; men called him a coxcomb, and were secretly +jealous of him. He lived, as has been related already, in the same +apartments as his brother, whom he loved sincerely, though he was not +at all like him. Nikolai Petrovitch was a little lame, he had small, +pleasing features of a rather melancholy cast, small, black eyes, and +thin, soft hair; he liked being lazy, but he also liked reading, and +was timid in society. + +Pavel Petrovitch did not spend a single evening at home, prided himself +on his ease and audacity (he was just bringing gymnastics into fashion +among young men in society), and had read in all some five or six +French books. At twenty-eight he was already a captain; a brilliant +career awaited him. Suddenly everything was changed. + +At that time, there was sometimes seen in Petersburg society a woman +who has even yet not been forgotten. Princess R----. She had a +well-educated, well-bred, but rather stupid husband, and no children. +She used suddenly to go abroad, and suddenly return to Russia, and led +an eccentric life in general. She had the reputation of being a +frivolous coquette, abandoned herself eagerly to every sort of +pleasure, danced to exhaustion, laughed and jested with young men, whom +she received in the dim light of her drawing-room before dinner; while +at night she wept and prayed, found no peace in anything, and often +paced her room till morning, wringing her hands in anguish, or sat, +pale and chill, over a psalter. Day came, and she was transformed again +into a grand lady; again she went out, laughed, chattered, and simply +flung herself headlong into anything which could afford her the +slightest distraction. She was marvellously well-proportioned, her hair +coloured like gold and heavy as gold hung below her knees, but no one +would have called her a beauty; in her whole face the only good point +was her eyes, and even her eyes were not good--they were grey, and not +large--but their glance was swift and deep, unconcerned to the point of +audacity, and thoughtful to the point of melancholy--an enigmatic +glance. There was a light of something extraordinary in them, even +while her tongue was lisping the emptiest of inanities. She dressed +with elaborate care. Pavel Petrovitch met her at a ball, danced a +mazurka with her, in the course of which she did not utter a single +rational word, and fell passionately in love with her. Being accustomed +to make conquests, in this instance, too, he soon attained his object, +but his easy success did not damp his ardour. On the contrary, he was +in still more torturing, still closer bondage to this woman, in whom, +even at the very moment when she surrendered herself utterly, there +seemed always something still mysterious and unattainable, to which +none could penetrate. What was hidden in that soul--God knows! It +seemed as though she were in the power of mysterious forces, +incomprehensible even to herself; they seemed to play on her at will; +her intellect was not powerful enough to master their caprices. Her +whole behaviour presented a series of inconsistencies; the only letters +which could have awakened her husband's just suspicions, she wrote to a +man who was almost a stranger to her, whilst her love had always an +element of melancholy; with a man she had chosen as a lover, she ceased +to laugh and to jest, she listened to him, and gazed at him with a look +of bewilderment. Sometimes, for the most part suddenly, this +bewilderment passed into chill horror; her face took a wild, death-like +expression; she locked herself up in her bedroom, and her maid, putting +her ear to the keyhole, could hear her smothered sobs. More than once, +as he went home after a tender interview, Kirsanov felt within him that +heartrending, bitter vexation which follows on a total failure. + +'What more do I want?' he asked himself, while his heart was heavy. He +once gave her a ring with a sphinx engraved on the stone. + +'What's that?' she asked; 'a sphinx?' + +'Yes,' he answered, 'and that sphinx is you.' + +'I?' she queried, and slowly raising her enigmatical glance upon him. +'Do you know that's awfully flattering?' she added with a meaningless +smile, while her eyes still kept the same strange look. + +Pavel Petrovitch suffered even while Princess R---- loved him; but when +she grew cold to him, and that happened rather quickly, he almost went +out of his mind. He was on the rack, and he was jealous; he gave her no +peace, followed her about everywhere; she grew sick of his pursuit of +her, and she went abroad. He resigned his commission in spite of the +entreaties of his friends and the exhortations of his superiors, and +followed the princess; four years he spent in foreign countries, at one +time pursuing her, at another time intentionally losing sight of her. +He was ashamed of himself, he was disgusted with his own lack of spirit +... but nothing availed. Her image, that incomprehensible, almost +meaningless, but bewitching image, was deeply rooted in his heart. At +Baden he once more regained his old footing with her; it seemed as +though she had never loved him so passionately ... but in a month it +was all at an end: the flame flickered up for the last time and went +out for ever. Foreseeing inevitable separation, he wanted at least to +remain her friend, as though friendship with such a woman was +possible.... She secretly left Baden, and from that time steadily +avoided Kirsanov. He returned to Russia, and tried to live his former +life again; but he could not get back into the old groove. He wandered +from place to place like a man possessed; he still went into society; +he still retained the habits of a man of the world; he could boast of +two or three fresh conquests; but he no longer expected anything much +of himself or of others, and he undertook nothing. He grew old and +grey; spending all his evenings at the club, jaundiced and bored, and +arguing in bachelor society became a necessity for him--a bad sign, as +we all know. Marriage, of course, he did not even think of. Ten years +passed in this way; they passed by colourless and fruitless--and +quickly, fearfully quickly. Nowhere does time fly past as in Russia; in +prison they say it flies even faster. One day at dinner at the club, +Pavel Petrovitch heard of the death of the Princess R----. She had died +at Paris in a state bordering on insanity. + +He got up from the table, and a long time he paced about the rooms of +the club, or stood stockstill near the card-players, but he did not go +home earlier than usual. Some time later he received a packet addressed +to him; in it was the ring he had given the princess. She had drawn +lines in the shape of a cross over the sphinx and sent him word that +the solution of the enigma--was the cross. + +This happened at the beginning of the year 1848, at the very time when +Nikolai Petrovitch came to Petersburg, after the loss of his wife. +Pavel Petrovitch had scarcely seen his brother since the latter had +settled in the country; the marriage of Nikolai Petrovitch had +coincided with the very first days of Pavel Petrovitch's acquaintance +with the princess. When he came back from abroad, he had gone to him +with the intention of staying a couple of months with him, in +sympathetic enjoyment of his happiness, but he had only succeeded in +standing a week of it. The difference in the positions of the two +brothers was too great. In 1848, this difference had grown less; +Nikolai Petrovitch had lost his wife, Pavel Petrovitch had lost his +memories; after the death of the princess he tried not to think of her. +But to Nikolai, there remained the sense of a well-spent life, his son +was growing up under his eyes; Pavel, on the contrary, a solitary +bachelor, was entering upon that indefinite twilight period of regrets +that are akin to hopes, and hopes that are akin to regrets, when youth +is over, while old age has not yet come. + +This time was harder for Pavel Petrovitch than for another man; in +losing his past, he lost everything. + +'I will not invite you to Maryino now,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to him +one day, (he had called his property by that name in honour of his +wife); 'you were dull there in my dear wife's time, and now I think you +would be bored to death.' + +'I was stupid and fidgety then,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'since then +I have grown quieter, if not wiser. On the contrary, now, if you will +let me, I am ready to settle with you for good.' + +For all answer Nikolai Petrovitch embraced him; but a year and a half +passed after this conversation, before Pavel Petrovitch made up his +mind to carry out his intention. When he was once settled in the +country, however, he did not leave it, even during the three winters +which Nikolai Petrovitch spent in Petersburg with his son. He began to +read, chiefly English; he arranged his whole life, roughly speaking, in +the English style, rarely saw the neighbours, and only went out to the +election of marshals, where he was generally silent, only occasionally +annoying and alarming land-owners of the old school by his liberal +sallies, and not associating with the representatives of the younger +generation. Both the latter and the former considered him 'stuck up'; +and both parties respected him for his fine aristocratic manners; for +his reputation for successes in love; for the fact that he was very +well dressed and always stayed in the best room in the best hotel; for +the fact that he generally dined well, and had once even dined with +Wellington at Louis Philippe's table; for the fact that he always took +everywhere with him a real silver dressing-case and a portable bath; +for the fact that he always smelt of some exceptionally 'good form' +scent; for the fact that he played whist in masterly fashion, and +always lost; and lastly, they respected him also for his incorruptible +honesty. Ladies considered him enchantingly romantic, but he did not +cultivate ladies' acquaintance.... + +'So you see, Yevgeny,' observed Arkady, as he finished his story, 'how +unjustly you judge of my uncle! To say nothing of his having more than +once helped my father out of difficulties, given him all his money--the +property, perhaps you don't know, wasn't divided--he's glad to help any +one, among other things he always sticks up for the peasants; it's +true, when he talks to them he frowns and sniffs eau de cologne.' ... + +'His nerves, no doubt,' put in Bazarov. + +'Perhaps; but his heart is very good. And he's far from being stupid. +What useful advice he has given me especially ... especially in regard +to relations with women.' + +'Aha! a scalded dog fears cold water, we know that!' + +'In short,' continued Arkady, 'he's profoundly unhappy, believe me; +it's a sin to despise him.' + +'And who does despise him?' retorted Bazarov. 'Still, I must say that a +fellow who stakes his whole life on one card--a woman's love--and when +that card fails, turns sour, and lets himself go till he's fit for +nothing, is not a man, but a male. You say he's unhappy; you ought to +know best; to be sure, he's not got rid of all his fads. I'm convinced +that he solemnly imagines himself a superior creature because he reads +that wretched _Galignani_, and once a month saves a peasant from a +flogging.' + +'But remember his education, the age in which he grew up,' observed +Arkady. + +'Education?' broke in Bazarov. 'Every man must educate himself, just as +I've done, for instance.... And as for the age, why should I depend on +it? Let it rather depend on me. No, my dear fellow, that's all +shallowness, want of backbone! And what stuff it all is, about these +mysterious relations between a man and woman? We physiologists know +what these relations are. You study the anatomy of the eye; where does +the enigmatical glance you talk about come in there? That's all +romantic, nonsensical, æsthetic rot. We had much better go and look at +the beetle.' + +And the two friends went off to Bazarov's room, which was already +pervaded by a sort of medico-surgical odour, mingled with the smell of +cheap tobacco. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Pavel Petrovitch did not long remain present at his brother's interview +with his bailiff, a tall, thin man with a sweet consumptive voice and +knavish eyes, who to all Nikolai Petrovitch's remarks answered, +'Certainly, sir,' and tried to make the peasants out to be thieves and +drunkards. The estate had only recently been put on to the new reformed +system, and the new mechanism worked, creaking like an ungreased wheel, +warping and cracking like homemade furniture of unseasoned wood. +Nikolai Petrovitch did not lose heart, but often he sighed, and was +gloomy; he felt that the thing could not go on without money, and his +money was almost all spent. Arkady had spoken the truth; Pavel +Petrovitch had more than once helped his brother; more than once, +seeing him struggling and cudgelling his brains, at a loss which way to +turn, Pavel Petrovitch moved deliberately to the window, and with his +hands thrust into his pockets, muttered between his teeth, '_mais je +puis vous de l'argent_,' and gave him money; but to-day he had none +himself, and he preferred to go away. The petty details of agricultural +management worried him; besides, it constantly struck him that Nikolai +Petrovitch, for all his zeal and industry, did not set about things in +the right way, though he would not have been able to point out +precisely where Nikolai Petrovitch's mistake lay. 'My brother's not +practical enough,' he reasoned to himself; 'they impose upon him.' +Nikolai Petrovitch, on the other hand, had the highest opinion of Pavel +Petrovitch's practical ability, and always asked his advice. 'I'm a +soft, weak fellow, I've spent my life in the wilds,' he used to say; +'while you haven't seen so much of the world for nothing, you see +through people; you have an eagle eye.' In answer to which Pavel +Petrovitch only turned away, but did not contradict his brother. + +Leaving Nikolai Petrovitch in his study, he walked along the corridor, +which separated the front part of the house from the back; when he had +reached a low door, he stopped in hesitation, then pulling his +moustaches, he knocked at it. + +'Who's there? Come in,' sounded Fenitchka's voice. + +'It's I,' said Pavel Petrovitch, and he opened the door. + +Fenitchka jumped up from the chair on which she was sitting with her +baby, and giving him into the arms of a girl, who at once carried him +out of the room, she put straight her kerchief hastily. + +'Pardon me, if I disturb you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, not looking at +her; 'I only wanted to ask you ... they are sending into the town +to-day, I think ... please let them buy me some green tea.' + +'Certainly,' answered Fenitchka; 'how much do you desire them to buy?' + +'Oh, half a pound will be enough, I imagine. You have made a change +here, I see,' he added, with a rapid glance round him, which glided +over Fenitchka's face too. 'The curtains here,' he explained, seeing +she did not understand him. + +'Oh, yes, the curtains; Nikolai Petrovitch was so good as to make me a +present of them; but they have been put up a long while now.' + +'Yes, and it's a long while since I have been to see you. Now it is +very nice here.' + +'Thanks to Nikolai Petrovitch's kindness,' murmured Fenitchka. + +'You are more comfortable here than in the little lodge you used to +have?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch urbanely, but without the slightest +smile. + +'Certainly, it's more comfortable.' + +'Who has been put in your place now?' + +'The laundry-maids are there now.' + +'Ah!' + +Pavel Petrovitch was silent. 'Now he is going,' thought Fenitchka; but +he did not go, and she stood before him motionless. + +'What did you send your little one away for?' said Pavel Petrovitch at +last. 'I love children; let me see him.' + +Fenitchka blushed all over with confusion and delight. She was afraid +of Pavel Petrovitch; he had scarcely ever spoken to her. + +'Dunyasha,' she called; 'will you bring Mitya, please.' (Fenitchka did +not treat any one in the house familiarly.) 'But wait a minute, he must +have a frock on,' Fenitchka was going towards the door. + +'That doesn't matter,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'I will be back directly,' answered Fenitchka, and she went out +quickly. + +Pavel Petrovitch was left alone, and he looked round this time with +special attention. The small low-pitched room in which he found himself +was very clean and snug. It smelt of the freshly painted floor and of +camomile. Along the walls stood chairs with lyre-shaped backs, bought +by the late general on his campaign in Poland; in one corner was a +little bedstead under a muslin canopy beside an iron-clamped chest with +a convex lid. In the opposite corner a little lamp was burning before a +big dark picture of St. Nikolai the wonder-worker; a tiny porcelain egg +hung by a red ribbon from the protruding gold halo down to the saint's +breast; by the windows greenish glass jars of last year's jam carefully +tied down could be seen; on their paper covers Fenitchka herself had +written in big letters 'Gooseberry'; Nikolai Petrovitch was +particularly fond of that preserve. On a long cord from the ceiling a +cage hung with a short-tailed siskin in it; he was constantly chirping +and hopping about, the cage was constantly shaking and swinging, while +hempseeds fell with a light tap on to the floor. On the wall just above +a small chest of drawers hung some rather bad photographs of Nikolai +Petrovitch in various attitudes, taken by an itinerant photographer; +there too hung a photograph of Fenitchka herself, which was an absolute +failure; it was an eyeless face wearing a forced smile, in a dingy +frame, nothing more could be made out; while above Fenitchka, General +Yermolov, in a Circassian cloak, scowled menacingly upon the Caucasian +mountains in the distance, from beneath a little silk shoe for pins +which fell right on to his brows. + +Five minutes passed; bustling and whispering could be heard in the next +room. Pavel Petrovitch took up from the chest of drawers a greasy book, +an odd volume of Masalsky's _Musketeer_, and turned over a few +pages.... The door opened, and Fenitchka came in with Mitya in her +arms. She had put on him a little red smock with embroidery on the +collar, had combed his hair and washed his face; he was breathing +heavily, his whole body working, and his little hands waving in the +air, as is the way with all healthy babies; but his smart smock +obviously impressed him, an expression of delight was reflected in +every part of his little fat person. Fenitchka had put her own hair too +in order, and had arranged her kerchief; but she might well have +remained as she was. And really is there anything in the world more +captivating than a beautiful young mother with a healthy baby in her +arms? + +'What a chubby fellow!' said Pavel Petrovitch graciously, and he +tickled Mitya's little double chin with the tapering nail of his +forefinger. The baby stared at the siskin, and chuckled. + +'That's uncle,' said Fenitchka, bending her face down to him and +slightly rocking him, while Dunyasha quietly set in the window a +smouldering perfumed stick, putting a halfpenny under it. + +'How many months old is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Six months; it will soon be seven, on the eleventh.' + +'Isn't it eight, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' put in Dunyasha, with some +timidity. + +'No, seven; what an idea!' The baby chuckled again, stared at the +chest, and suddenly caught hold of his mother's nose and mouth with all +his five little fingers. 'Saucy mite,' said Fenitchka, not drawing her +face away. + +'He's like my brother,' observed Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Who else should he be like?' thought Fenitchka. + +'Yes,' continued Pavel Petrovitch, as though speaking to himself; +'there's an unmistakable likeness.' He looked attentively, almost +mournfully, at Fenitchka. + +'That's uncle,' she repeated, in a whisper this time. + +'Ah! Pavel! so you're here!' was heard suddenly the voice of Nikolai +Petrovitch. + +Pavel Petrovitch turned hurriedly round, frowning; but his brother +looked at him with such delight, such gratitude, that he could not help +responding to his smile. + +'You've a splendid little cherub,' he said, and looking at his watch, +'I came in here to speak about some tea.' + +And, assuming an expression of indifference, Pavel Petrovitch at once +went out of the room. + +'Did he come of himself?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked Fenitchka. + +'Yes; he knocked and came in.' + +'Well, and has Arkasha been in to see you again?' + +'No. Hadn't I better move into the lodge, Nikolai Petrovitch?' + +'Why so?' + +'I wonder whether it wouldn't be best just for the first.' + +'N ... no,' Nikolai Petrovitch brought out hesitatingly, rubbing his +forehead. 'We ought to have done it before.... How are you, fatty?' he +said, suddenly brightening, and going up to the baby, he kissed him on +the cheek; then he bent a little and pressed his lips to Fenitchka's +hand, which lay white as milk upon Mitya's little red smock. + +'Nikolai Petrovitch! what are you doing?' she whispered, dropping her +eyes, then slowly raising them. Very charming was the expression of her +eyes when she peeped, as it were, from under her lids, and smiled +tenderly and a little foolishly. + +Nikolai Petrovitch had made Fenitchka's acquaintance in the following +manner. He had once happened three years before to stay a night at an +inn in a remote district town. He was agreeably struck by the cleanness +of the room assigned to him, the freshness of the bed-linen. Surely the +woman of the house must be a German? was the idea that occurred to him; +but she proved to be a Russian, a woman of about fifty, neatly dressed, +of a good-looking, sensible countenance and discreet speech. He entered +into conversation with her at tea; he liked her very much. Nikolai +Petrovitch had at that time only just moved into his new home, and not +wishing to keep serfs in the house, he was on the look-out for +wage-servants; the woman of the inn on her side complained of the small +number of visitors to the town, and the hard times; he proposed to her +to come into his house in the capacity of housekeeper; she consented. +Her husband had long been dead, leaving her an only daughter, +Fenitchka. Within a fortnight Arina Savishna (that was the new +housekeeper's name) arrived with her daughter at Maryino and installed +herself in the little lodge. Nikolai Petrovitch's choice proved a +successful one. Arina brought order into the household. As for +Fenitchka, who was at that time seventeen, no one spoke of her, and +scarcely any one saw her; she lived quietly and sedately, and only on +Sundays Nikolai Petrovitch noticed in the church somewhere in a side +place the delicate profile of her white face. More than a year passed +thus. + +One morning, Arina came into his study, and bowing low as usual, she +asked him if he could do anything for her daughter, who had got a spark +from the stove in her eye. Nikolai Petrovitch, like all stay-at-home +people, had studied doctoring and even compiled a homoeopathic guide. +He at once told Arina to bring the patient to him. Fenitchka was much +frightened when she heard the master had sent for her; however, she +followed her mother. Nikolai Petrovitch led her to the window and took +her head in his two hands. After thoroughly examining her red and +swollen eye, he prescribed a fomentation, which he made up himself at +once, and tearing his handkerchief in pieces, he showed her how it +ought to be applied. Fenitchka listened to all he had to say, and then +was going. 'Kiss the master's hand, silly girl,' said Arina. Nikolai +Petrovitch did not give her his hand, and in confusion himself kissed +her bent head on the parting of her hair. Fenitchka's eye was soon well +again, but the impression she had made on Nikolai Petrovitch did not +pass away so quickly. He was for ever haunted by that pure, delicate, +timidly raised face; he felt on the palms of his hands that soft hair, +and saw those innocent, slightly parted lips, through which pearly +teeth gleamed with moist brilliance in the sunshine. He began to watch +her with great attention in church, and tried to get into conversation +with her. At first she was shy of him, and one day meeting him at the +approach of evening in a narrow footpath through a field of rye, she +ran into the tall thick rye, overgrown with cornflowers and wormwood, +so as not to meet him face to face. He caught sight of her little head +through a golden network of ears of rye, from which she was peeping out +like a little animal, and called affectionately to her-- + +'Good-evening, Fenitchka! I don't bite.' + +'Good-evening,' she whispered, not coming out of her ambush. + +By degrees she began to be more at home with him, but was still shy in +his presence, when suddenly her mother, Arina, died of cholera. What +was to become of Fenitchka? She inherited from her mother a love for +order, regularity, and respectability; but she was so young, so alone. +Nikolai Petrovitch was himself so good and considerate.... It's +needless to relate the rest.... + +'So my brother came in to see you?' Nikolai Petrovitch questioned her. +'He knocked and came in?' + +'Yes.' + +'Well, that's a good thing. Let me give Mitya a swing.' + +And Nikolai Petrovitch began tossing him almost up to the ceiling, to +the huge delight of the baby, and to the considerable uneasiness of the +mother, who every time he flew up stretched her arms up towards his +little bare legs. + +Pavel Petrovitch went back to his artistic study, with its walls +covered with handsome bluish-grey hangings, with weapons hanging upon a +variegated Persian rug nailed to the wall; with walnut furniture, +upholstered in dark green velveteen, with a _renaissance_ bookcase of +old black oak, with bronze statuettes on the magnificent writing-table, +with an open hearth. He threw himself on the sofa, clasped his hands +behind his head, and remained without moving, looking with a face +almost of despair at the ceiling. Whether he wanted to hide from the +very walls that which was reflected in his face, or for some other +reason, he got up, drew the heavy window curtains, and again threw +himself on the sofa. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +On the same day Bazarov made acquaintance with Fenitchka. He was +walking with Arkady in the garden, and explaining to him why some of +the trees, especially the oaks, had not done well. + +'You ought to have planted silver poplars here by preference, and +spruce firs, and perhaps limes, giving them some loam. The arbour there +has done well,' he added, 'because it's acacia and lilac; they're +accommodating good fellows, those trees, they don't want much care. But +there's some one in here.' + +In the arbour was sitting Fenitchka, with Dunyasha and Mitya. Bazarov +stood still, while Arkady nodded to Fenitchka like an old friend. + +'Who's that?' Bazarov asked him directly they had passed by. 'What a +pretty girl!' + +'Whom are you speaking of?' + +'You know; only one of them was pretty.' + +Arkady, not without embarrassment, explained to him briefly who +Fenitchka was. + +'Aha!' commented Bazarov; 'your father's got good taste, one can see. I +like him, your father, ay, ay! He's a jolly fellow. We must make +friends though,' he added, and turned back towards the arbour. + +'Yevgeny!' Arkady cried after him in dismay; 'mind what you are about, +for mercy's sake.' + +'Don't worry yourself,' said Bazarov; 'I know how to behave myself--I'm +not a booby.' + +Going up to Fenitchka, he took off his cap. + +'Allow me to introduce myself,' he began, with a polite bow. 'I'm a +harmless person, and a friend of Arkady Nikolaevitch's.' + +Fenitchka got up from the garden seat and looked at him without +speaking. + +'What a splendid baby!' continued Bazarov; 'don't be uneasy, my praises +have never brought ill-luck yet. Why is it his cheeks are so flushed? +Is he cutting his teeth?' + +'Yes,' said Fenitchka; 'he has cut four teeth already, and now the gums +are swollen again.' + +'Show me, and don't be afraid, I'm a doctor.' + +Bazarov took the baby up in his arms, and to the great astonishment +both of Fenitchka and Dunyasha the child made no resistance, and was +not frightened. + +'I see, I see.... It's nothing, everything's as it should be; he will +have a good set of teeth. If anything goes wrong, tell me. And are you +quite well yourself?' + +'Quite, thank God.' + +'Thank God, indeed--that's the great thing. And you?' he added, turning +to Dunyasha. + +Dunyasha, a girl very prim in the master's house, and a romp outside +the gates, only giggled in answer. + +'Well, that's all right. Here's your gallant fellow.' + +Fenitchka received the baby in her arms. + +'How good he was with you!' she commented in an undertone. + +'Children are always good with me.' answered Bazarov; 'I have a way +with them.' + +'Children know who loves them,' remarked Dunyasha. + +'Yes, they certainly do,' Fenitchka said. 'Why, Mitya will not go to +some people for anything.' + +'Will he come to me?' asked Arkady, who, after standing in the distance +for some time, had gone up to the arbour. + +He tried to entice Mitya to come to him, but Mitya threw his head back +and screamed, to Fenitchka's great confusion. + +'Another day, when he's had time to get used to me,' said Arkady +indulgently, and the two friends walked away. + +'What's her name?' asked Bazarov. + +'Fenitchka ... Fedosya,' answered Arkady. + +'And her father's name? One must know that too.' + +'Nikolaevna.' + +'_Bene_. What I like in her is that she's not too embarrassed. Some +people, I suppose, would think ill of her for it. What nonsense! What +is there to embarrass her? She's a mother--she's all right.' + +'She's all right,' observed Arkady,--'but my father.' + +'And he's right too,' put in Bazarov. + +'Well, no, I don't think so.' + +'I suppose an extra heir's not to your liking?' + +'I wonder you're not ashamed to attribute such ideas to me!' retorted +Arkady hotly; 'I don't consider my father wrong from that point of +view; I think he ought to marry her.' + +'Hoity-toity!' responded Bazarov tranquilly. 'What magnanimous fellows +we are! You still attach significance to marriage; I did not expect +that of you.' + +The friends walked a few paces in silence. + +'I have looked at all your father's establishment,' Bazarov began +again. 'The cattle are inferior, the horses are broken down; the +buildings aren't up to much, and the workmen look confirmed loafers; +while the superintendent is either a fool, or a knave, I haven't quite +found out which yet.' + +'You are rather hard on everything to-day, Yevgeny Vassilyevitch.' + +'And the dear good peasants are taking your father in to a dead +certainty. You know the Russian proverb, "The Russian peasant will +cheat God Himself."' + +'I begin to agree with my uncle,' remarked Arkady; 'you certainly have +a poor opinion of Russians.' + +'As though that mattered! The only good point in a Russian is his +having the lowest possible opinion of himself. What does matter is that +two and two make four, and the rest is all foolery.' + +'And is nature foolery?' said Arkady, looking pensively at the +bright-coloured fields in the distance, in the beautiful soft light of +the sun, which was not yet high up in the sky. + +'Nature, too, is foolery in the sense you understand it. Nature's not a +temple, but a workshop, and man's the workman in it.' + +At that instant, the long drawn notes of a violoncello floated out to +them from the house. Some one was playing Schubert's _Expectation_ with +much feeling, though with an untrained hand, and the melody flowed with +honey sweetness through the air. + +'What's that?' cried Bazarov in amazement. + +'It's my father.' + +'Your father plays the violoncello?' + +'Yes.' + +'And how old is your father?' + +'Forty-four.' + +Bazarov suddenly burst into a roar of laughter. + +'What are you laughing at?' + +'Upon my word, a man of forty-four, a _paterfamilias_ in this +out-of-the-way district, playing on the violoncello!' + +Bazarov went on laughing; but much as he revered his master, this time +Arkady did not even smile. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +About a fortnight passed by. Life at Maryino went on its accustomed +course, while Arkady was lazy and enjoyed himself, and Bazarov worked. +Every one in the house had grown used to him, to his careless manners, +and his curt and abrupt speeches. Fenitchka, in particular, was so far +at home with him that one night she sent to wake him up; Mitya had had +convulsions; and he had gone, and, half joking, half-yawning as usual, +he stayed two hours with her and relieved the child. On the other hand +Pavel Petrovitch had grown to detest Bazarov with all the strength of +his soul; he regarded him as stuck-up, impudent, cynical, and vulgar; +he suspected that Bazarov had no respect for him, that he had all but a +contempt for him--him, Pavel Kirsanov! + +Nikolai Petrovitch was rather afraid of the young 'nihilist,' and was +doubtful whether his influence over Arkady was for the good; but he was +glad to listen to him, and was glad to be present at his scientific and +chemical experiments. Bazarov had brought with him a microscope, and +busied himself for hours together with it. The servants, too, took to +him, though he made fun of them; they felt, all the same, that he was +one of themselves, not a master. Dunyasha was always ready to giggle +with him, and used to cast significant and stealthy glances at him when +she skipped by like a rabbit; Piotr, a man vain and stupid to the last +degree, for ever wearing an affected frown on his brow, a man whose +whole merit consisted in the fact that he looked civil, could spell out +a page of reading, and was diligent in brushing his coat--even he +smirked and brightened up directly Bazarov paid him any attention; the +boys on the farm simply ran after the 'doctor' like puppies. The old +man Prokofitch was the only one who did not like him; he handed him the +dishes at table with a surly face, called him a 'butcher' and 'an +upstart,' and declared that with his great whiskers he looked like a +pig in a stye. Prokofitch in his own way was quite as much of an +aristocrat as Pavel Petrovitch. + +The best days of the year had come--the first days of June. The weather +kept splendidly fine; in the distance, it is true, the cholera was +threatening, but the inhabitants of that province had had time to get +used to its visits. Bazarov used to get up very early and go out for +two or three miles, not for a walk--he couldn't bear walking without an +object--but to collect specimens of plants and insects. Sometimes he +took Arkady with him. + +On the way home an argument usually sprang up, and Arkady was usually +vanquished in it, though he said more than his companion. + +One day they had lingered rather late; Nikolai Petrovitch went to meet +them in the garden, and as he reached the arbour he suddenly heard the +quick steps and voices of the two young men. They were walking on the +other side of the arbour, and could not see him. + +'You don't know my father well enough,' said Arkady. + +'Your father's a nice chap,' said Bazarov, 'but he's behind the times; +his day is done.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch listened intently.... Arkady made no answer. + +The man whose day was done remained two minutes motionless, and stole +slowly home. + +'The day before yesterday I saw him reading Pushkin,' Bazarov was +continuing meanwhile. 'Explain to him, please, that that's no earthly +use. He's not a boy, you know; it's time to throw up that rubbish. And +what an idea to be a romantic at this time of day! Give him something +sensible to read.' + +'What ought I to give him?' asked Arkady. + +'Oh, I think Büchner's _Stoff und Kraft_ to begin with.' + +'I think so too,' observed Arkady approving, '_Stoff und Kraft_ is +written in popular language....' + +'So it seems,' Nikolai Petrovitch said the same day after dinner to his +brother, as he sat in his study, 'you and I are behind the times, our +day's over. Well, well. Perhaps Bazarov is right; but one thing I +confess, makes me feel sore; I did so hope, precisely now, to get on to +such close intimate terms with Arkady, and it turns out I'm left +behind, and he has gone forward, and we can't understand one another.' + +'How has he gone forward? And in what way is he so superior to us +already?' cried Pavel Petrovitch impatiently. 'It's that high and +mighty gentleman, that nihilist, who's knocked all that into his head. +I hate that doctor fellow; in my opinion, he's simply a quack; I'm +convinced, for all his tadpoles, he's not got very far even in +medicine.' + +'No, brother, you mustn't say that; Bazarov is clever, and knows his +subject.' + +'And his conceit's something revolting,' Pavel Petrovitch broke in +again. + +'Yes,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'he is conceited. But there's no +doing without that, it seems; only that's what I did not take into +account. I thought I was doing everything to keep up with the times; I +have started a model farm; I have done well by the peasants, so that I +am positively called a "Red Radical" all over the province; I read, I +study, I try in every way to keep abreast with the requirements of the +day--and they say my day's over. And, brother, I begin to think that it +is.' + +'Why so?' + +'I'll tell you why. This morning I was sitting reading Pushkin.... I +remember, it happened to be _The Gipsies_ ... all of a sudden Arkady +came up to me, and, without speaking, with such a kindly compassion on +his face, as gently as if I were a baby, took the book away from me, +and laid another before me--a German book ... smiled, and went away, +carrying Pushkin off with him.' + +'Upon my word! What book did he give you?' + +'This one here.' + +And Nikolai Petrovitch pulled the famous treatise of Büchner, in the +ninth edition, out of his coat-tail pocket. + +Pavel Petrovitch turned it over in his hands. 'Hm!' he growled. 'Arkady +Nikolaevitch is taking your education in hand. Well, did you try +reading it?' + +'Yes, I tried it.' + +'Well, what did you think of it?' + +'Either I'm stupid, or it's all--nonsense. I must be stupid, I +suppose.' + +'Haven't you forgotten your German?' queried Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Oh, I understand the German.' + +Pavel Petrovitch again turned the book over in his hands, and glanced +from under his brows at his brother. Both were silent. + +'Oh, by the way,' began Nikolai Petrovitch, obviously wishing to change +the subject, 'I've got a letter from Kolyazin.' + +'Matvy Ilyitch?' + +'Yes. He has come to----to inspect the province. He's quite a bigwig +now; and writes to me that, as a relation, he should like to see us +again, and invites you and me and Arkady to the town.' + +'Are you going?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'No; are you?' + +'No, I shan't go either. Much object there would be in dragging oneself +over forty miles on a wild-goose chase. _Mathieu_ wants to show himself +in all his glory. Damn him! he will have the whole province doing him +homage; he can get on without the likes of us. A grand dignity, indeed, +a privy councillor! If I had stayed in the service, if I had drudged on +in official harness, I should have been a general-adjutant by now. +Besides, you and I are behind the times, you know.' + +'Yes, brother; it's time, it seems, to order a coffin and cross one's +arms on ones breast,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch, with a sigh. + +'Well, I'm not going to give in quite so soon,' muttered his brother. +'I've got a tussle with that doctor fellow before me, I feel sure of +that.' + +A tussle came off that same day at evening tea. Pavel Petrovitch came +into the drawing-room, all ready for the fray, irritable and +determined. He was only waiting for an excuse to fall upon the enemy; +but for a long while an excuse did not present itself. As a rule, +Bazarov said little in the presence of the 'old Kirsanovs' (that was +how he spoke of the brothers), and that evening he felt out of humour, +and drank off cup after cup of tea without a word. Pavel Petrovitch was +all aflame with impatience; his wishes were fulfilled at last. + +The conversation turned on one of the neighbouring landowners. 'Rotten +aristocratic snob,' observed Bazarov indifferently. He had met him in +Petersburg. + +'Allow me to ask you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, and his lips were +trembling, 'according to your ideas, have the words "rotten" and +"aristocrat" the same meaning?' + +'I said "aristocratic snob,"' replied Bazarov, lazily swallowing a sip +of tea. + +'Precisely so; but I imagine you have the same opinion of aristocrats +as of aristocratic snobs. I think it my duty to inform you that I do +not share that opinion. I venture to assert that every one knows me for +a man of liberal ideas and devoted to progress; but, exactly for that +reason, I respect aristocrats--real aristocrats. Kindly remember, sir' +(at these words Bazarov lifted his eyes and looked at Pavel +Petrovitch), 'kindly remember, sir,' he repeated, with acrimony--'the +English aristocracy. They do not abate one iota of their rights, and +for that reason they respect the rights of others; they demand the +performance of what is due to them, and for that reason they perform +their own duties. The aristocracy has given freedom to England, and +maintains it for her.' + +'We've heard that story a good many times,' replied Bazarov; 'but what +are you trying to prove by that?' + +'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir' (when Pavel Petrovitch was angry he +intentionally clipped his words in this way, though, of course, he knew +very well that such forms are not strictly grammatical. In this +fashionable whim could be discerned a survival of the habits of the +times of Alexander. The exquisites of those days, on the rare occasions +when they spoke their own language, made use of such slipshod forms; as +much as to say, 'We, of course, are born Russians, at the same time we +are great swells, who are at liberty to neglect the rules of +scholars'); 'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir, that without the sense +of personal dignity, without self-respect--and these two sentiments are +well developed in the aristocrat--there is no secure foundation for the +social ... _bien public_ ... the social fabric. Personal character, +sir--that is the chief thing; a man's personal character must be firm +as a rock, since everything is built on it. I am very well aware, for +instance, that you are pleased to consider my habits, my dress, my +refinements, in fact, ridiculous; but all that proceeds from a sense of +self-respect, from a sense of duty--yes, indeed, of duty. I live in the +country, in the wilds, but I will not lower myself. I respect the +dignity of man in myself.' + +'Let me ask you, Pavel Petrovitch,' commented Bazarov; 'you respect +yourself, and sit with your hands folded; what sort of benefit does +that do to the _bien public_? If you didn't respect yourself, you'd do +just the same.' + +Pavel Petrovitch turned white. 'That's a different question. It's +absolutely unnecessary for me to explain to you now why I sit with +folded hands, as you are pleased to express yourself. I wish only to +tell you that aristocracy is a principle, and in our days none but +immoral or silly people can live without principles. I said that to +Arkady the day after he came home, and I repeat it now. Isn't it so, +Nikolai?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch nodded his head. + +'Aristocracy, Liberalism, progress, principles,' Bazarov was saying +meanwhile; 'if you think of it, what a lot of foreign ... and useless +words! To a Russian they're good for nothing.' + +'What is good for something according to you? If we listen to you, we +shall find ourselves outside humanity, outside its laws. Come--the +logic of history demands ...' + +'But what's that logic to us? We can get on without that too.' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why, this. You don't need logic, I hope, to put a bit of bread in your +mouth when you're hungry. What's the object of these abstractions to +us?' + +Pavel Petrovitch raised his hands in horror. + +'I don't understand you, after that. You insult the Russian people. I +don't understand how it's possible not to acknowledge principles, +rules! By virtue of what do you act then?' + +'I've told you already, uncle, that we don't accept any authorities,' +put in Arkady. + +'We act by virtue of what we recognise as beneficial,' observed +Bazarov. 'At the present time, negation is the most beneficial of +all--and we deny----' + +'Everything?' + +'Everything!' + +'What? not only art and poetry ... but even ... horrible to say ...' + +'Everything,' repeated Bazarov, with indescribable composure. + +Pavel Petrovitch stared at him. He had not expected this; while Arkady +fairly blushed with delight. + +'Allow me, though,' began Nikolai Petrovitch. 'You deny everything; or, +speaking more precisely, you destroy everything.... But one must +construct too, you know.' + +'That's not our business now.... The ground wants clearing first.' + +'The present condition of the people requires it,' added Arkady, with +dignity; 'we are bound to carry out these requirements, we have no +right to yield to the satisfaction of our personal egoism.' + +This last phrase obviously displeased Bazarov; there was a flavour of +philosophy, that is to say, romanticism about it, for Bazarov called +philosophy, too, romanticism, but he did not think it necessary to +correct his young disciple. + +'No, no!' cried Pavel Petrovitch, with sudden energy. 'I'm not willing +to believe that you, young men, know the Russian people really, that +you are the representatives of their requirements, their efforts! No; +the Russian people is not what you imagine it. Tradition it holds +sacred; it is a patriarchal people; it cannot live without faith ...' + +'I'm not going to dispute that,' Bazarov interrupted. 'I'm even ready +to agree that in that you're right.' + +'But if I am right ...' + +'And, all the same, that proves nothing.' + +'It just proves nothing,' repeated Arkady, with the confidence of a +practised chess-player, who has foreseen an apparently dangerous move +on the part of his adversary, and so is not at all taken aback by it. + +'How does it prove nothing?' muttered Pavel Petrovitch, astounded. 'You +must be going against the people then?' + +'And what if we are?' shouted Bazarov. 'The people imagine that, when +it thunders, the prophet Ilya's riding across the sky in his chariot. +What then? Are we to agree with them? Besides, the people's Russian; +but am I not Russian too?' + +'No, you are not Russian, after all you have just been saying! I can't +acknowledge you as Russian.' + +'My grandfather ploughed the land,' answered Bazarov with haughty +pride. 'Ask any one of your peasants which of us--you or me--he'd more +readily acknowledge as a fellow-countryman. You don't even know how to +talk to them.' + +'While you talk to him and despise him at the same time.' + +'Well, suppose he deserves contempt. You find fault with my attitude, +but how do you know that I have got it by chance, that it's not a +product of that very national spirit, in the name of which you wage war +on it?' + +'What an idea! Much use in nihilists!' + +'Whether they're of use or not, is not for us to decide. Why, even you +suppose you're not a useless person.' + +'Gentlemen, gentlemen, no personalities, please!' cried Nikolai +Petrovitch, getting up. + +Pavel Petrovitch smiled, and laying his hand on his brother's shoulder, +forced him to sit down again. + +'Don't be uneasy,' he said; 'I shall not forget myself, just through +that sense of dignity which is made fun of so mercilessly by our +friend--our friend, the doctor. Let me ask,' he resumed, turning again +to Bazarov; 'you suppose, possibly, that your doctrine is a novelty? +That is quite a mistake. The materialism you advocate has been more +than once in vogue already, and has always proved insufficient ...' + +'A foreign word again!' broke in Bazarov. He was beginning to feel +vicious, and his face assumed a peculiar coarse coppery hue. 'In the +first place, we advocate nothing; that's not our way.' + +'What do you do, then?' + +'I'll tell you what we do. Not long ago we used to say that our +officials took bribes, that we had no roads, no commerce, no real +justice ...' + +'Oh, I see, you are reformers--that's what that's called, I fancy. I +too should agree to many of your reforms, but ...' + +'Then we suspected that talk, perpetual talk, and nothing but talk, +about our social diseases, was not worth while, that it all led to +nothing but superficiality and pedantry; we saw that our leading men, +so-called advanced people and reformers, are no good; that we busy +ourselves over foolery, talk rubbish about art, unconscious +creativeness, parliamentarism, trial by jury, and the deuce knows what +all; while, all the while, it's a question of getting bread to eat, +while we're stifling under the grossest superstition, while all our +enterprises come to grief, simply because there aren't honest men +enough to carry them on, while the very emancipation our Government's +busy upon will hardly come to any good, because peasants are glad to +rob even themselves to get drunk at the gin-shop.' + +'Yes,' interposed Pavel Petrovitch, 'yes; you were convinced of all +this, and decided not to undertake anything seriously, yourselves.' + +'We decided not to undertake anything,' repeated Bazarov grimly. He +suddenly felt vexed with himself for having, without reason, been so +expansive before this gentleman. + +'But to confine yourselves to abuse?' + +'To confine ourselves to abuse.' + +'And that is called nihilism?' + +'And that's called nihilism,' Bazarov repeated again, this time with +peculiar rudeness. + +Pavel Petrovitch puckered up his face a little. 'So that's it!' he +observed in a strangely composed voice. 'Nihilism is to cure all our +woes, and you, you are our heroes and saviours. But why do you abuse +others, those reformers even? Don't you do as much talking as every one +else?' + +'Whatever faults we have, we do not err in that way,' Bazarov muttered +between his teeth. + +'What, then? Do you act, or what? Are you preparing for action?' + +Bazarov made no answer. Something like a tremor passed over Pavel +Petrovitch, but he at once regained control of himself. + +'Hm! ... Action, destruction ...' he went on. 'But how destroy without +even knowing why?' + +'We shall destroy, because we are a force,' observed Arkady. + +Pavel Petrovitch looked at his nephew and laughed. + +'Yes, a force is not to be called to account,' said Arkady, drawing +himself up. + +'Unhappy boy!' wailed Pavel Petrovitch, he was positively incapable of +maintaining his firm demeanour any longer. 'If you could only realise +what it is you are doing for your country. No; it's enough to try the +patience of an angel! Force! There's force in the savage Kalmuck, in +the Mongolian; but what is it to us? What is precious to us is +civilisation; yes, yes, sir, its fruits are precious to us. And don't +tell me those fruits are worthless; the poorest dauber, _un +barbouilleur_, the man who plays dance music for five farthings an +evening, is of more use than you, because they are the representatives +of civilisation, and not of brute Mongolian force! You fancy yourselves +advanced people, and all the while you are only fit for the Kalmuck's +hovel! Force! And recollect, you forcible gentlemen, that you're only +four men and a half, and the others are millions, who won't let you +trample their sacred traditions under foot, who will crush you and walk +over you!' + +'If we're crushed, serve us right,' observed Bazarov. 'But that's an +open question. We are not so few as you suppose.' + +'What? You seriously suppose you will come to terms with a whole +people?' + +'All Moscow was burnt down, you know, by a farthing dip,' answered +Bazarov. + +'Yes, yes. First a pride almost Satanic, then ridicule--that, that's +what it is attracts the young, that's what gains an ascendancy over the +inexperienced hearts of boys! Here's one of them sitting beside you, +ready to worship the ground under your feet. Look at him! (Arkady +turned away and frowned.) And this plague has spread far already. I +have been told that in Rome our artists never set foot in the Vatican. +Raphael they regard as almost a fool, because, if you please, he's an +authority; while they're all the while most disgustingly sterile and +unsuccessful, men whose imagination does not soar beyond 'Girls at a +Fountain,' however they try! And the girls even out of drawing. They +are fine fellows to your mind, are they not?' + +'To my mind,' retorted Bazarov, 'Raphael's not worth a brass farthing; +and they're no better than he.' + +'Bravo! bravo! Listen, Arkady ... that's how young men of to-day ought +to express themselves! And if you come to think of it, how could they +fail to follow you! In old days, young men had to study; they didn't +want to be called dunces, so they had to work hard whether they liked +it or not. But now, they need only say, "Everything in the world is +foolery!" and the trick's done. Young men are delighted. And, to be +sure, they were simply geese before, and now they have suddenly turned +nihilists.' + +'Your praiseworthy sense of personal dignity has given way,' remarked +Bazarov phlegmatically, while Arkady was hot all over, and his eyes +were flashing. 'Our argument has gone too far; it's better to cut it +short, I think. I shall be quite ready to agree with you,' he added, +getting up, 'when you bring forward a single institution in our present +mode of life, in family or in social life, which does not call for +complete and unqualified destruction.' + +'I will bring forward millions of such institutions,' cried Pavel +Petrovitch--'millions! Well--the Mir, for instance.' + +A cold smile curved Bazarov's lips. 'Well, as regards the Mir,' he +commented; 'you had better talk to your brother. He has seen by now, I +should fancy, what sort of thing the Mir is in fact--its common +guarantee, its sobriety, and other features of the kind.' + +'The family, then, the family as it exists among our peasants!' cried +Pavel Petrovitch. + +'And that subject, too, I imagine, it will be better for yourselves not +to go into in detail. Don't you realise all the advantages of the head +of the family choosing his daughters-in-law? Take my advice, Pavel +Petrovitch, allow yourself two days to think about it; you're not +likely to find anything on the spot. Go through all our classes, and +think well over each, while I and Arkady will ...' + +'Will go on turning everything into ridicule,' broke in Pavel +Petrovitch. + +'No, will go on dissecting frogs. Come, Arkady; good-bye for the +present, gentlemen!' + +The two friends walked off. The brothers were left alone, and at first +they only looked at one another. + +'So that,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'so that's what our young men of +this generation are! They are like that--our successors!' + +'Our successors!' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, with a dejected smile. +He had been sitting on thorns, all through the argument, and had done +nothing but glance stealthily, with a sore heart, at Arkady. 'Do you +know what I was reminded of, brother? I once had a dispute with our +poor mother; she stormed, and wouldn't listen to me. At last I said to +her, "Of course, you can't understand me; we belong," I said, "to two +different generations." She was dreadfully offended, while I thought, +"There's no help for it. It's a bitter pill, but she has to swallow +it." You see, now, our turn has come, and our successors can say to us, +"You are not of our generation; swallow your pill."' + +'You are beyond everything in your generosity and modesty,' replied +Pavel Petrovitch. 'I'm convinced, on the contrary, that you and I are +far more in the right than these young gentlemen, though we do perhaps +express ourselves in old-fashioned language, _vieilli_, and have not +the same insolent conceit.... And the swagger of the young men +nowadays! You ask one, "Do you take red wine or white?" "It is my +custom to prefer red!" he answers in a deep bass, with a face as solemn +as if the whole universe had its eyes on him at that instant....' + +'Do you care for any more tea?' asked Fenitchka, putting her head in at +the door; she had not been able to make up her mind to come into the +drawing-room while there was the sound of voices in dispute there. + +'No, you can tell them to take the samovar,' answered Nikolai +Petrovitch, and he got up to meet her. Pavel Petrovitch said '_bon +soir_' to him abruptly, and went away to his study. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Half an hour later Nikolai Petrovitch went into the garden to his +favourite arbour. He was overtaken by melancholy thoughts. For the +first time he realised clearly the distance between him and his son; he +foresaw that every day it would grow wider and wider. In vain, then, +had he spent whole days sometimes in the winter at Petersburg over the +newest books; in vain had he listened to the talk of the young men; in +vain had he rejoiced when he succeeded in putting in his word too in +their heated discussions. 'My brother says we are right,' he thought, +'and apart from all vanity, I do think myself that they are further +from the truth than we are, though at the same time I feel there is +something behind them we have not got, some superiority over us.... Is +it youth? No; not only youth. Doesn't their superiority consist in +there being fewer traces of the slaveowner in them than in us?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch's head sank despondently, and he passed his hand +over his face. + +'But to renounce poetry?' he thought again; 'to have no feeling for +art, for nature ...' + +And he looked round, as though trying to understand how it was possible +to have no feeling for nature. It was already evening; the sun was +hidden behind a small copse of aspens which lay a quarter of a mile +from the garden; its shadow stretched indefinitely across the still +fields. A peasant on a white nag went at a trot along the dark, narrow +path close beside the copse; his whole figure was clearly visible even +to the patch on his shoulder, in spite of his being in the shade; the +horse's hoofs flew along bravely. The sun's rays from the farther side +fell full on the copse, and piercing through its thickets, threw such a +warm light on the aspen trunks that they looked like pines, and their +leaves were almost a dark blue, while above them rose a pale blue sky, +faintly tinged by the glow of sunset. The swallows flew high; the wind +had quite died away, belated bees hummed slowly and drowsily among the +lilac blossom; a swarm of midges hung like a cloud over a solitary +branch which stood out against the sky. 'How beautiful, my God!' +thought Nikolai Petrovitch, and his favourite verses were almost on his +lips; he remembered Arkady's _Stoff und Kraft_--and was silent, but +still he sat there, still he gave himself up to the sorrowful +consolation of solitary thought. He was fond of dreaming; his country +life had developed the tendency in him. How short a time ago, he had +been dreaming like this, waiting for his son at the posting station, +and what a change already since that day; their relations that were +then undefined, were defined now--and how defined! Again his dead wife +came back to his imagination, but not as he had known her for many +years, not as the good domestic housewife, but as a young girl with a +slim figure, innocently inquiring eyes, and a tight twist of hair on +her childish neck. He remembered how he had seen her for the first +time. He was still a student then. He had met her on the staircase of +his lodgings, and, jostling by accident against her, he tried to +apologise, and could only mutter, '_Pardon, monsieur_,' while she +bowed, smiled, and suddenly seemed frightened, and ran away, though at +the bend of the staircase she had glanced rapidly at him, assumed a +serious air, and blushed. Afterwards, the first timid visits, the +half-words, the half-smiles, and embarrassment; and melancholy, and +yearnings, and at last that breathing rapture.... Where had it all +vanished? She had been his wife, he had been happy as few on earth are +happy.... 'But,' he mused, 'these sweet first moments, why could one +not live an eternal, undying life in them?' + +He did not try to make his thought clear to himself; but he felt that +he longed to keep that blissful time by something stronger than memory; +he longed to feel his Marya near him again to have the sense of her +warmth and breathing, and already he could fancy that over him.... + +'Nikolai Petrovitch,' came the sound of Fenitchka's voice close by him; +'where are you?' + +He started. He felt no pang, no shame. He never even admitted the +possibility of comparison between his wife and Fenitchka, but he was +sorry she had thought of coming to look for him. Her voice had brought +back to him at once his grey hairs, his age, his reality.... + +The enchanted world into which he was just stepping, which was just +rising out of the dim mists of the past, was shaken--and vanished. + +'I'm here,' he answered; 'I'm coming, run along.' 'There it is, the +traces of the slave owner,' flashed through his mind. Fenitchka peeped +into the arbour at him without speaking, and disappeared; while he +noticed with astonishment that the night had come on while he had been +dreaming. Everything around was dark and hushed. Fenitchka's face had +glimmered so pale and slight before him. He got up, and was about to go +home; but the emotion stirred in his heart could not be soothed at +once, and he began slowly walking about the garden, sometimes looking +at the ground at his feet, and then raising his eyes towards the sky +where swarms of stars were twinkling. He walked a great deal, till he +was almost tired out, while the restlessness within him, a kind of +yearning, vague, melancholy restlessness, still was not appeased. Oh, +how Bazarov would have laughed at him, if he had known what was passing +within him then! Arkady himself would have condemned him. He, a man +forty-four years old, an agriculturist and a farmer, was shedding +tears, causeless tears; this was a hundred times worse than the +violoncello. + +Nikolai Petrovitch continued walking, and could not make up his mind to +go into the house, into the snug peaceful nest, which looked out at him +so hospitably from all its lighted windows; he had not the force to +tear himself away from the darkness, the garden, the sense of the fresh +air in his face, from that melancholy, that restless craving. + +At a turn in the path, he was met by Pavel Petrovitch. 'What's the +matter with you?' he asked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'you are as white as a +ghost; you are not well; why don't you go to bed?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch explained to him briefly his state of feeling and +moved away. Pavel Petrovitch went to the end of the garden, and he too +grew thoughtful, and he too raised his eyes toward the heavens. But in +his beautiful dark eyes, nothing was reflected but the light of the +stars. He was not born an idealist, and his fastidiously dry and +sensuous soul, with its French tinge of cynicism was not capable of +dreaming.... + +'Do you know what?' Bazarov was saying to Arkady the same night. 'I've +got a splendid idea. Your father was saying to-day that he'd had an +invitation from your illustrious relative. Your father's not going; let +us be off to X----; you know the worthy man invites you too. You see +what fine weather it is; we'll stroll about and look at the town. We'll +have five or six days' outing, and enjoy ourselves.' + +'And you'll come back here again?' + +'No; I must go to my father's. You know, he lives about twenty-five +miles from X----. I've not seen him for a long while, and my mother +too; I must cheer the old people up. They've been good to me, +especially my father; he's awfully funny. I'm their only one too.' + +'And will you be long with them?' + +'I don't suppose so. It will be dull, of course.' + +'And you'll come to us on your way back?' + +'I don't know ... I'll see. Well, what do you say? Shall we go?' + +'If you like,' observed Arkady languidly. + +In his heart he was highly delighted with his friend's suggestion, but +he thought it a duty to conceal his feeling. He was not a nihilist for +nothing! + +The next day he set off with Bazarov to X----. The younger part of the +household at Maryino were sorry at their going; Dunyasha even cried ... +but the old folks breathed more easily. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +The town of X---- to which our friends set off was in the jurisdiction +of a governor who was a young man, and at once a progressive and a +despot, as often happens with Russians. Before the end of the first +year of his government, he had managed to quarrel not only with the +marshal of nobility, a retired officer of the guards, who kept open +house and a stud of horses, but even with his own subordinates. The +feuds arising from this cause assumed at last such proportions that the +ministry in Petersburg had found it necessary to send down a trusted +personage with a commission to investigate it all on the spot. The +choice of the authorities fell upon Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, the son of +the Kolyazin, under whose protection the brothers Kirsanov had once +found themselves. He, too, was a 'young man'; that is to say, he had +not long passed forty, but he was already on the high road to becoming +a statesman, and wore a star on each side of his breast--one, to be +sure, a foreign star, not of the first magnitude. Like the governor, +whom he had come down to pass judgment upon, he was reckoned a +progressive; and though he was already a bigwig, he was not like the +majority of bigwigs. He had the highest opinion of himself; his vanity +knew no bounds, but he behaved simply, looked affable, listened +condescendingly, and laughed so good-naturedly, that on a first +acquaintance he might even be taken for 'a jolly good fellow.' On +important occasions, however, he knew, as the saying is, how to make +his authority felt. 'Energy is essential,' he used to say then, +'_l'énergie est la première qualité d'un homme d'état_;' and for all +that, he was usually taken in, and any moderately experienced official +could turn him round his finger. Matvy Ilyitch used to speak with great +respect of Guizot, and tried to impress every one with the idea that he +did not belong to the class of _routiniers_ and high-and-dry +bureaucrats, that not a single phenomenon of social life passed +unnoticed by him.... All such phrases were very familiar to him. He +even followed, with dignified indifference, it is true, the development +of contemporary literature; so a grown-up man who meets a procession of +small boys in the street will sometimes walk after it. In reality, +Matvy Ilyitch had not got much beyond those political men of the days +of Alexander, who used to prepare for an evening party at Madame +Svyetchin's by reading a page of Condillac; only his methods were +different, more modern. He was an adroit courtier, a great hypocrite, +and nothing more; he had no special aptitude for affairs, and no +intellect, but he knew how to manage his own business successfully; no +one could get the better of him there, and, to be sure, that's the +principal thing. + +Matvy Ilyitch received Arkady with the good-nature, we might even call +it playfulness, characteristic of the enlightened higher official. He +was astonished, however, when he heard that the cousins he had invited +had remained at home in the country. 'Your father was always a queer +fellow,' he remarked, playing with the tassels of his magnificent +velvet dressing-gown, and suddenly turning to a young official in a +discreetly buttoned-up uniform, he cried, with an air of concentrated +attention, 'What?' The young man, whose lips were glued together from +prolonged silence, got up and looked in perplexity at his chief. But, +having nonplussed his subordinate, Matvy Ilyitch paid him no further +attention. Our higher officials are fond as a rule of nonplussing their +subordinates; the methods to which they have recourse to attain that +end are rather various. The following means, among others, is in great +vogue, '_is quite a favourite_,' as the English say; a high official +suddenly ceases to understand the simplest words, assuming total +deafness. He will ask, for instance, What's to-day?' + +He is respectfully informed, 'To-day's Friday, your Ex-s-s-s-lency.' + +'Eh? What? What's that? What do you say?' the great man repeats with +intense attention. + +'To-day's Friday, your Ex--s--s--lency.' + +'Eh? What? What's Friday? What Friday?' + +'Friday, your Ex--s--s--s--lency, the day of the week.' + +'What, do you pretend to teach me, eh?' + +Matvy Ilyitch was a higher official all the same, though he was +reckoned a liberal. + +'I advise you, my dear boy, to go and call on the Governor,' he said to +Arkady; 'you understand, I don't advise you to do so because I adhere +to old-fashioned ideas of the necessity of paying respect to +authorities, but simply because the Governor's a very decent fellow; +besides, you probably want to make acquaintance with the society +here.... You're not a bear, I hope? And he's giving a great ball the +day after to-morrow.' + +'Will you be at the ball?' inquired Arkady. + +'He gives it in my honour,' answered Matvy Ilyitch, almost pityingly. +'Do you dance?' + +'Yes; I dance, but not well.' + +'That's a pity! There are pretty girls here, and it's a disgrace for a +young man not to dance. Again, I don't say that through any +old-fashioned ideas; I don't in the least imagine that a man's wit lies +in his feet, but Byronism is ridiculous, _il a fait son temps_.' + +'But, uncle, it's not through Byronism, I ...' + +'I will introduce you to the ladies here; I will take you under my +wing,' interrupted Matvy Ilyitch, and he laughed complacently. 'You'll +find it warm, eh?' + +A servant entered and announced the arrival of the superintendent of +the Crown domains, a mild-eyed old man, with deep creases round his +mouth, who was excessively fond of nature, especially on a summer day, +when, in his words, 'every little busy bee takes a little bribe from +every little flower.' Arkady withdrew. + +He found Bazarov at the tavern where they were staying, and was a long +while persuading him to go with him to the Governor's. 'Well, there's +no help for it,' said Bazarov at last. 'It's no good doing things by +halves. We came to look at the gentry; let's look at them!' + +The Governor received the young men affably, but he did not ask them to +sit down, nor did he sit down himself. He was in an everlasting fuss +and hurry; in the morning he used to put on a tight uniform and an +excessively stiff cravat; he never ate or drank enough; he was for ever +making arrangements. He invited Kirsanov and Bazarov to his ball, and +within a few minutes invited them a second time, regarding them as +brothers, and calling them Kisarov. + +They were on their way home from the Governor's, when suddenly a short +man, in a Slavophil national dress, leaped out of a trap that was +passing them, and crying, 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' dashed up to Bazarov. + +'Ah! it's you, Herr Sitnikov,' observed Bazarov, still stepping along +on the pavement; 'by what chance did you come here?' + +'Fancy, absolutely by chance,' he replied, and returning to the trap, +he waved his hand several times, and shouted, 'Follow, follow us! My +father had business here,' he went on, hopping across the gutter, 'and +so he asked me.... I heard to-day of your arrival, and have already +been to see you....' (The friends did, in fact, on returning to their +room, find there a card, with the corners turned down, bearing the name +of Sitnikov, on one side in French, on the other in Slavonic +characters.) 'I hope you are not coming from the Governor's?' + +'It's no use to hope; we come straight from him.' + +'Ah! in that case I will call on him too.... Yevgeny Vassilyitch, +introduce me to your ... to the ...' + +'Sitnikov, Kirsanov,' mumbled Bazarov, not stopping. + +'I am greatly flattered,' began Sitnikov, walking sidewise, smirking, +and hurriedly pulling off his really over-elegant gloves. 'I have heard +so much.... I am an old acquaintance of Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and, I may +say--his disciple. I am indebted to him for my regeneration....' + +Arkady looked at Bazarov's disciple. There was an expression of +excitement and dulness imprinted on the small but pleasant features of +his well-groomed face; his small eyes, that seemed squeezed in, had a +fixed and uneasy look, and his laugh, too, was uneasy--a sort of short, +wooden laugh. + +'Would you believe it,' he pursued, 'when Yevgeny Vassilyitch for the +first time said before me that it was not right to accept any +authorities, I felt such enthusiasm ... as though my eyes were opened! +Here, I thought, at last I have found a man! By the way, Yevgeny +Vassilyitch, you positively must come to know a lady here, who is +really capable of understanding you, and for whom your visit would be a +real festival; you have heard of her, I suppose?' + +'Who is it?' Bazarov brought out unwillingly. + +'Kukshina, _Eudoxie_, Evdoksya Kukshin. She's a remarkable nature, +_émancipée_ in the true sense of the word, an advanced woman. Do you +know what? We'll all go together to see her now. She lives only two +steps from here. We will have lunch there. I suppose you have not +lunched yet?' + +'No; not yet.' + +'Well, that's capital. She has separated, you understand, from her +husband; she is not dependent on any one.' + +'Is she pretty?' Bazarov cut in. + +'N-no, one couldn't say that.' + +'Then, what the devil are you asking us to see her for?' + +'Fie; you must have your joke.... She will give us a bottle of +champagne.' + +'Oh, that's it. One can see the practical man at once. By the way, is +your father still in the gin business?' + +'Yes,' said Sitnikov, hurriedly, and he gave a shrill spasmodic laugh. +'Well? Will you come?' + +'I don't really know.' + +'You wanted to see people, go along,' said Arkady in an undertone. + +'And what do you say to it, Mr. Kirsanov?' Sitnikov put in. 'You must +come too; we can't go without you.' + +'But how can we burst in upon her all at once?' + +'That's no matter. Kukshina's a brick!' + +'There will be a bottle of champagne?' asked Bazarov. + +'Three!' cried Sitnikov; 'that I answer for.' + +'What with?' + +'My own head.' + +'Your father's purse would be better. However, we are coming.' + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +The small gentleman's house in the Moscow style, in which Avdotya +Nikitishna, otherwise Evdoksya, Kukshin, lived, was in one of the +streets of X----, which had been lately burnt down; it is well known +that our provincial towns are burnt down every five years. At the door, +above a visiting card nailed on all askew, there was a bell-handle to +be seen, and in the hall the visitors were met by some one, not exactly +a servant, nor exactly a companion, in a cap--unmistakable tokens of +the progressive tendencies of the lady of the house. Sitnikov inquired +whether Avdotya Nikitishna was at home. + +'Is that you, _Victor_?' sounded a shrill voice from the adjoining +room. 'Come in.' + +The woman in the cap disappeared at once. + +'I'm not alone,' observed Sitnikov, with a sharp look at Arkady and +Bazarov as he briskly pulled off his overcoat, beneath which appeared +something of the nature of a coachman's velvet jacket. + +'No matter,' answered the voice. '_Entrez_.' + +The young men went in. The room into which they walked was more like a +working study than a drawing-room. Papers, letters, fat numbers of +Russian journals, for the most part uncut, lay at random on the dusty +tables; white cigarette ends lay scattered in every direction. On a +leather-covered sofa, a lady, still young, was half reclining. Her fair +hair was rather dishevelled; she wore a silk gown, not perfectly tidy, +heavy bracelets on her short arms, and a lace handkerchief on her head. +She got up from the sofa, and carelessly drawing a velvet cape trimmed +with yellowish ermine over her shoulders, she said languidly, +'Good-morning, _Victor_,' and pressed Sitnikov's hand. + +'Bazarov, Kirsanov,' he announced abruptly in imitation of Bazarov. + +'Delighted,' answered Madame Kukshin, and fixing on Bazarov a pair of +round eyes, between which was a forlorn little turned-up red nose, 'I +know you,' she added, and pressed his hand too. + +Bazarov scowled. There was nothing repulsive in the little plain person +of the emancipated woman; but the expression of her face produced a +disagreeable effect on the spectator. One felt impelled to ask her, +'What's the matter; are you hungry? Or bored? Or shy? What are you in a +fidget about?' Both she and Sitnikov had always the same uneasy air. +She was extremely unconstrained, and at the same time awkward; she +obviously regarded herself as a good-natured, simple creature, and all +the while, whatever she did, it always struck one that it was not just +what she wanted to do; everything with her seemed, as children say, +done on purpose, that's to say, not simply, not naturally. + +'Yes, yes, I know you, Bazarov,' she repeated. (She had the +habit--peculiar to many provincial and Moscow ladies--of calling men by +their surnames from the first day of acquaintance with them.) 'Will you +have a cigar?' + +'A cigar's all very well,' put in Sitnikov, who by now was lolling in +an armchair, his legs in the air; 'but give us some lunch. We're +awfully hungry; and tell them to bring us up a little bottle of +champagne.' + +'Sybarite,' commented Evdoksya, and she laughed. (When she laughed the +gum showed above her upper teeth.) 'Isn't it true, Bazarov; he's a +Sybarite?' + +'I like comfort in life,' Sitnikov brought out, with dignity. 'That +does not prevent my being a Liberal.' + +'No, it does; it does prevent it!' cried Evdoksya. She gave directions, +however, to her maid, both as regards the lunch and the champagne. + +'What do you think about it?' she added, turning to Bazarov. 'I'm +persuaded you share my opinion.' + +'Well, no,' retorted Bazarov; 'a piece of meat's better than a piece of +bread even from the chemical point of view.' + +'You are studying chemistry? That is my passion. I've even invented a +new sort of composition myself.' + +'A composition? You?' + +'Yes. And do you know for what purpose? To make dolls' heads so that +they shouldn't break. I'm practical, too, yon see. But everything's not +quite ready yet. I've still to read Liebig. By the way, have you read +Kislyakov's article on Female Labour, in the _Moscow Gazette_? Read it +please. You're interested in the woman question, I suppose? And in the +schools too? What does your friend do? What is his name?' + +Madame Kukshin shed her questions one after another with affected +negligence, not waiting for an answer; spoilt children talk so to their +nurses. + +'My name's Arkady Nikolaitch Kirsanov,' said Arkady, 'and I'm doing +nothing.' + +Evdoksya giggled. 'How charming! What, don't you smoke? Victor, do you +know, I'm very angry with you.' + +'What for?' + +'They tell me you've begun singing the praises of George Sand again. A +retrograde woman, and nothing else! How can people compare her with +Emerson! She hasn't an idea on education, nor physiology, nor anything. +She'd never, I'm persuaded, heard of embryology, and in these +days--what can be done without that?' (Evdoksya even threw up her +hands.) 'Ah, what a wonderful article Elisyevitch has written on that +subject! He's a gentleman of genius.' (Evdoksya constantly made use of +the word 'gentleman' instead of the word 'man.') 'Bazarov, sit by me on +the sofa. You don't know, perhaps, I'm awfully afraid of you.' + +'Why so? Allow me to ask.' + +'You're a dangerous gentleman; you're such a critic. Good God! yes! +why, how absurd, I'm talking like some country lady. I really am a +country lady, though. I manage my property myself; and only fancy, my +bailiff Erofay's a wonderful type, quite like Cooper's Pathfinder; +something in him so spontaneous! I've come to settle here finally; it's +an intolerable town, isn't it? But what's one to do?' + +'The town's like every town,' Bazarov remarked coolly. + +'All its interests are so petty, that's what's so awful! I used to +spend the winters in Moscow ... but now my lawful spouse, Monsieur +Kukshin's residing there. And besides, Moscow nowadays ... there, I +don't know--it's not the same as it was. I'm thinking of going abroad; +last year I was on the point of setting off.' + +'To Paris, I suppose?' queried Bazarov. + +'To Paris and to Heidelberg.' + +'Why to Heidelberg?' + +'How can you ask? Why, Bunsen's there!' + +To this Bazarov could find no reply. + +'_Pierre_ Sapozhnikov ... do you know him?' + +'No, I don't.' + +'Not know _Pierre_ Sapozhnikov ... he's always at Lidia Hestatov's.' + +'I don't know her either.' + +'Well, it was he undertook to escort me. Thank God, I'm independent; +I've no children.... What was that I said: _thank God!_ It's no matter +though.' + +Evdoksya rolled a cigarette up between her fingers, which were brown +with tobacco stains, put it to her tongue, licked it up, and began +smoking. The maid came in with a tray. + +'Ah, here's lunch! Will you have an appetiser first? Victor, open the +bottle; that's in your line.' + +'Yes, it's in my line,' muttered Sitnikov, and again he gave vent to +the same convulsive laugh. + +'Are there any pretty women here?' inquired Bazarov, as he drank off a +third glass. + +'Yes, there are,' answered Evdoksya; 'but they're all such empty-headed +creatures. _Mon amie_, Odintsova, for instance, is nice-looking. It's a +pity her reputation's rather doubtful.... That wouldn't matter, though, +but she's no independence in her views, no width, nothing ... of all +that. The whole system of education wants changing. I've thought a +great deal about it, our women are very badly educated.' + +'There's no doing anything with them,' put in Sitnikov; 'one ought to +despise them, and I do despise them fully and completely!' (The +possibility of feeling and expressing contempt was the most agreeable +sensation to Sitnikov; he used to attack women in especial, never +suspecting that it was to be his fate a few months later to be cringing +before his wife merely because she had been born a princess +Durdoleosov.) 'Not a single one of them would be capable of +understanding our conversation; not a single one deserves to be spoken +of by serious men like us!' + +'But there's not the least need for them to understand our +conversation,' observed Bazarov. + +'Whom do you mean?' put in Evdoksya. + +'Pretty women.' + +'What? Do you adopt Proudhon's ideas, then?' + +Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. 'I don't adopt any one's ideas; I +have my own.' + +'Damn all authorities!' shouted Sitnikov, delighted to have a chance of +expressing himself boldly before the man he slavishly admired. + +'But even Macaulay,' Madame Kukshin was beginning ... + +'Damn Macaulay,' thundered Sitnikov. 'Are you going to stand up for the +silly hussies?' + +'For silly hussies, no, but for the rights of women, which I have sworn +to defend to the last drop of my blood.' + +'Damn!'--but here Sitnikov stopped. 'But I don't deny them,' he said. + +'No, I see you're a Slavophil.' + +'No, I'm not a Slavophil, though, of course ...' + +'No, no, no! You are a Slavophil. You're an advocate of patriarchal +despotism. You want to have the whip in your hand!' + +'A whip's an excellent thing,' remarked Bazarov; 'but we've got to the +last drop.' + +'Of what?' interrupted Evdoksya. + +'Of champagne, most honoured Avdotya Nikitishna, of champagne--not of +your blood.' + +'I can never listen calmly when women are attacked,' pursued Evdoksya. +'It's awful, awful. Instead of attacking them, you'd better read +Michelet's book, _De l'amour_. That's exquisite! Gentlemen, let us talk +of love,' added Evdoksya, letting her arm fall languidly on the rumpled +sofa cushion. + +A sudden silence followed. 'No, why should we talk of love,' said +Bazarov; 'but you mentioned just now a Madame Odintsov ... That was +what you called her, I think? Who is that lady?' + +'She's charming, charming!' piped Sitnikov. 'I will introduce you. +Clever, rich, a widow. It's a pity, she's not yet advanced enough; she +ought to see more of our Evdoksya. I drink to your health, _Evdoxie!_ +Let us clink glasses! _Et toc, et toc, et tin-tin-tin! Et toc, et toc, +et tin-tin-tin!!!_' + +'Victor, you're a wretch.' + +The lunch dragged on a long while. The first bottle of champagne was +followed by another, a third, and even a fourth.... Evdoksya chattered +without pause; Sitnikov seconded her. They had much discussion upon the +question whether marriage was a prejudice or a crime, and whether men +were born equal or not, and precisely what individuality consists in. +Things came at last to Evdoksya, flushed from the wine she had drunk, +tapping with her flat finger-tips on the keys of a discordant piano, +and beginning to sing in a hoarse voice, first gipsy songs, and then +Seymour Schiff's song, 'Granada lies slumbering'; while Sitnikov tied a +scarf round his head, and represented the dying lover at the words-- + + 'And thy lips to mine + In burning kiss entwine.' + +Arkady could not stand it at last. 'Gentlemen, it's getting something +like Bedlam,' he remarked aloud. Bazarov, who had at rare intervals put +in an ironical word in the conversation--he paid more attention to the +champagne--gave a loud yawn, got up, and, without taking leave of their +hostess, he walked off with Arkady. Sitnikov jumped up and followed +them. + +'Well, what do you think of her?' he inquired, skipping obsequiously +from right to left of them. 'I told you, you see, a remarkable +personality! If we only had more women like that! She is, in her own +way, an expression of the highest morality.' + +'And is that establishment of your governor's an expression of the +highest morality too?' observed Bazarov, pointing to a ginshop which +they were passing at that instant. + +Sitnikov again went off into a shrill laugh. He was greatly ashamed of +his origin, and did not know whether to feel flattered or offended at +Bazarov's unexpected familiarity. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +A few days later the ball at the Governor's took place. Matvy Ilyitch +was the real 'hero of the occasion.' The marshal of nobility declared +to all and each that he had come simply out of respect for him; while +the Governor, even at the ball, even while he remained perfectly +motionless, was still 'making arrangements.' The affability of Matvy +Ilyitch's demeanour could only be equalled by its dignity. He was +gracious to all, to some with a shade of disgust, to others with a +shade of respect; he was all bows and smiles '_en vrai chevalier +français_' before the ladies, and was continually giving vent to a +hearty, sonorous, unshared laugh, such as befits a high official. He +slapped Arkady on the back, and called him loudly 'nephew'; vouchsafed +Bazarov--who was attired in a rather old evening coat--a sidelong +glance in passing--absent but condescending--and an indistinct but +affable grunt, in which nothing could be distinguished but 'I ...' and +'very much'; gave Sitnikov a finger and a smile, though with his head +already averted; even to Madame Kukshin, who made her appearance at the +ball with dirty gloves, no crinoline, and a bird of Paradise in her +hair, he said '_enchanté_.' There were crowds of people, and no lack of +dancing men; the civilians were for the most part standing close along +the walls, but the officers danced assiduously, especially one of them +who had spent six weeks in Paris, where he had mastered various daring +interjections of the kind of--'_zut_,' '_Ah, fichtr-re_,' '_pst, pst, +mon bibi_,' and such. He pronounced them to perfection with genuine +Parisian _chic_, and at the same time he said '_si j'aurais_' for '_si +j'avais_,' '_absolument_' in the sense of 'absolutely,' expressed +himself, in fact, in that Great Russo-French jargon which the French +ridicule so when they have no reason for assuring us that we speak +French like angels, '_comme des anges_.' + +Arkady, as we are aware, danced badly, while Bazarov did not dance at +all; they both took up their position in a corner; Sitnikov joined +himself on to them, with an expression of contemptuous scorn on his +face, and giving vent to spiteful comments, he looked insolently about +him, and seemed to be really enjoying himself. Suddenly his face +changed, and turning to Arkady, he said, with some show of +embarrassment it seemed, 'Odintsova is here!' + +Arkady looked round, and saw a tall woman in a black dress standing at +the door of the room. He was struck by the dignity of her carriage. Her +bare arms lay gracefully beside her slender waist; gracefully some +light sprays of fuchsia drooped from her shining hair on to her sloping +shoulders; her clear eyes looked out from under a rather overhanging +white brow, with a tranquil and intelligent expression--tranquil it was +precisely, not pensive--and on her lips was a scarcely perceptible +smile. There was a kind of gracious and gentle force about her face. + +'Do you know her?' Arkady asked Sitnikov. + +'Intimately. Would you like me to introduce you?' + +'Please ... after this quadrille.' + +Bazarov's attention, too, was directed to Madame Odintsov. + +'That's a striking figure,' he remarked. 'Not like the other females.' + +After waiting till the end of the quadrille, Sitnikov led Arkady up to +Madame Odintsov; but he hardly seemed to be intimately acquainted with +her; he was embarrassed in his sentences, while she looked at him in +some surprise. But her face assumed an expression of pleasure when she +heard Arkady's surname. She asked him whether he was not the son of +Nikolai Petrovitch. + +'Yes.' + +'I have seen your father twice, and have heard a great deal about him,' +she went on; 'I am glad to make your acquaintance.' + +At that instant some adjutant flew up to her and begged for a +quadrille. She consented. + +'Do you dance then?' asked Arkady respectfully. + +'Yes, I dance. Why do you suppose I don't dance? Do you think I am too +old?' + +'Really, how could I possibly.... But in that case, let me ask you for +a mazurka.' + +Madame Odintsov smiled graciously. 'Certainly,' she said, and she +looked at Arkady not exactly with an air of superiority, but as married +sisters look at very young brothers. Madame Odintsov was a little older +than Arkady--she was twenty-nine--but in her presence he felt himself a +schoolboy, a little student, so that the difference in age between them +seemed of more consequence. Matvy Ilyitch approached her with a +majestic air and ingratiating speeches. Arkady moved away, but he still +watched her; he could not take his eyes off her even during the +quadrille. She talked with equal ease to her partner and to the grand +official, softly turned her head and eyes, and twice laughed softly. +Her nose--like almost all Russian noses--was a little thick; and her +complexion was not perfectly clear; Arkady made up his mind, for all +that, that he had never before met such an attractive woman. He could +not get the sound of her voice out of his ears; the very folds of her +dress seemed to hang upon her differently from all the rest--more +gracefully and amply--and her movements were distinguished by a +peculiar smoothness and naturalness. + +Arkady felt some timidity in his heart when at the first sounds of the +mazurka he began to sit it out beside his partner; he had prepared to +enter into a conversation with her, but he only passed his hand through +his hair, and could not find a single word to say. But his timidity and +agitation did not last long; Madame Odintsov's tranquillity gained upon +him too; before a quarter of an hour had passed he was telling her +freely about his father, his uncle, his life in Petersburg and in the +country. Madame Odintsov listened to him with courteous sympathy, +slightly opening and closing her fan; his talk was broken off when +partners came for her; Sitnikov, among others, twice asked her. She +came back, sat down again, took up her fan, and her bosom did not even +heave more rapidly, while Arkady fell to chattering again, filled +through and through by the happiness of being near her, talking to her, +looking at her eyes, her lovely brow, all her sweet, dignified, clever +face. She said little, but her words showed a knowledge of life; from +some of her observations Arkady gathered that this young woman had +already felt and thought much.... + +'Who is that you were standing with?' she asked him, 'when Mr. Sitnikov +brought you to me?' + +'Did you notice him?' Arkady asked in his turn. 'He has a splendid +face, hasn't he? That's Bazarov, my friend.' + +Arkady fell to discussing 'his friend.' He spoke of him in such detail, +and with such enthusiasm, that Madame Odintsov turned towards him and +looked attentively at him. Meanwhile, the mazurka was drawing to a +close. Arkady felt sorry to part from his partner; he had spent nearly +an hour so happily with her! He had, it is true, during the whole time +continually felt as though she were condescending to him, as though he +ought to be grateful to her ... but young hearts are not weighed down +by that feeling. + +The music stopped. '_Merci_,' said Madame Odintsov, getting up. 'You +promised to come and see me; bring your friend with you. I shall be +very curious to see the man who has the courage to believe in nothing.' + +The Governor came up to Madame Odintsov, announced that supper was +ready, and, with a careworn face, offered her his arm. As she went +away, she turned to give a last smile and bow to Arkady. He bowed low, +looked after her (how graceful her figure seemed to him, draped in the +greyish lustre of the black silk!), and thinking, 'This minute she has +forgotten my existence,' was conscious of an exquisite humility in his +soul. + +'Well?' Bazarov questioned him, directly he had gone back to him in the +corner. 'Did you have a good time? A gentleman has just been talking to +me about that lady; he said, "She's--oh, fie! fie!" but I fancy the +fellow was a fool. What do you think, what is she?--oh, fie! fie!' + +'I don't quite understand that definition,' answered Arkady. + +'Oh, my! What innocence!' + +'In that case, I don't understand the gentleman you quote. Madame +Odintsov is very sweet, no doubt, but she behaves so coldly and +severely, that....' + +'Still waters ... you know!' put in Bazarov. 'That's just what gives it +piquancy. You like ices, I expect?' + +'Perhaps,' muttered Arkady. 'I can't give an opinion about that. She +wishes to make your acquaintance, and has asked me to bring you to see +her.' + +'I can imagine how you've described me! But you did very well. Take me. +Whatever she may be--whether she's simply a provincial lioness, or +"advanced" after Kukshina's fashion--any way she's got a pair of +shoulders such as I've not set eyes on for a long while.' + +Arkady was wounded by Bazarov's cynicism, but--as often happens--he +reproached his friend not precisely for what he did not like in him ... + +'Why are you unwilling to allow freethinking in women?' he said in a +low voice. + +'Because, my boy, as far as my observations go, the only freethinkers +among women are frights.' + +The conversation was cut short at this point. Both the young men went +away immediately after supper. They were pursued by a nervously +malicious, but somewhat faint-hearted laugh from Madame Kukshin; her +vanity had been deeply wounded by neither of them having paid any +attention to her. She stayed later than any one at the ball, and at +four o'clock in the morning she was dancing a polka-mazurka with +Sitnikov in the Parisian style. This edifying spectacle was the final +event of the Governor's ball. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +'Let's see what species of mammalia this specimen belongs to,' Bazarov +said to Arkady the following day, as they mounted the staircase of the +hotel in which Madame Odintsov was staying. 'I scent out something +wrong here.' + +'I'm surprised at you!' cried Arkady. 'What? You, you, Bazarov, +clinging to the narrow morality, which ...' + +'What a funny fellow you are!' Bazarov cut him short, carelessly. +'Don't you know that "something wrong" means "something right" in my +dialect and for me? It's an advantage for me, of course. Didn't you +tell me yourself this morning that she made a strange marriage, though, +to my mind, to marry a rich old man is by no means a strange thing to +do, but, on the contrary, very sensible. I don't believe the gossip of +the town; but I should like to think, as our cultivated Governor says, +that it's well-grounded.' + +Arkady made no answer, and knocked at the door of the apartments. A +young servant in livery, conducted the two friends in to a large room, +badly furnished, like all rooms in Russian hotels, but filled with +flowers. Soon Madame Odintsov herself appeared in a simple morning +dress. She seemed still younger by the light of the spring sunshine. +Arkady presented Bazarov, and noticed with secret amazement that he +seemed embarrassed, while Madame Odintsov remained perfectly tranquil, +as she had been the previous day. Bazarov himself was conscious of +being embarrassed, and was irritated by it. 'Here's a go!--frightened +of a petticoat!' he thought, and lolling, quite like Sitnikov, in an +easy-chair, he began talking with an exaggerated appearance of ease, +while Madame Odintsov kept her clear eyes fixed on him. + +Anna Sergyevna Odintsov was the daughter of Sergay Nikolaevitch Loktev, +notorious for his personal beauty, his speculations, and his gambling +propensities, who after cutting a figure and making a sensation for +fifteen years in Petersburg and Moscow, finished by ruining himself +completely at cards, and was forced to retire to the country, where, +however, he soon after died, leaving a very small property to his two +daughters--Anna, a girl of twenty, and Katya, a child of twelve. Their +mother, who came of an impoverished line of princes--the H----s-- had +died at Petersburg when her husband was in his heydey. Anna's position +after her father's death was very difficult. The brilliant education +she had received in Petersburg had not fitted her for putting up with +the cares of domestic life and economy,--for an obscure existence in +the country. She knew positively no one in the whole neighbourhood, and +there was no one she could consult. Her father had tried to avoid all +contact with the neighbours; he despised them in his way, and they +despised him in theirs. She did not lose her head, however, and +promptly sent for a sister of her mother's Princess Avdotya Stepanovna +H----, a spiteful and arrogant old lady, who, on installing herself in +her niece's house, appropriated all the best rooms for her own use, +scolded and grumbled from morning till night, and would not go a walk +even in the garden unattended by her one serf, a surly footman in a +threadbare pea-green livery with light blue trimming and a +three-cornered hat. Anna put up patiently with all her aunt's whims, +gradually set to work on her sister's education, and was, it seemed, +already getting reconciled to the idea of wasting her life in the +wilds.... But destiny had decreed another fate for her. She chanced to +be seen by Odintsov, a very wealthy man of forty-six, an eccentric +hypochondriac, stout, heavy, and sour, but not stupid, and not +ill-natured; he fell in love with her, and offered her his hand. She +consented to become his wife, and he lived six years with her, and on +his death settled all his property upon her. Anna Sergyevna remained in +the country for nearly a year after his death; then she went abroad +with her sister, but only stopped in Germany; she got tired of it, and +came back to live at her favourite Nikolskoe, which was nearly thirty +miles from the town of X----. There she had a magnificent, splendidly +furnished house and a beautiful garden, with conservatories; her late +husband had spared no expense to gratify his fancies. Anna Sergyevna +went very rarely to the town, generally only on business, and even then +she did not stay long. She was not liked in the province; there had +been a fearful outcry at her marriage with Odintsov, all sorts of +fictions were told about her; it was asserted that she had helped her +father in his cardsharping tricks, and even that she had gone abroad +for excellent reasons, that it had been necessary to conceal the +lamentable consequences ... 'You understand?' the indignant gossips +would wind up. 'She has gone through the fire,' was said of her; to +which a noted provincial wit usually added: 'And through all the other +elements?' All this talk reached her; but she turned a deaf ear to it; +there was much independence and a good deal of determination in her +character. + +Madame Odintsov sat leaning back in her easy-chair, and listened with +folded hands to Bazarov. He, contrary to his habit, was talking a good +deal, and obviously trying to interest her--again a surprise for +Arkady. He could not make up his mind whether Bazarov was attaining his +object. It was difficult to conjecture from Anna Sergyevna's face what +impression was being made on her; it retained the same expression, +gracious and refined; her beautiful eyes were lighted up by attention, +but by quiet attention. Bazarov's bad manners had impressed her +unpleasantly for the first minutes of the visit like a bad smell or a +discordant sound; but she saw at once that he was nervous, and that +even flattered her. Nothing was repulsive to her but vulgarity, and no +one could have accused Bazarov of vulgarity. Arkady was fated to meet +with surprises that day. He had expected that Bazarov would talk to a +clever woman like Madame Odintsov about his opinions and his views; she +had herself expressed a desire to listen to the man 'who dares to have +no belief in anything'; but, instead of that, Bazarov talked about +medicine, about homoeopathy, and about botany. It turned out that +Madame Odintsov had not wasted her time in solitude; she had read a +good many excellent books, and spoke herself in excellent Russian. She +turned the conversation upon music; but noticing that Bazarov did not +appreciate art, she quietly brought it back to botany, even though +Arkady was just launching into a discourse upon the significance of +national melodies. Madame Odintsov treated him as though he were a +younger brother; she seemed to appreciate his good-nature and youthful +simplicity--and that was all. For over three hours, a lively +conversation was kept up, ranging freely over various subjects. + +The friends at last got up and began to take leave. Anna Sergyevna +looked cordially at them, held out her beautiful, white hand to both, +and, after a moment's thought, said with a doubtful but delightful +smile. 'If you are not afraid of being dull, gentlemen, come and see me +at Nikolskoe.' + +'Oh, Anna Sergyevna,' cried Arkady, 'I shall think it the greatness +happiness ...' + +'And you, Monsieur Bazarov?' + +Bazarov only bowed, and a last surprise was in store for Arkady; he +noticed that his friend was blushing. + +'Well?' he said to him in the street; 'are you still of the same +opinion--that she's ...' + +'Who can tell? See how correct she is!' retorted Bazarov; and after a +brief pause he added, 'She's a perfect grand-duchess, a royal +personage. She only needs a train on behind, and a crown on her head.' + +'Our grand-duchesses don't talk Russian like that,' remarked Arkady. + +'She's seen ups and downs, my dear boy; she's known what it is to be +hard up!' + +'Any way, she's charming,' observed Arkady. + +'What a magnificent body!' pursued Bazarov. 'Shouldn't I like to see it +on the dissecting-table.' + +'Hush, for mercy's sake, Yevgeny! that's beyond everything.' + +'Well, don't get angry, you baby. I meant it's first-rate. We must go +to stay with her.' + +'When?' + +'Well, why not the day after to-morrow. What is there to do here? Drink +champagne with Kukshina. Listen to your cousin, the Liberal +dignitary?... Let's be off the day after to-morrow. By the way, too--my +father's little place is not far from there. This Nikolskoe's on the +S---- road, isn't it?' + +'Yes.' + +'Optime, why hesitate? leave that to fools and prigs! I say, what a +splendid body!' + +Three days later the two friends were driving along the road to +Nikolskoe. The day was bright, and not too hot, and the sleek +posting-horses trotted smartly along, switching their tied and plaited +tails. Arkady looked at the road, and not knowing why, he smiled. + +'Congratulate me,' cried Bazarov suddenly, 'to-day's the 22nd of June, +my guardian angel's day. Let's see how he will watch over me. To-day +they expect me home,' he added, dropping his voice.... 'Well, they can +go on expecting.... What does it matter!' + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +The country-house in which Anna Sergyevna lived stood on an exposed +hill at no great distance from a yellow stone church with a green roof, +white columns, and a fresco over the principal entrance representing +the 'Resurrection of Christ' in the 'Italian' style. Sprawling in the +foreground of the picture was a swarthy warrior in a helmet, specially +conspicuous for his rotund contours. Behind the church a long village +stretched in two rows, with chimneys peeping out here and there above +the thatched roofs. The manor-house was built in the same style as the +church, the style known among us as that of Alexander; the house too +was painted yellow, and had a green roof, and white columns, and a +pediment with an escutcheon on it. The architect had designed both +buildings with the approval of the deceased Odintsov, who could not +endure--as he expressed it--idle and arbitrary innovations. The house +was enclosed on both sides by the dark trees of an old garden; an +avenue of lopped pines led up to the entrance. + +Our friends were met in the hall by two tall footmen in livery; one of +them at once ran for the steward. The steward, a stout man in a black +dress coat, promptly appeared and led the visitors by a staircase +covered with rugs to a special room, in which two bedsteads were +already prepared for them with all necessaries for the toilet. It was +clear that order reigned supreme in the house; everything was clean, +everywhere there was a peculiar delicate fragrance, just as there is in +the reception rooms of ministers. + +'Anna Sergyevna asks you to come to her in half-an-hour,' the steward +announced; 'will there be orders to give meanwhile?' + +'No orders,' answered Bazarov; 'perhaps you will be so good as to +trouble yourself to bring me a glass of vodka.' + +'Yes, sir,' said the steward, looking in some perplexity, and he +withdrew, his boots creaking as he walked. + +'What _grand genre_!' remarked Bazarov. 'That's what it's called in +your set, isn't it? She's a grand-duchess, and that's all about it.' + +'A nice grand-duchess,' retorted Arkady, 'at the very first meeting she +invited such great aristocrats as you and me to stay with her.' + +'Especially me, a future doctor, and a doctor's son, and a village +sexton's grandson.... You know, I suppose, I'm the grandson of a +sexton? Like the great Speransky,' added Bazarov after a brief pause, +contracting his lips. 'At any rate she likes to be comfortable; oh, +doesn't she, this lady! Oughtn't we to put on evening dress?' + +Arkady only shrugged his shoulders ... but he too was conscious of a +little nervousness. + +Half-an-hour later Bazarov and Arkady went together into the +drawing-room. It was a large lofty room, furnished rather luxuriously +but without particularly good taste. Heavy expensive furniture stood in +the ordinary stiff arrangement along the walls, which were covered with +cinnamon-coloured paper with gold flowers on it; Odintsov had ordered +the furniture from Moscow through a friend and agent of his, a spirit +merchant. Over a sofa in the centre of one wall hung a portrait of a +faded light-haired man--and it seemed to look with displeasure at the +visitors. 'It must be the late lamented,' Bazarov whispered to Arkady, +and turning up his nose, he added, 'Hadn't we better bolt ...?' But at +that instant the lady of the house entered. She wore a light barège +dress; her hair smoothly combed back behind her ears gave a girlish +expression to her pure and fresh face. + +'Thank you for keeping your promise,' she began. 'You must stay a +little while with me; it's really not bad here. I will introduce you to +my sister; she plays the piano well. That is a matter of indifference +to you, Monsieur Bazarov; but you, I think, Monsieur Kirsanov, are fond +of music. Besides my sister I have an old aunt living with me, and one +of our neighbours comes in sometimes to play cards; that makes up all +our circle. And now let us sit down.' + +Madame Odintsov delivered all this little speech with peculiar +precision, as though she had learned it by heart; then she turned to +Arkady. It appeared that her mother had known Arkady's mother, and had +even been her confidante in her love for Nikolai Petrovitch. Arkady +began talking with great warmth of his dead mother; while Bazarov fell +to turning over albums. 'What a tame cat I'm getting!' he was thinking +to himself. + +A beautiful greyhound with a blue collar on, ran into the drawing-room, +tapping on the floor with his paws, and after him entered a girl of +eighteen, black-haired and dark-skinned, with a rather round but +pleasing face, and small dark eyes. In her hands she held a basket +filled with flowers. + +'This is my Katya,' said Madame Odintsov, indicating her with a motion +of her head. Katya made a slight curtsey, placed herself beside her +sister, and began picking out flowers. The greyhound, whose name was +Fifi, went up to both of the visitors, in turn wagging his tail, and +thrusting his cold nose into their hands. + +'Did you pick all that yourself?' asked Madame Odintsov. + +'Yes,' answered Katya. + +'Is auntie coming to tea?' + +'Yes.' + +When Katya spoke, she had a very charming smile, sweet, timid, and +candid, and looked up from under her eyebrows with a sort of humorous +severity. Everything about her was still young and undeveloped; the +voice, and the bloom on her whole face, and the rosy hands, with white +palms, and the rather narrow shoulders.... She was constantly blushing +and getting out of breath. + +Madame Odintsov turned to Bazarov. 'You are looking at pictures from +politeness, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' she began. That does not interest +you. You had better come nearer to us, and let us have a discussion +about something.' + +Bazarov went closer. 'What subject have you decided upon for +discussion?' he said. + +'What you like. I warn you, I am dreadfully argumentative.' + +'You?' + +'Yes. That seems to surprise you. Why?' + +'Because, as far as I can judge, you have a calm, cool character, and +one must be impulsive to be argumentative.' + +'How can you have had time to understand me so soon? In the first +place, I am impatient and obstinate--you should ask Katya; and +secondly, I am very easily carried away.' + +Bazarov looked at Anna Sergyevna. 'Perhaps; you must know best. And so +you are inclined for a discussion--by all means. I was looking through +the views of the Saxon mountains in your album, and you remarked that +that couldn't interest me. You said so, because you suppose me to have +no feeling for art, and as a fact I haven't any; but these views might +be interesting to me from a geological standpoint, for the formation of +the mountains, for instance.' + +'Excuse me; but as a geologist, you would sooner have recourse to a +book, to a special work on the subject, and not to a drawing.' + +'The drawing shows me at a glance what would be spread over ten pages +in a book.' + +Anna Sergyevna was silent for a little. + +'And so you haven't the least artistic feeling?' she observed, putting +her elbow on the table, and by that very action bringing her face +nearer to Bazarov. 'How can you get on without it?' + +'Why, what is it wanted for, may I ask?' + +'Well, at least to enable one to study and understand men.' + +Bazarov smiled. 'In the first place, experience of life does that; and +in the second, I assure you, studying separate individuals is not worth +the trouble. All people are like one another, in soul as in body; each +of us has brain, spleen, heart, and lungs made alike; and the so-called +moral qualities are the same in all; the slight variations are of no +importance. A single human specimen is sufficient to judge of all by. +People are like trees in a forest; no botanist would think of studying +each individual birch-tree.' + +Katya, who was arranging the flowers, one at a time in a leisurely +fashion, lifted her eyes to Bazarov with a puzzled look, and meeting +his rapid and careless glance, she crimsoned up to her ears. Anna +Sergyevna shook her head. + +'The trees in a forest,' she repeated. 'Then according to you there is +no difference between the stupid and the clever person, between the +good-natured and ill-natured?' + +'No, there is a difference, just as between the sick and the healthy. +The lungs of a consumptive patient are not in the same condition as +yours and mine, though they are made on the same plan. We know +approximately what physical diseases come from; moral diseases come +from bad education, from all the nonsense people's heads are stuffed +with from childhood up, from the defective state of society; in short, +reform society, and there will be no diseases.' + +Bazarov said all this with an air, as though he were all the while +thinking to himself, 'Believe me or not, as you like, it's all one to +me!' He slowly passed his fingers over his whiskers, while his eyes +strayed about the room. + +'And you conclude,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'that when society is +reformed, there will be no stupid nor wicked people?' + +'At any rate, in a proper organisation of society, it will be +absolutely the same whether a man is stupid or clever, wicked or good.' + +'Yes, I understand; they will all have the same spleen.' + +'Precisely so, madam.' + +Madame Odintsov turned to Arkady. 'And what is your opinion, Arkady +Nikolaevitch?' + +'I agree with Yevgeny,' he answered. + +Katya looked up at him from under her eyelids. + +'You amaze me, gentlemen,' commented Madame Odintsov, 'but we will have +more talk together. But now I hear my aunt coming to tea; we must spare +her.' + +Anna Sergyevna's aunt, Princess H----, a thin little woman with a +pinched-up face, drawn together like a fist, and staring +ill-natured-looking eyes under a grey front, came in, and, scarcely +bowing to the guests, she dropped into a wide velvet covered arm-chair, +upon which no one but herself was privileged to sit. Katya put a +footstool under her feet; the old lady did not thank her, did not even +look at her, only her hands shook under the yellow shawl, which almost +covered her feeble body. The Princess liked yellow; her cap, too, had +bright yellow ribbons. + +'How have you slept, aunt?' inquired Madame Odintsov, raising her +voice. + +'That dog in here again,' the old lady muttered in reply, and noticing +Fifi was making two hesitating steps in her direction, she cried, +'Ss----ss!' + +Katya called Fifi and opened the door for him. + +Fifi rushed out delighted, in the expectation of being taken out for a +walk; but when he was left alone outside the door, he began scratching +and whining. The princess scowled. Katya was about to go out.... + +'I expect tea is ready,' said Madame Odintsov. + +'Come gentlemen; aunt, will you go in to tea?' + +The princess got up from her chair without speaking and led the way out +of the drawing-room. They all followed her in to the dining-room. A +little page in livery drew back, with a scraping sound, from the table, +an arm-chair covered with cushions, devoted to the princess's use; she +sank into it; Katya in pouring out the tea handed her first a cup +emblazoned with a heraldic crest. The old lady put some honey in her +cup (she considered it both sinful and extravagant to drink tea with +sugar in it, though she never spent a farthing herself on anything), +and suddenly asked in a hoarse voice, 'And what does Prince Ivan +write?' + +No one made her any reply. Bazarov and Arkady soon guessed that they +paid no attention to her though they treated her respectfully. + +'Because of her grand family,' thought Bazarov.... + +After tea, Anna Sergyevna suggested they should go out for a walk; but +it began to rain a little, and the whole party, with the exception of +the princess, returned to the drawing-room. The neighbour, the devoted +card-player, arrived; his name was Porfiry Platonitch, a stoutish, +greyish man with short, spindly legs, very polite and ready to be +amused. Anna Sergyevna, who still talked principally with Bazarov, +asked him whether he'd like to try a contest with them in the +old-fashioned way at preference? Bazarov assented, saying 'that he +ought to prepare himself beforehand for the duties awaiting him as a +country doctor.' + +'You must be careful,' observed Anna Sergyevna; 'Porfiry Platonitch and +I will beat you. And you, Katya,' she added, 'play something to Arkady +Nikolaevitch; he is fond of music, and we can listen, too.' + +Katya went unwillingly to the piano; and Arkady, though he certainly +was fond of music, unwillingly followed her; it seemed to him that +Madame Odintsov was sending him away, and already, like every young man +at his age, he felt a vague and oppressive emotion surging up in his +heart, like the forebodings of love. Katya raised the top of the piano, +and not looking at Arkady, she said in a low voice-- + +'What am I to play you?' + +'What you like,' answered Arkady indifferently. + +'What sort of music do you like best?' repeated Katya, without changing +her attitude. + +'Classical,' Arkady answered in the same tone of voice. + +'Do you like Mozart?' + +'Yes, I like Mozart.' + +Katya pulled out Mozart's Sonata-Fantasia in C minor. She played very +well, though rather over correctly and precisely. She sat upright and +immovable, her eyes fixed on the notes, and her lips tightly +compressed, only at the end of the sonata her face glowed, her hair +came loose, and a little lock fell on to her dark brow. + +Arkady was particularly struck by the last part of the sonata, the part +in which, in the midst of the bewitching gaiety of the careless melody, +the pangs of such mournful, almost tragic suffering, suddenly break +in.... But the ideas stirred in him by Mozart's music had no reference +to Katya. Looking at her, he simply thought, 'Well, that young lady +doesn't play badly, and she's not bad-looking either.' + +When she had finished the sonata, Katya without taking her hands from +the keys, asked, 'Is that enough?' Arkady declared that he could not +venture to trouble her again, and began talking to her about Mozart; he +asked her whether she had chosen that sonata herself, or some one had +recommended it to her. But Katya answered him in monosyllables; she +withdrew into herself, went back into her shell. When this happened to +her, she did not very quickly come out again; her face even assumed at +such times an obstinate, almost stupid expression. She was not exactly +shy, but diffident, and rather overawed by her sister, who had educated +her, and who had no suspicion of the fact. Arkady was reduced at last +to calling Fifi to him, and with an affable smile patting him on the +head to give himself an appearance of being at home. + +Katya set to work again upon her flowers. + +Bazarov meanwhile was losing and losing. Anna Sergyevna played cards in +masterly fashion; Porfiry Platonitch, too, could hold his own in the +game. Bazarov lost a sum which, though trifling in itself, was not +altogether pleasant for him. At supper Anna Sergyevna again turned the +conversation on botany. + +'We will go for a walk to-morrow morning,' she said to him; 'I want you +to teach me the Latin names of the wild flowers and their species.' + +'What use are the Latin names to you?' asked Bazarov. + +'Order is needed in everything,' she answered. + +'What an exquisite woman Anna Sergyevna is!' cried Arkady, when he was +alone with his friend in the room assigned to them. + +'Yes,' answered Bazarov, 'a female with brains. Yes, and she's seen +life too.' + +'In what sense do you mean that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?' + +'In a good sense, a good sense, my dear friend, Arkady Nikolaevitch! +I'm convinced she manages her estate capitally too. But what's splendid +is not her, but her sister.' + +'What, that little dark thing?' + +'Yes, that little dark thing. She now is fresh and untouched, and shy +and silent, and anything you like. She's worth educating and +developing. You might make something fine out of her; but the +other's--a stale loaf.' + +Arkady made no reply to Bazarov, and each of them got into bed with +rather singular thoughts in his head. + +Anna Sergyevna, too, thought of her guests that evening. She liked +Bazarov for the absence of gallantry in him, and even for his sharply +defined views. She found in him something new, which she had not +chanced to meet before, and she was curious. + +Anna Sergyevna was a rather strange creature. Having no prejudices of +any kind, having no strong convictions even, she never gave way or went +out of her way for anything. She had seen many things very clearly; she +had been interested in many things, but nothing had completely +satisfied her; indeed, she hardly desired complete satisfaction. Her +intellect was at the same time inquiring and indifferent; her doubts +were never soothed to forgetfulness, and they never grew strong enough +to distract her. Had she not been rich and independent, she would +perhaps have thrown herself into the struggle, and have known passion. +But life was easy for her, though she was bored at times, and she went +on passing day after day with deliberation, never in a hurry, placid, +and only rarely disturbed. Dreams sometimes danced in rainbow colours +before her eyes even, but she breathed more freely when they died away, +and did not regret them. Her imagination indeed overstepped the limits +of what is reckoned permissible by conventional morality; but even then +her blood flowed as quietly as ever in her fascinatingly graceful, +tranquil body. Sometimes coming out of her fragrant bath all warm and +enervated, she would fall to musing on the nothingness of life, the +sorrow, the labour, the malice of it.... Her soul would be filled with +sudden daring, and would flow with generous ardour, but a draught would +blow from a half-closed window, and Anna Sergyevna would shrink into +herself, and feel plaintive and almost angry, and there was only one +thing she cared for at that instant--to get away from that horrid +draught. + +Like all women who have not succeeded in loving, she wanted something, +without herself knowing what. Strictly speaking, she wanted nothing; +but it seemed to her that she wanted everything. She could hardly +endure the late Odintsov (she had married him from prudential motives, +though probably she would not have consented to become his wife if she +had not considered him a good sort of man), and had conceived a secret +repugnance for all men, whom she could only figure to herself as +slovenly, heavy, drowsy, and feebly importunate creatures. Once, +somewhere abroad, she had met a handsome young Swede, with a chivalrous +expression, with honest blue eyes under an open brow; he had made a +powerful impression on her, but it had not prevented her from going +back to Russia. + +'A strange man this doctor!' she thought as she lay in her luxurious +bed on lace pillows under a light silk coverlet.... Anna Sergyevna had +inherited from her father a little of his inclination for splendour. +She had fondly loved her sinful but good-natured father, and he had +idolised her, used to joke with her in a friendly way as though she +were an equal, and to confide in her fully, to ask her advice. Her +mother she scarcely remembered. + +'This doctor is a strange man!' she repeated to herself. She stretched, +smiled, clasped her hands behind her head, then ran her eyes over two +pages of a stupid French novel, dropped the book--and fell asleep, all +pure and cold, in her pure and fragrant linen. + +The following morning Anna Sergyevna went off botanising with Bazarov +directly after lunch, and returned just before dinner; Arkady did not +go off anywhere, and spent about an hour with Katya. He was not bored +with her; she offered of herself to repeat the sonata of the day +before; but when Madame Odintsov came back at last, when he caught +sight of her, he felt an instantaneous pang at his heart. She came +through the garden with a rather tired step; her cheeks were glowing +and her eyes shining more brightly than usual under her round straw +hat. She was twirling in her fingers the thin stalk of a wildflower, a +light mantle had slipped down to her elbows, and the wide gray ribbons +of her hat were clinging to her bosom. Bazarov walked behind her, +self-confident and careless as usual, but the expression of his face, +cheerful and even friendly as it was, did not please Arkady. Muttering +between his teeth, 'Good-morning!' Bazarov went away to his room, while +Madame Odintsov shook Arkady's hand abstractedly, and also walked past +him. + +'Good-morning!' thought Arkady ... 'As though we had not seen each +other already to-day!' + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Time, it is well known, sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls +like a worm; but man is wont to be particularly happy when he does not +even notice whether it passes quickly or slowly. It was in that way +Arkady and Bazarov spent a fortnight at Madame Odintsov's. The good +order she had established in her house and in her life partly +contributed to this result. She adhered strictly to this order herself, +and forced others to submit to it. Everything during the day was done +at a fixed time. In the morning, precisely at eight o'clock, all the +party assembled for tea; from morning-tea till lunch-time every one did +what he pleased, the hostess herself was engaged with her bailiff (the +estate was on the rent-system), her steward, and her head housekeeper. +Before dinner the party met again for conversation or reading; the +evening was devoted to walking, cards, and music; at half-past ten Anna +Sergyevna retired to her own room, gave her orders for the following +day, and went to bed. Bazarov did not like this measured, somewhat +ostentatious punctuality in daily life, 'like moving along rails,' he +pronounced it to be; the footmen in livery, the decorous stewards, +offended his democratic sentiments. He declared that if one went so +far, one might as well dine in the English style at once--in tail-coats +and white ties. He once spoke plainly upon the subject to Anna +Sergyevna. Her attitude was such that no one hesitated to speak his +mind freely before her. She heard him out; and then her comment was, +'From your point of view, you are right--and perhaps, in that respect, +I am too much of a lady; but there's no living in the country without +order, one would be devoured by ennui,' and she continued to go her own +way. Bazarov grumbled, but the very reason life was so easy for him and +Arkady at Madame Odintsov's was that everything in the house 'moved on +rails.' For all that, a change had taken place in both the young men +since the first days of their stay at Nikolskoe. Bazarov, in whom Anna +Sergyevna was obviously interested, though she seldom agreed with him, +began to show signs of an unrest, unprecedented in him; he was easily +put out of temper, and unwilling to talk, he looked irritated, and +could not sit still in one place, just as though he were possessed by +some secret longing; while Arkady, who had made up his mind +conclusively that he was in love with Madame Odintsov, had begun to +yield to a gentle melancholy. This melancholy did not, however, prevent +him from becoming friendly with Katya; it even impelled him to get into +friendly, affectionate terms with her. '_She_ does not appreciate me? +So be it!... But here is a good creature, who does not repulse me,' he +thought, and his heart again knew the sweetness of magnanimous +emotions. Katya vaguely realised that he was seeking a sort of +consolation in her company, and did not deny him or herself the +innocent pleasure of a half-shy, half-confidential friendship. They did +not talk to each other in Anna Sergyevna's presence; Katya always +shrank into herself under her sister's sharp eyes; while Arkady, as +befits a man in love, could pay attention to nothing else when near the +object of his passion; but he was happy with Katya alone. He was +conscious that he did not possess the power to interest Madame +Odintsov; he was shy and at a loss when he was left alone with her, and +she did not know what to say to him, he was too young for her. With +Katya, on the other hand, Arkady felt at home; he treated her +condescendingly, encouraged her to express the impressions made on her +by music, reading novels, verses, and other such trifles, without +noticing or realising that these trifles were what interested him too. +Katya, on her side, did not try to drive away melancholy. Arkady was at +his ease with Katya, Madame Odintsov with Bazarov, and thus it usually +came to pass that the two couples, after being a little while together, +went off on their separate ways, especially during the walks. Katya +adored nature, and Arkady loved it, though he did not dare to +acknowledge it; Madame Odintsov was, like Bazarov, rather indifferent +to the beauties of nature. The almost continual separation of the two +friends was not without its consequences; the relations between them +began to change. Bazarov gave up talking to Arkady about Madame +Odintsov, gave up even abusing her 'aristocratic ways'; Katya, it is +true, he praised as before, and only advised him to restrain her +sentimental tendencies, but his praises were hurried, his advice dry, +and in general he talked less to Arkady than before ... he seemed to +avoid him, seemed ill at ease with him. + +Arkady observed it all, but he kept his observations to himself. + +The real cause of all this 'newness' was the feeling inspired in +Bazarov by Madame Odintsov, a feeling which tortured and maddened him, +and which he would at once have denied, with scornful laughter and +cynical abuse, if any one had ever so remotely hinted at the +possibility of what was taking place in him. Bazarov had a great love +for women and for feminine beauty; but love in the ideal, or, as he +expressed it, romantic sense, he called lunacy, unpardonable +imbecility; he regarded chivalrous sentiments as something of the +nature of deformity or disease, and had more than once expressed his +wonder that Toggenburg and all the minnesingers and troubadours had not +been put into a lunatic asylum. 'If a woman takes your fancy,' he used +to say, 'try and gain your end; but if you can't--well, turn your back +on her--there are lots of good fish in the sea.' Madame Odintsov had +taken his fancy; the rumours about her, the freedom and independence of +her ideas, her unmistakable liking for him, all seemed to be in his +favour, but he soon saw that with her he would not 'gain his ends,' and +to turn his back on her he found, to his own bewilderment, beyond his +power. His blood was on fire directly if he merely thought of her; he +could easily have mastered his blood, but something else was taking +root in him, something he had never admitted, at which he had always +jeered, at which all his pride revolted. In his conversations with Anna +Sergyevna he expressed more strongly than ever his calm contempt for +everything idealistic; but when he was alone, with indignation he +recognised idealism in himself. Then he would set off to the forest and +walk with long strides about it, smashing the twigs that came in his +way, and cursing under his breath both her and himself; or he would get +into the hay-loft in the barn, and, obstinately closing his eyes, try +to force himself to sleep, in which, of course, he did not always +succeed. Suddenly his fancy would bring before him those chaste hands +twining one day about his neck, those proud lips responding to his +kisses, those intellectual eyes dwelling with tenderness--yes, with +tenderness--on his, and his head went round, and he forgot himself for +an instant, till indignation boiled up in him again. He caught himself +in all sorts of 'shameful' thoughts, as though he were driven on by a +devil mocking him. Sometimes he fancied that there was a change taking +place in Madame Odintsov too; that there were signs in the expression +of her face of something special; that, perhaps ... but at that point +he would stamp, or grind his teeth, and clench his fists. + +Meanwhile Bazarov was not altogether mistaken. He had struck Madame +Odintsov's imagination; he interested her, she thought a great deal +about him. In his absence, she was not dull, she was not impatient for +his coming, but she always grew more lively on his appearance; she +liked to be left alone with him, and she liked talking to him, even +when he irritated her or offended her taste, her refined habits. She +was, as it were, eager at once to sound him and to analyse herself. + +One day walking in the garden with her, he suddenly announced, in a +surly voice, that he intended going to his father's place very soon.... +She turned white, as though something had given her a pang, and such a +pang, that she wondered and pondered long after, what could be the +meaning of it. Bazarov had spoken of his departure with no idea of +putting her to the test, of seeing what would come of it; he never +'fabricated.' On the morning of that day he had an interview with his +father's bailiff, who had taken care of him when he was a child, +Timofeitch. This Timofeitch, a little old man of much experience and +astuteness, with faded yellow hair, a weather-beaten red face, and tiny +tear-drops in his shrunken eyes, unexpectedly appeared before Bazarov, +in his shortish overcoat of stout greyish-blue cloth, girt with a strip +of leather, and in tarred boots. + +'Hullo, old man; how are you?' cried Bazarov. + +'How do you do, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?' began the little old man, and he +smiled with delight, so that his whole face was all at once covered +with wrinkles. + +'What have you come for? They sent for me, eh?' + +'Upon my word, sir, how could we?' mumbled Timofeitch. (He remembered +the strict injunctions he had received from his master on starting.) +'We were sent to the town on business, and we'd heard news of your +honour, so here we turned off on our way, that's to say--to have a look +at your honour ... as if we could think of disturbing you!' + +'Come, don't tell lies!' Bazarov cut him short. 'Is this the road to +the town, do you mean to tell me?' Timofeitch hesitated, and made no +answer. 'Is my father well?' + +'Thank God, yes.' + +'And my mother?' + +'Anna Vlasyevna too, glory be to God.' + +'They are expecting me, I suppose?' + +The little old man held his tiny head on one side. + +'Ah, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, it makes one's heart ache to see them; it +does really.' + +'Come, all right, all right! shut up! Tell them I'm coming soon.' + +'Yes, sir,' answered Timofeitch, with a sigh. + +As he went out of the house, he pulled his cap down on his head with +both hands, clambered into a wretched-looking racing droshky, and went +off at a trot, but not in the direction of the town. + +On the evening of the same day, Madame Odintsov was sitting in her own +room with Bazarov, while Arkady walked up and down the hall listening +to Katya's playing. The princess had gone upstairs to her own room; she +could not bear guests as a rule, and 'especially this new riff-raff +lot,' as she called them. In the common rooms she only sulked; but she +made up for it in her own room by breaking out into such abuse before +her maid that the cap danced on her head, wig and all. Madame Odintsov +was well aware of all this. + +'How is it you are proposing to leave us?' she began; 'how about your +promise?' + +Bazarov started. 'What promise?' + +'Have you forgotten? You meant to give me some lessons in chemistry.' + +'It can't be helped! My father expects me; I can't loiter any longer. +However, you can read Pelouse et Frémy, _Notions générales de Chimie_; +it's a good book, and clearly written. You will find everything you +need in it.' + +'But do you remember; you assured me a book cannot take the place of +... I've forgotten how you put it, but you know what I mean ... do you +remember?' + +'It can't be helped!' repeated Bazarov. + +'Why go away?' said Madame Odintsov, dropping her voice. + +He glanced at her. Her head had fallen on to the back of her +easy-chair, and her arms, bare to the elbow, were folded on her bosom. +She seemed paler in the light of the single lamp covered with a +perforated paper shade. An ample white gown hid her completely in its +soft folds; even the tips of her feet, also crossed, were hardly seen. + +'And why stay?' answered Bazarov. + +Madame Odintsov turned her head slightly. 'You ask why. Have you not +enjoyed yourself with me? Or do you suppose you will not be missed +here?' + +'I am sure of it.' + +Madame Odintsov was silent a minute. 'You are wrong in thinking that. +But I don't believe you. You could not say that seriously.' Bazarov +still sat immovable. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why don't you speak?' + +'Why, what am I to say to you? People are not generally worth being +missed, and I less than most.' + +'Why so?' + +'I'm a practical, uninteresting person. I don't know how to talk.' + +'You are fishing, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.' + +'That's not a habit of mine. Don't you know yourself that I've nothing +in common with the elegant side of life, the side you prize so much?' + +Madame Odintsov bit the corner of her handkerchief. + +'You may think what you like, but I shall be dull when you go away.' + +'Arkady will remain,' remarked Bazarov. Madame Odintsov shrugged her +shoulders slightly. 'I shall be dull,' she repeated. + +'Really? In any case you will not feel dull for long.' + +'What makes you suppose that?' + +'Because you told me yourself that you are only dull when your regular +routine is broken in upon. You have ordered your existence with such +unimpeachable regularity that there can be no place in it for dulness +or sadness ... for any unpleasant emotions.' + +'And do you consider I am so unimpeachable ... that's to say, that I +have ordered my life with such regularity?' + +'I should think so. Here's an example; in a few minutes it will strike +ten, and I know beforehand that you will drive me away.' + +'No; I'm not going to drive you away, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You may +stay. Open that window.... I feel half-stifled.' + +Bazarov got up and gave a push to the window. It flew up with a loud +crash.... He had not expected it to open so easily; besides, his hands +were shaking. The soft, dark night looked in to the room with its +almost black sky, its faintly rustling trees, and the fresh fragrance +of the pure open air. + +'Draw the blind and sit down,' said Madame Odintsov; 'I want to have a +talk with you before you go away. Tell me something about yourself; you +never talk about yourself.' + +'I try to talk to you upon improving subjects, Anna Sergyevna.' + +'You are very modest.... But I should like to know something about you, +about your family, about your father, for whom you are forsaking us.' + +'Why is she talking like that?' thought Bazarov. + +'All that's not in the least interesting,' he uttered aloud, +'especially for you; we are obscure people....' + +'And you regard me as an aristocrat?' + +Bazarov lifted his eyes to Madame Odintsov. + +'Yes,' he said, with exaggerated sharpness. + +She smiled. 'I see you know me very little, though you do maintain that +all people are alike, and it's not worth while to study them. I will +tell you my life some time or other ... but first you tell me yours.' + +'I know you very little,' repeated Bazarov. 'Perhaps you are right; +perhaps, really, every one is a riddle. You, for instance; you avoid +society, you are oppressed by it, and you have invited two students to +stay with you. What makes you, with your intellect, with your beauty, +live in the country?' + +'What? What was it you said?' Madame Odintsov interposed eagerly. 'With +my ... beauty?' + +Bazarov scowled. 'Never mind that,' he muttered; 'I meant to say that I +don't exactly understand why you have settled in the country?' + +'You don't understand it.... But you explain it to yourself in some +way?' + +'Yes ... I assume that you remain continually in the same place because +you indulge yourself, because you are very fond of comfort and ease, +and very indifferent to everything else.' + +Madame Odintsov smiled again. 'You would absolutely refuse to believe +that I am capable of being carried away by anything?' + +Bazarov glanced at her from under his brows. + +'By curiosity, perhaps; but not otherwise.' + +'Really? Well, now I understand why we are such friends; you are just +like me, you see.' + +'We are such friends ...' Bazarov articulated in a choked voice. + +'Yes!... Why, I'd forgotten you wanted to go away.' + +Bazarov got up. The lamp burnt dimly in the middle of the dark, +luxurious, isolated room; from time to time the blind was shaken, and +there flowed in the freshness of the insidious night; there was heard +its mysterious whisperings. Madame Odintsov did not move in a single +limb; but she was gradually possessed by concealed emotion. + +It communicated itself to Bazarov. He was suddenly conscious that he +was alone with a young and lovely woman.... + +'Where are you going?' she said slowly. + +He answered nothing, and sank into a chair. + +'And so you consider me a placid, pampered, spoiled creature,' she went +on in the same voice, never taking her eyes off the window. 'While I +know so much about myself, that I am unhappy.' + +'You unhappy? What for? Surely you can't attach any importance to idle +gossip?' + +Madame Odintsov frowned. It annoyed her that he had given such a +meaning to her words. + +'Such gossip does not affect me, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and I am too +proud to allow it to disturb me. I am unhappy because ... I have no +desires, no passion for life. You look at me incredulously; you think +that's said by an "aristocrat," who is all in lace, and sitting in a +velvet armchair. I don't conceal the fact: I love what you call +comfort, and at the same time I have little desire to live. Explain +that contradiction as best you can. But all that's romanticism in your +eyes.' + +Bazarov shook his head. 'You are in good health, independent, rich; +what more would you have? What do you want?' + +'What do I want,' echoed Madame Odintsov, and she sighed, 'I am very +tired, I am old, I feel as if I have had a very long life. Yes, I am +old,' she added, softly drawing the ends of her lace over her bare +arms. Her eyes met Bazarov's eyes, and she faintly blushed. 'Behind me +I have already so many memories: my life in Petersburg, wealth, then +poverty, then my father's death, marriage, then the inevitable tour in +due order.... So many memories, and nothing to remember, and before me, +before me--a long, long road, and no goal.... I have no wish to go on.' + +'Are you so disillusioned?' queried Bazarov. + +'No, but I am dissatisfied,' Madame Odintsov replied, dwelling on each +syllable. 'I think if I could interest myself strongly in +something....' + +'You want to fall in love,' Bazarov interrupted her, 'and you can't +love; that's where your unhappiness lies.' + +Madame Odintsov began to examine the sleeve of her lace. + +'Is it true I can't love?' she said. + +'I should say not! Only I was wrong in calling that an unhappiness. On +the contrary, any one's more to be pitied when such a mischance befalls +him.' + +'Mischance, what?' + +'Falling in love.' + +'And how do you come to know that?' + +'By hearsay,' answered Bazarov angrily. + +'You're flirting,' he thought; 'you're bored, and teasing me for want +of something to do, while I ...' His heart really seemed as though it +were being torn to pieces. + +'Besides, you are perhaps too exacting,' he said, bending his whole +frame forward and playing with the fringe of the chair. + +'Perhaps. My idea is everything or nothing. A life for a life. Take +mine, give up thine, and that without regret or turning back. Or else +better have nothing.' + +'Well?' observed Bazarov; 'that's fair terms, and I'm surprised that so +far you ... have not found what you wanted.' + +'And do you think it would be easy to give oneself up wholly to +anything whatever?' + +'Not easy, if you begin reflecting, waiting and attaching value to +yourself, prizing yourself, I mean; but to give oneself up without +reflection is very easy.' + +'How can one help prizing oneself? If I am of no value, who could need +my devotion?' + +'That's not my affair; that's the other's business to discover what is +my value. The chief thing is to be able to devote oneself.' + +Madame Odintsov bent forward from the back of her chair. 'You speak,' +she began, 'as though you had experienced all that.' + +'It happened to come up, Anna Sergyevna; all that, as you know, is not +in my line.' + +'But you could devote yourself?' + +'I don't know. I shouldn't like to boast.' + +Madame Odintsov said nothing, and Bazarov was mute. The sounds of the +piano floated up to them from the drawing-room. + +'How is it Katya is playing so late?' observed Madame Odintsov. + +Bazarov got up. 'Yes, it is really late now; it's time for you to go to +bed.' + +'Wait a little; why are you in a hurry?... I want to say one word to +you.' + +'What is it?' + +'Wait a little,' whispered Madame Odintsov. Her eyes rested on Bazarov; +it seemed as though she were examining him attentively. + +He walked across the room, then suddenly went up to her, hurriedly said +'Good-bye,' squeezed her hand so that she almost screamed, and was +gone. She raised her crushed fingers to her lips, breathed on them, and +suddenly, impulsively getting up from her low chair, she moved with +rapid steps towards the door, as though she wished to bring Bazarov +back.... A maid came into the room with a decanter on a silver tray. +Madame Odintsov stood still, told her she could go, and sat down again, +and again sank into thought. Her hair slipped loose and fell in a dark +coil down her shoulders. Long after the lamp was still burning in Anna +Sergyevna's room, and for long she stayed without moving, only from +time to time chafing her hands, which ached a little from the cold of +the night. + +Bazarov went back two hours later to his bed-room with his boots wet +with dew, dishevelled and ill-humoured. He found Arkady at the +writing-table with a book in his hands, his coat buttoned up to the +throat. + +'You're not in bed yet?' he said, in a tone, it seemed, of annoyance. + +'You stopped a long while with Anna Sergyevna this evening,' remarked +Arkady, not answering him. + +'Yes, I stopped with her all the while you were playing the piano with +Katya Sergyevna.' + +'I did not play ...' Arkady began, and he stopped. He felt the tears +were coming into his eyes, and he did not like to cry before his +sarcastic friend. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +The following morning when Madame Odintsov came down to morning tea, +Bazarov sat a long while bending over his cup, then suddenly he glanced +up at her.... She turned to him as though he had struck her a blow, and +he fancied that her face was a little paler since the night before. She +quickly went off to her own room, and did not appear till lunch. It +rained from early morning; there was no possibility of going for a +walk. The whole company assembled in the drawing-room. Arkady took up +the new number of a journal and began reading it aloud. The princess, +as was her habit, tried to express her amazement in her face, as though +he were doing something improper, then glared angrily at him; but he +paid no attention to her. + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch' said Anna Sergyevna, 'come to my room.... I want +to ask you.... You mentioned a textbook yesterday ...' + +She got up and went to the door. The princess looked round with an +expression that seemed to say, 'Look at me; see how shocked I am!' and +again glared at Arkady; but he raised his voice, and exchanging glances +with Katya, near whom he was sitting, he went on reading. + +Madame Odintsov went with rapid steps to her study. Bazarov followed +her quickly, not raising his eyes, and only with his ears catching the +delicate swish and rustle of her silk gown gliding before him. Madame +Odintsov sank into the same easy-chair in which she had sat the +previous evening, and Bazarov took up the same position as before. + +'What was the name of that book?' she began, after a brief silence. + +'Pelouse et Frémy, _Notions générales_,' answered Bazarov. 'I might +though recommend you also Ganot, _Traité élémentaire de physique +éxpérimentale_. In that book the illustrations are clearer, and in +general it's a text-book.' + +Madame Odintsov stretched out her hand. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I beg +your pardon, but I didn't invite you in here to discuss text-books. I +wanted to continue our conversation of last night. You went away so +suddenly.... It will not bore you ...' + +'I am at your service, Anna Sergyevna. But what were we talking about +last night?' + +Madame Odintsov flung a sidelong glance at Bazarov. + +'We were talking of happiness, I believe. I told you about myself. By +the way, I mentioned the word "happiness." Tell me why it is that even +when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a fine evening, or a +conversation with sympathetic people, it all seems an intimation of +some measureless happiness existing apart somewhere rather than actual +happiness--such, I mean, as we ourselves are in possession of? Why is +it? Or perhaps you have no feeling like that?' + +'You know the saying, "Happiness is where we are not,"' replied +Bazarov; 'besides, you told me yesterday you are discontented. I +certainly never have such ideas come into my head.' + +'Perhaps they seem ridiculous to you?' + +'No; but they don't come into my head.' + +'Really? Do you know, I should very much like to know what you do think +about?' + +'What? I don't understand.' + +'Listen; I have long wanted to speak openly to you. There's no need to +tell you--you are conscious of it yourself--that you are not an +ordinary man; you are still young--all life is before you. What are you +preparing yourself for? What future is awaiting you? I mean to +say--what object do you want to attain? What are you going forward to? +What is in your heart? in short, who are you? What are you?' + +'You surprise me, Anna Sergyevna. You are aware that I am studying +natural science, and who I ...' + +'Well, who are you?' + +'I have explained to you already that I am going to be a district +doctor.' + +Anna Sergyevna made a movement of impatience. + +'What do you say that for? You don't believe it yourself. Arkady might +answer me in that way, but not you.' + +'Why, in what is Arkady ...' + +'Stop! Is it possible you could content yourself with such a humble +career, and aren't you always maintaining yourself that you don't +believe in medicine? You--with your ambition--a district doctor! You +answer me like that to put me off, because you have no confidence in +me. But, do you know, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, that I could understand you; +I have been poor myself, and ambitious, like you; I have been perhaps +through the same trials as you.' + +'That is all very well, Anna Sergyevna, but you must pardon me for ... +I am not in the habit of talking freely about myself at any time as a +rule, and between you and me there is such a gulf ...' + +'What sort of gulf? You mean to tell me again that I am an aristocrat? +No more of that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch; I thought I had proved to +you ...' + +'And even apart from that,' broke in Bazarov, 'what could induce one to +talk and think about the future, which for the most part does not +depend on us? If a chance turns up of doing something--so much the +better; and if it doesn't turn up--at least one will be glad one didn't +gossip idly about it beforehand.' + +'You call a friendly conversation idle gossip?... Or perhaps you +consider me as a woman unworthy of your confidence? I know you despise +us all.' + +'I don't despise you, Anna Sergyevna, and you know that.' + +'No, I don't know anything ... but let us suppose so. I understand your +disinclination to talk of your future career; but as to what is taking +place within you now ...' + +'Taking place!' repeated Bazarov, 'as though I were some sort of +government or society! In any case, it is utterly uninteresting; and +besides, can a man always speak of everything that "takes place" in +him?' + +'Why, I don't see why you can't speak freely of everything you have in +your heart.' + +'Can _you_?' asked Bazarov. + +'Yes,' answered Anna Sergyevna, after a brief hesitation. + +Bazarov bowed his head. 'You are more fortunate than I am.' + +Anna Sergyevna looked at him questioningly. 'As you please,' she went +on, 'but still something tells me that we have not come together for +nothing; that we shall be great friends. I am sure this--what should I +say, constraint, reticence in you will vanish at last.' + +'So you have noticed reticence ... as you expressed it ... constraint?' + +'Yes.' + +Bazarov got up and went to the window. 'And would you like to know the +reason of this reticence? Would you like to know what is passing within +me?' + +'Yes,' repeated Madame Odintsov, with a sort of dread she did not at +the time understand. + +'And you will not be angry?' + +'No.' + +'No?' Bazarov was standing with his back to her. 'Let me tell you then +that I love you like a fool, like a madman.... There, you've forced it +out of me.' + +Madame Odintsov held both hands out before her; but Bazarov was leaning +with his forehead pressed against the window pane. He breathed hard; +his whole body was visibly trembling. But it was not the tremor of +youthful timidity, not the sweet alarm of the first declaration that +possessed him; it was passion struggling in him, strong and +painful--passion not unlike hatred, and perhaps akin to it.... Madame +Odintsov felt both afraid and sorry for him. + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and there was the ring of unconscious +tenderness in her voice. + +He turned quickly, flung a searching look on her, and snatching both +her hands, he drew her suddenly to his breast. + +She did not at once free herself from his embrace, but an instant +later, she was standing far away in a corner, and looking from there at +Bazarov. He rushed at her ... + +'You have misunderstood me,' she whispered hurriedly, in alarm. It +seemed if he had made another step she would have screamed.... Bazarov +bit his lips, and went out. + +Half-an-hour after, a maid gave Anna Sergyevna a note from Bazarov; it +consisted simply of one line: 'Am I to go to-day, or can I stop till +to-morrow?' + +'Why should you go? I did not understand you--you did not understand +me,' Anna Sergyevna answered him, but to herself she thought: 'I did +not understand myself either.' + +She did not show herself till dinner-time, and kept walking to and fro +in her room, stopping sometimes at the window, sometimes at the +looking-glass, and slowly rubbing her handkerchief over her neck, on +which she still seemed to feel a burning spot. She asked herself what +had induced her to 'force' Bazarov's words, his confidence, and whether +she had suspected nothing ... 'I am to blame,' she decided aloud, 'but +I could not have foreseen this.' She fell to musing, and blushed +crimson, remembering Bazarov's almost animal face when he had rushed at +her.... + +'Oh?' she uttered suddenly aloud, and she stopped short and shook back +her curls.... She caught sight of herself in the glass; her head thrown +back, with a mysterious smile on the half-closed, half-opened eyes and +lips, told her, it seemed, in a flash something at which she herself +was confused.... + +'No,' she made up her mind at last. 'God knows what it would lead to; +he couldn't be played with; peace is anyway the best thing in the +world.' + +Her peace of mind was not shaken; but she felt gloomy, and even shed a +few tears once though she could not have said why--certainly not for +the insult done her. She did not feel insulted; she was more inclined +to feel guilty. Under the influence of various vague emotions, the +sense of life passing by, the desire of novelty, she had forced herself +to go up to a certain point, forced herself to look behind herself, and +had seen behind her not even an abyss, but what was empty ... or +revolting. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +Great as was Madame Odintsov's self-control, and superior as she was to +every kind of prejudice, she felt awkward when she went into the +dining-room to dinner. The meal went off fairly successfully, however. +Porfiry Platonovitch made his appearance and told various anecdotes; he +had just come back from the town. Among other things, he informed them +that the governor had ordered his secretaries on special commissions to +wear spurs, in case he might send them off anywhere for greater speed +on horseback. Arkady talked in an undertone to Katya, and +diplomatically attended to the princess's wants. Bazarov maintained a +grim and obstinate silence. Madame Odintsov looked at him twice, not +stealthily, but straight in the face, which was bilious and forbidding, +with downcast eyes, and contemptuous determination stamped on every +feature, and thought: 'No ... no ... no.' ... After dinner, she went +with the whole company into the garden, and seeing that Bazarov wanted +to speak to her, she took a few steps to one side and stopped. He went +up to her, but even then did not raise his eyes, and said hoarsely-- + +'I have to apologise to you, Anna Sergyevna. You must be in a fury with +me.' + +'No, I'm not angry with you, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' answered Madame +Odintsov; 'but I am sorry.' + +'So much the worse. Any way, I'm sufficiently punished. My position, +you will certainly agree, is most foolish. You wrote to me, "Why go +away?" But I cannot stay, and don't wish to. To-morrow I shall be +gone.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why are you ...' + +'Why am I going away?' + +'No; I didn't mean to say that.' + +'There's no recalling the past, Anna Sergyevna ... and this was bound +to come about sooner or later. Consequently I must go. I can only +conceive of one condition upon which I could remain; but that condition +will never be. Excuse my impertinence, but you don't love me, and you +never will love me, I suppose?' + +Bazarov's eyes glittered for an instant under their dark brows. + +Anna Sergyevna did not answer him. 'I'm afraid of this man,' flashed +through her brain. + +'Good-bye, then,' said Bazarov, as though he guessed her thought, and +he went back into the house. + +Anna Sergyevna walked slowly after him, and calling Katya to her, she +took her arm. She did not leave her side till quite evening. She did +not play cards, and was constantly laughing, which did not at all +accord with her pale and perplexed face. Arkady was bewildered, and +looked on at her as all young people look on--that's to say, he was +constantly asking himself, 'What is the meaning of that?' Bazarov shut +himself up in his room; he came back to tea, however. Anna Sergyevna +longed to say some friendly word to him, but she did not know how to +address him.... + +An unexpected incident relieved her from her embarrassment; a steward +announced the arrival of Sitnikov. + +It is difficult to do justice in words to the strange figure cut by the +young apostle of progress as he fluttered into the room. Though, with +his characteristic impudence, he had made up his mind to go into the +country to visit a woman whom he hardly knew, who had never invited +him; but with whom, according to information he had gathered, such +talented and intimate friends were staying, he was nevertheless +trembling to the marrow of his bones; and instead of bringing out the +apologies and compliments he had learned by heart beforehand, he +muttered some absurdity about Evdoksya Kukshin having sent him to +inquire after Anna Sergyevna's health, and Arkady Nikolaevitch's too, +having always spoken to him in the highest terms.... At this point he +faltered and lost his presence of mind so completely that he sat down +on his own hat. However, since no one turned him out, and Anna +Sergyevna even presented him to her aunt and her sister, he soon +recovered himself and began to chatter volubly. The introduction of the +commonplace is often an advantage in life; it relieves over-strained +tension, and sobers too self-confident or self-sacrificing emotions by +recalling its close kinship with them. With Sitnikov's appearance +everything became somehow duller and simpler; they all even ate a more +solid supper, and retired to bed half-an-hour earlier than usual. + +'I might now repeat to you,' said Arkady, as he lay down in bed, to +Bazarov, who was also undressing, what you once said to me, 'Why are +you so melancholy? One would think you had fulfilled some sacred duty.' +For some time past a sort of pretence of free-and-easy banter had +sprung up between the two young men, which is always an unmistakable +sign of secret displeasure or unexpressed suspicions. + +'I'm going to my father's to-morrow,' said Bazarov. + +Arkady raised himself and leaned on his elbow. He felt both surprised, +and for some reason or other pleased. 'Ah!' he commented, 'and is that +why you're sad?' + +Bazarov yawned. 'You'll get old if you know too much.' + +'And Anna Sergyevna?' persisted Arkady. + +'What about Anna Sergyevna?' + +'I mean, will she let you go?' + +'I'm not her paid man.' + +Arkady grew thoughtful, while Bazarov lay down and turned with his face +to the wall. + +Some minutes went by in silence. 'Yevgeny?' cried Arkady suddenly. + +'Well?' + +'I will leave with you to-morrow too.' + +Bazarov made no answer. + +'Only I will go home,' continued Arkady. 'We will go together as far as +Hohlovsky, and there you can get horses at Fedot's. I should be +delighted to make the acquaintance of your people, but I'm afraid of +being in their way and yours. You are coming to us again later, of +course?' + +'I've left all my things with you,' Bazarov said, without turning +round. + +'Why doesn't he ask me why I am going, and just as suddenly as he?' +thought Arkady. 'In reality, why am I going, and why is he going?' he +pursued his reflections. He could find no satisfactory answer to his +own question, though his heart was filled with some bitter feeling. He +felt it would be hard to part from this life to which he had grown so +accustomed; but for him to remain alone would be rather odd. 'Something +has passed between them,' he reasoned to himself; 'what good would it +be for me to hang on after he's gone? She's utterly sick of me; I'm +losing the last that remained to me.' He began to imagine Anna +Sergyevna to himself, then other features gradually eclipsed the lovely +image of the young widow. + +'I'm sorry to lose Katya too!' Arkady whispered to his pillow, on which +a tear had already fallen.... All at once he shook back his hair and +said aloud-- + +'What the devil made that fool of a Sitnikov turn up here?' + +Bazarov at first stirred a little in his bed, then he uttered the +following rejoinder: 'You're still a fool, my boy, I see. Sitnikovs are +indispensable to us. I--do you understand? I need dolts like him. It's +not for the gods to bake bricks, in fact!'... + +'Oho!' Arkady thought to himself, and then in a flash all the +fathomless depths of Bazarov's conceit dawned upon him. 'Are you and I +gods then? at least, you're a god; am not I a dolt then?' + +'Yes,' repeated Bazarov; 'you're still a fool.' + +Madame Odintsov expressed no special surprise when Arkady told her the +next day that he was going with Bazarov; she seemed tired and absorbed. +Katya looked at him silently and seriously; the princess went so far as +to cross herself under her shawl so that he could not help noticing it. +Sitnikov, on the other hand, was completely disconcerted. He had only +just come in to lunch in a new and fashionable get-up, not on this +occasion of a Slavophil cut; the evening before he had astonished the +man told off to wait on him by the amount of linen he had brought with +him, and now all of a sudden his comrades were deserting him! He took a +few tiny steps, doubled back like a hunted hare at the edge of a copse, +and abruptly, almost with dismay, almost with a wail, announced that he +proposed going too. Madame Odintsov did not attempt to detain him. + +'I have a very comfortable carriage,' added the luckless young man, +turning to Arkady; 'I can take you, while Yevgeny Vassilyitch can take +your coach, so it will be even more convenient.' + +'But, really, it's not at all in your way, and it's a long way to my +place.' + +'That's nothing, nothing; I've plenty of time; besides, I have business +in that direction.' + +'Gin-selling?' asked Arkady, rather too contemptuously. + +But Sitnikov was reduced to such desperation that he did not even laugh +as usual. 'I assure you, my carriage is exceedingly comfortable,' he +muttered; 'and there will be room for all.' + +'Don't wound Monsieur Sitnikov by a refusal,' commented Anna Sergyevna. + +Arkady glanced at her, and bowed his head significantly. + +The visitors started off after lunch. As she said good-bye to Bazarov, +Madame Odintsov held out her hand to him, and said, 'We shall meet +again, shan't we?' + +'As you command,' answered Bazarov. + +'In that case, we shall.' + +Arkady was the first to descend the steps; he got into Sitnikov's +carriage. A steward tucked him in respectfully, but he could have +killed him with pleasure, or have burst into tears. + +Bazarov took his seat in the coach. When they reached Hohlovsky, Arkady +waited till Fedot, the keeper of the posting-station, had put in the +horses, and going up to the coach, he said, with his old smile, to +Bazarov, 'Yevgeny, take me with you; I want to come to you.' + +'Get in,' Bazarov brought out through his teeth. + +Sitnikov, who had been walking to and fro round the wheels of his +carriage, whistling briskly, could only gape when he heard these +words; while Arkady coolly pulled his luggage out of the carriage, +took his seat beside Bazarov, and bowing politely to his former +fellow-traveller, he called, 'Whip up!' The coach rolled away, and was +soon out of sight.... Sitnikov, utterly confused, looked at his +coachman, but the latter was flicking his whip about the tail of the +off horse. Then Sitnikov jumped into the carriage, and growling at two +passing peasants, 'Put on your caps, idiots!' he drove to the town, +where he arrived very late, and where, next day, at Madame Kukshin's, +he dealt very severely with two 'disgusting stuck-up churls.' + +When he was seated in the coach by Bazarov, Arkady pressed his hand +warmly, and for a long while he said nothing. It seemed as though +Bazarov understood and appreciated both the pressure and the silence. +He had not slept all the previous night, and had not smoked, and had +eaten scarcely anything for several days. His profile, already thinner, +stood out darkly and sharply under his cap, which was pulled down to +his eyebrows. + +'Well, brother,' he said at last, 'give us a cigarette. But look, I +say, is my tongue yellow?' + +'Yes, it is,' answered Arkady. + +'Hm ... and the cigarette's tasteless. The machine's out of gear.' + +'You look changed lately certainly,' observed Arkady. + +'It's nothing! we shall soon be all right. One thing's a bother--my +mother's so tender-hearted; if you don't grow as round as a tub, and +eat ten times a day, she's quite upset. My father's all right, he's +known all sorts of ups and downs himself. No, I can't smoke,' he added, +and he flung the cigarette into the dust of the road. + +'Do you think it's twenty miles?' asked Arkady. + +'Yes. But ask this sage here.' He indicated the peasant sitting on the +box, a labourer of Fedot's. + +But the sage only answered, 'Who's to know--miles hereabout aren't +measured,' and went on swearing in an undertone at the shaft horse for +'kicking with her head-piece,' that is, shaking with her head down. + +'Yes, yes,' began Bazarov; 'it's a lesson to you, my young friend, an +instructive example. God knows, what rot it is? Every man hangs on a +thread, the abyss may open under his feet any minute, and yet he must +go and invent all sorts of discomforts for himself, and spoil his +life.' + +'What are you alluding to?' asked Arkady. + +'I'm not alluding to anything; I'm saying straight out that we've both +behaved like fools. What's the use of talking about it! Still, I've +noticed in hospital practice, the man who's furious at his +illness--he's sure to get over it.' + +'I don't quite understand you,' observed Arkady; 'I should have thought +you had nothing to complain of.' + +'And since you don't quite understand me, I'll tell you this--to my +mind, it's better to break stones on the highroad than to let a woman +have the mastery of even the end of one's little finger. That's all +...' Bazarov was on the point of uttering his favourite word, +'romanticism,' but he checked himself, and said, 'rubbish. You don't +believe me now, but I tell you; you and I have been in feminine +society, and very nice we found it; but to throw up society like that +is for all the world like a dip in cold water on a hot day. A man +hasn't time to attend to such trifles; a man ought not to be tame, says +an excellent Spanish proverb. Now, you, I suppose, my sage friend,' he +added, turning to the peasant sitting on the box--'you've a wife?' + +The peasant showed both the friends his dull blear-eyed face. + +'A wife? Yes. Every man has a wife.' + +'Do you beat her?' + +'My wife? Everything happens sometimes. We don't beat her without good +reason!' + +'That's excellent. Well, and does she beat you?' + +The peasant gave a tug at the reins. 'That's a strange thing to say, +sir. You like your joke.'... He was obviously offended. + +'You hear, Arkady Nikolaevitch! But we have taken a beating ... that's +what comes of being educated people.' + +Arkady gave a forced laugh, while Bazarov turned away, and did not open +his mouth again the whole journey. + +The twenty miles seemed to Arkady quite forty. But at last, on the +slope of some rising ground, appeared the small hamlet where Bazarov's +parents lived. Beside it, in a young birch copse, could be seen a small +house with a thatched roof. + +Two peasants stood with their hats on at the first hut, abusing each +other. 'You're a great sow,' said one; 'and worse than a little sucking +pig.' + +'And your wife's a witch,' retorted the other. + +'From their unconstrained behaviour,' Bazarov remarked to Arkady, 'and +the playfulness of their retorts, you can guess that my father's +peasants are not too much oppressed. Why, there he is himself coming +out on the steps of his house. They must have heard the bells. It's he; +it's he--I know his figure. Ay, ay! how grey he's grown though, poor +chap!' + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Bazarov leaned out of the coach, while Arkady thrust his head out +behind his companion's back, and caught sight on the steps of the +little manor-house of a tall, thinnish man with dishevelled hair, and a +thin hawk nose, dressed in an old military coat not buttoned up. He was +standing, his legs wide apart, smoking a long pipe and screwing up his +eyes to keep the sun out of them. + +The horses stopped. + +'Arrived at last,' said Bazarov's father, still going on smoking though +the pipe was fairly dancing up and down between his fingers. 'Come, get +out; get out; let me hug you.' + +He began embracing his son ... 'Enyusha, Enyusha,' was heard a +trembling woman's voice. The door was flung open, and in the doorway +was seen a plump, short, little old woman in a white cap and a short +striped jacket. She moaned, staggered, and would certainly have fallen, +had not Bazarov supported her. Her plump little hands were instantly +twined round his neck, her head was pressed to his breast, and there +was a complete hush. The only sound heard was her broken sobs. + +Old Bazarov breathed hard and screwed his eyes up more than ever. + +'There, that's enough, that's enough, Arisha! give over,' he said, +exchanging a glance with Arkady, who remained motionless in the coach, +while the peasant on the box even turned his head away; 'that's not at +all necessary, please give over.' + +'Ah, Vassily Ivanitch,' faltered the old woman, 'for what ages, my dear +one, my darling, Enyusha,' ... and, not unclasping her hands, she drew +her wrinkled face, wet with tears and working with tenderness, a little +away from Bazarov, and gazed at him with blissful and comic-looking +eyes, and again fell on his neck. + +'Well, well, to be sure, that's all in the nature of things,' commented +Vassily Ivanitch, 'only we'd better come indoors. Here's a visitor come +with Yevgeny. You must excuse it,' he added, turning to Arkady, and +scraping with his foot; 'you understand, a woman's weakness; and well, +a mother's heart ...' + +His lips and eyebrows too were twitching, and his beard was quivering +... but he was obviously trying to control himself and appear almost +indifferent. + +'Let's come in, mother, really,' said Bazarov, and he led the enfeebled +old woman into the house. Putting her into a comfortable armchair, he +once more hurriedly embraced his father and introduced Arkady to him. + +'Heartily glad to make your acquaintance,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, +'but you mustn't expect great things; everything here in my house is +done in a plain way, on a military footing. Arina Vlasyevna, calm +yourself, pray; what weakness! The gentleman our guest will think ill +of you.' + +'My dear sir,' said the old lady through her tears, 'your name and your +father's I haven't the honour of knowing....' + +'Arkady Nikolaitch,' put in Vassily Ivanitch solemnly, in a low voice. + +'You must excuse a silly old woman like me.' The old woman blew her +nose, and bending her head to right and to left, carefully wiped one +eye after the other. 'You must excuse me. You see, I thought I should +die, that I should not live to see my da .. arling.' + +'Well, here we have lived to see him, madam,' put in Vassily +Ivanovitch. 'Tanyushka,' he turned to a bare-legged little girl of +thirteen in a bright red cotton dress, who was timidly peeping in at +the door, 'bring your mistress a glass of water--on a tray, do you +hear?--and you, gentlemen,' he added, with a kind of old-fashioned +playfulness, 'let me ask you into the study of a retired old veteran.' + +'Just once more let me embrace you, Enyusha,' moaned Arina Vlasyevna. +Bazarov bent down to her. 'Why, what a handsome fellow you have grown!' + +'Well, I don't know about being handsome,' remarked Vassily Ivanovitch, +'but he's a man, as the saying is, _ommfay_. And now I hope, Arina +Vlasyevna, that having satisfied your maternal heart, you will turn +your thoughts to satisfying the appetites of our dear guests, because, +as you're aware, even nightingales can't be fed on fairy tales.' + +The old lady got up from her chair. 'This minute, Vassily Ivanovitch, +the table shall be laid. I will run myself to the kitchen and order the +samovar to be brought in; everything shall be ready, everything. Why, I +have not seen him, not given him food or drink these three years; is +that nothing?' + +'There, mind, good mother, bustle about; don't put us to shame; while +you, gentlemen, I beg you to follow me. Here's Timofeitch come to pay +his respects to you, Yevgeny. He, too, I daresay, is delighted, the old +dog. Eh, aren't you delighted, old dog? Be so good as to follow me.' + +And Vassily Ivanovitch went bustling forward, scraping and flapping +with his slippers trodden down at heel. + +His whole house consisted of six tiny rooms. One of them--the one to +which he led our friends--was called the study. A thick-legged table, +littered over with papers black with the accumulation of ancient dust +as though they had been smoked, occupied all the space between the two +windows; on the walls hung Turkish firearms, whips, a sabre, two maps, +some anatomical diagrams, a portrait of Hoffland, a monogram woven in +hair in a blackened frame, and a diploma under glass; a leather sofa, +torn and worn into hollows in parts, was placed between two huge +cupboards of birch-wood; on the shelves books, boxes, stuffed birds, +jars, and phials were huddled together in confusion; in one corner +stood a broken galvanic battery. + +'I warned you, my dear Arkady Nikolaitch,' began Vassily Ivanitch, +'that we live, so to say, bivouacking....' + +'There, stop that, what are you apologising for?' Bazarov interrupted. +'Kirsanov knows very well we're not Croesuses, and that you have no +butler. Where are we going to put him, that's the question?' + +'To be sure, Yevgeny; I have a capital room there in the little lodge; +he will be very comfortable there.' + +'Have you had a lodge put up then?' + +'Why, where the bath-house is,' put in Timofeitch. + +'That is next to the bathroom,' Vassily Ivanitch added hurriedly. 'It's +summer now ... I will run over there at once, and make arrangements; +and you, Timofeitch, meanwhile bring in their things. You, Yevgeny, I +shall of course offer my study. _Suum cuique_.' + +'There you have him! A comical old chap, and very good-natured,' +remarked Bazarov, directly Vassily Ivanitch had gone. 'Just such a +queer fish as yours, only in another way. He chatters too much.' + +'And your mother seems an awfully nice woman,' observed Arkady. + +'Yes, there's no humbug about her. You'll see what a dinner she'll give +us.' + +'They didn't expect you to-day, sir; they've not brought any beef?' +observed Timofeitch, who was just dragging in Bazarov's box. + +'We shall get on very well without beef. It's no use crying for the +moon. Poverty, they say, is no vice.' + +'How many serfs has your father?' Arkady asked suddenly. + +'The estate's not his, but mother's; there are fifteen serfs, if I +remember.' + +'Twenty-two in all,' Timofeitch added, with an air of displeasure. + +The flapping of slippers was heard, and Vassily Ivanovitch reappeared. +'In a few minutes your room will be ready to receive you,' he cried +triumphantly. Arkady ... Nikolaitch? I think that is right? And here is +your attendant,' he added, indicating a short-cropped boy, who had come +in with him in a blue full-skirted coat with ragged elbows and a pair +of boots which did not belong to him. 'His name is Fedka. Again, I +repeat, even though my son tells me not to, you mustn't expect great +things. He knows how to fill a pipe, though. You smoke, of course?' + +'I generally smoke cigars,' answered Arkady. + +'And you do very sensibly. I myself give the preference to cigars, but +in these solitudes it is exceedingly difficult to obtain them.' + +'There, that's enough humble pie,' Bazarov interrupted again. 'You'd +much better sit here on the sofa and let us have a look at you.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch laughed and sat down. He was very like his son in +face, only his brow was lower and narrower, and his mouth rather wider, +and he was for ever restless, shrugging up his shoulder as though his +coat cut him under the armpits, blinking, clearing his throat, and +gesticulating with his fingers, while his son was distinguished by a +kind of nonchalant immobility. + +'Humble-pie!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch. 'You must not imagine, +Yevgeny, I want to appeal, so to speak, to our guest's sympathies by +making out we live in such a wilderness. Quite the contrary, I maintain +that for a thinking man nothing is a wilderness. At least, I try as far +as possible not to get rusty, so to speak, not to fall behind the age.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch drew out of his pocket a new yellow silk +handkerchief, which he had had time to snatch up on the way to Arkady's +room, and flourishing it in the air, he proceeded: 'I am not now +alluding to the fact that, for example, at the cost of sacrifices not +inconsiderable for me, I have put my peasants on the rent-system and +given up my land to them on half profits. I regarded that as my duty; +common sense itself enjoins such a proceeding, though other proprietors +do not even dream of it; I am alluding to the sciences, to culture.' + +'Yes; I see you have here _The Friend of Health_ for 1855,' remarked +Bazarov. + +'It's sent me by an old comrade out of friendship,' Vassily Ivanovitch +made haste to answer; 'but we have, for instance, some idea even of +phrenology,' he added, addressing himself principally, however, to +Arkady, and pointing to a small plaster head on the cupboard, divided +into numbered squares; 'we are not unacquainted even with Schenlein and +Rademacher.' + +'Why do people still believe in Rademacher in this province?' asked +Bazarov. + +Vassily Ivanovitch cleared his throat. 'In this province.... Of course, +gentlemen, you know best; how could we keep pace with you? You are here +to take our places. In my day, too, there was some sort of a +Humouralist school, Hoffmann, and Brown too with his vitalism--they +seemed very ridiculous to us, but, of course, they too had been great +men at one time or other. Some one new has taken the place of +Rademacher with you; you bow down to him, but in another twenty years +it will be his turn to be laughed at.' + +'For your consolation I will tell you,' observed Bazarov, 'that +nowadays we laugh at medicine altogether, and don't bow down to any +one.' + +'How's that? Why, you're going to be a doctor, aren't you?' + +'Yes, but the one fact doesn't prevent the other.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch poked his third finger into his pipe, where a little +smouldering ash was still left. 'Well, perhaps, perhaps--I am not going +to dispute. What am I? A retired army-doctor, _volla-too_; now fate has +made me take to farming. I served in your grandfather's brigade,' he +addressed himself again to Arkady; 'yes, yes, I have seen many sights +in my day. And I was thrown into all kinds of society, brought into +contact with all sorts of people! I myself, the man you see before you +now, have felt the pulse of Prince Wittgenstein and of Zhukovsky! They +were in the southern army, in the fourteenth, you understand' (and here +Vassily Ivanovitch pursed his mouth up significantly). 'Well, well, but +my business was on one side; stick to your lancet, and let everything +else go hang! Your grandfather was a very honourable man, a real +soldier.' + +'Confess, now, he was rather a blockhead,' remarked Bazarov lazily. + +'Ah, Yevgeny, how can you use such an expression! Do consider.... Of +course, General Kirsanov was not one of the ...' + +'Come, drop him,' broke in Bazarov; 'I was pleased as I was driving +along here to see your birch copse; it has shot up capitally.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch brightened up. 'And you must see what a little +garden I've got now! I planted every tree myself. I've fruit, and +raspberries, and all kinds of medicinal herbs. However clever you young +gentlemen may be, old Paracelsus spoke the holy truth: _in herbis +verbis et lapidibus_.... I've retired from practice, you know, of +course, but two or three times a week it will happen that I'm brought +back to my old work. They come for advice--I can't drive them away. +Sometimes the poor have recourse to me for help. And indeed there are +no doctors here at all. There's one of the neighbours here, a retired +major, only fancy, he doctors the people too. I asked the question, +"Has he studied medicine?" And they told me, "No, he's not studied; he +does it more from philanthropy."... Ha! ha! ha! from philanthropy! What +do you think of that? Ha! ha! ha!' + +'Fedka, fill me a pipe!' said Bazarov rudely. + +'And there's another doctor here who just got to a patient,' Vassily +Ivanovitch persisted in a kind of desperation, 'when the patient had +gone _ad patres_; the servant didn't let the doctor speak; you're no +longer wanted, he told him. He hadn't expected this, got confused, and +asked, "Why, did your master hiccup before his death?" "Yes." "Did he +hiccup much?" "Yes." "Ah, well, that's all right," and off he set back +again. Ha! ha! ha!' + +The old man was alone in his laughter; Arkady forced a smile on his +face. Bazarov simply stretched. The conversation went on in this way +for about an hour; Arkady had time to go to his room, which turned out +to be the anteroom attached to the bathroom, but was very snug and +clean. At last Tanyusha came in and announced that dinner was ready. + +Vassily Ivanovitch was the first to get up. 'Come, gentlemen. You must +be magnanimous and pardon me if I've bored you. I daresay my good wife +will give you more satisfaction.' + +The dinner, though prepared in haste, turned out to be very good, even +abundant; only the wine was not quite up to the mark; it was almost +black sherry, bought by Timofeitch in the town at a well-known +merchant's, and had a faint coppery, resinous taste, and the flies were +a great nuisance. On ordinary days a serf-boy used to keep driving them +away with a large green branch; but on this occasion Vassily Ivanovitch +had sent him away through dread of the criticism of the younger +generation. Arina Vlasyevna had had time to dress: she had put on a +high cap with silk ribbons and a pale blue flowered shawl. She broke +down again directly she caught sight of her Enyusha, but her husband +had no need to admonish her; she made haste to wipe away her tears +herself, for fear of spotting her shawl. Only the young men ate +anything; the master and mistress of the house had dined long ago. +Fedka waited at table, obviously encumbered by having boots on for the +first time; he was assisted by a woman of a masculine cast of face and +one eye, by name Anfisushka, who performed the duties of housekeeper, +poultry-woman, and laundress. Vassily Ivanovitch walked up and down +during the whole of dinner, and with a perfectly happy, positively +beatific countenance, talked about the serious anxiety he felt at +Napoleon's policy, and the intricacy of the Italian question. Arina +Vlasyevna took no notice of Arkady. She did not press him to eat; +leaning her round face, to which the full cherry-coloured lips and the +little moles on the cheeks and over the eyebrows gave a very simple +good-natured expression, on her little closed fist, she did not take +her eyes off her son, and kept constantly sighing; she was dying to +know for how long he had come, but she was afraid to ask him. + +'What if he says for two days,' she thought, and her heart sank. After +the roast Vassily Ivanovitch disappeared for an instant, and returned +with an opened half-bottle of champagne. 'Here,' he cried, 'though we +do live in the wilds, we have something to make merry with on festive +occasions!' He filled three champagne glasses and a little wineglass, +proposed the health of 'our inestimable guests,' and at once tossed off +his glass in military fashion; while he made Arina Vlasyevna drink her +wineglass to the last drop. When the time came in due course for +preserves, Arkady, who could not bear anything sweet, thought it his +duty, however, to taste four different kinds which had been freshly +made, all the more as Bazarov flatly refused them and began at once +smoking a cigarette. Then tea came on the scene with cream, butter, and +cracknels; then Vassily Ivanovitch took them all into the garden to +admire the beauty of the evening. As they passed a garden seat he +whispered to Arkady-- + +'At this spot I love to meditate, as I watch the sunset; it suits a +recluse like me. And there, a little farther off, I have planted some +of the trees beloved of Horace.' + +'What trees?' asked Bazarov, overhearing. + +'Oh ... acacias.' + +Bazarov began to yawn. + +'I imagine it's time our travellers were in the arms of Morpheus,' +observed Vassily Ivanovitch. + +'That is, it's time for bed,' Bazarov put in. 'That's a correct idea. +It is time, certainly.' + +As he said good-night to his mother, he kissed her on the forehead, +while she embraced him, and stealthily behind his back she gave him her +blessing three times. Vassily Ivanovitch conducted Arkady to his room, +and wished him 'as refreshing repose as I enjoyed at your happy years.' +And Arkady did as a fact sleep excellently in his bath-house; there was +a smell of mint in it, and two crickets behind the stove rivalled each +other in their drowsy chirping. Vassily Ivanovitch went from Arkady's +room to his study, and perching on the sofa at his son's feet, he was +looking forward to having a chat with him; but Bazarov at once sent him +away, saying he was sleepy, and did not fall asleep till morning. With +wide open eyes he stared vindictively into the darkness; the memories +of childhood had no power over him; and besides, he had not yet had +time to get rid of the impression of his recent bitter emotions. Arina +Vlasyevna first prayed to her heart's content, then she had a long, +long conversation with Anfisushka, who stood stock-still before her +mistress, and fixing her solitary eye upon her, communicated in a +mysterious whisper all her observations and conjectures in regard to +Yevgeny Vassilyevitch. The old lady's head was giddy with happiness and +wine and tobacco smoke; her husband tried to talk to her, but with a +wave of his hand gave it up in despair. + +Arina Vlasyevna was a genuine Russian gentlewoman of the olden times; +she ought to have lived two centuries before, in the old Moscow days. +She was very devout and emotional; she believed in fortune-telling, +charms, dreams, and omens of every possible kind; she believed in the +prophecies of crazy people, in house-spirits, in wood-spirits, in +unlucky meetings, in the evil eye, in popular remedies, she ate +specially prepared salt on Holy Thursday, and believed that the end of +the world was at hand; she believed that if on Easter Sunday the lights +did not go out at vespers, then there would be a good crop of +buckwheat, and that a mushroom will not grow after it has been looked +on by the eye of man; she believed that the devil likes to be where +there is water, and that every Jew has a blood-stained patch on his +breast; she was afraid of mice, of snakes, of frogs, of sparrows, of +leeches, of thunder, of cold water, of draughts, of horses, of goats, +of red-haired people, and black cats, and she regarded crickets and +dogs as unclean beasts; she never ate veal, doves, crayfishes, cheese, +asparagus, artichokes, hares, nor water-melons, because a cut +water-melon suggested the head of John the Baptist, and of oysters she +could not speak without a shudder; she was fond of eating--and fasted +rigidly; she slept ten hours out of the twenty-four--and never went to +bed at all if Vassily Ivanovitch had so much as a headache; she had +never read a single book except _Alexis or the Cottage in the Forest_; +she wrote one, or at the most two letters in a year, but was great in +housewifery, preserving, and jam-making, though with her own hands she +never touched a thing, and was generally disinclined to move from her +place. Arina Vlasyevna was very kindhearted, and in her way not at all +stupid. She knew that the world is divided into masters whose duty it +is to command, and simple folk whose duty it is to serve them--and so +she felt no repugnance to servility and prostrations to the ground; but +she treated those in subjection to her kindly and gently, never let a +single beggar go away empty-handed, and never spoke ill of any one, +though she was fond of gossip. In her youth she had been pretty, had +played the clavichord, and spoken French a little; but in the course of +many years' wanderings with her husband, whom she had married against +her will, she had grown stout, and forgotten music and French. Her son +she loved and feared unutterably; she had given up the management of +the property to Vassily Ivanovitch--and now did not interfere in +anything; she used to groan, wave her handkerchief, and raise her +eyebrows higher and higher with horror directly her old husband began +to discuss the impending government reforms and his own plans. She was +apprehensive, and constantly expecting some great misfortune, and began +to weep directly she remembered anything sorrowful.... Such women are +not common nowadays. God knows whether we ought to rejoice! + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +On getting up Arkady opened the window, and the first object that met +his view was Vassily Ivanovitch. In an Oriental dressing-gown girt +round the waist with a pocket-handkerchief he was industriously digging +in his garden. He perceived his young visitor, and leaning on his +spade, he called, 'The best of health to you! How have you slept?' + +'Capitally,' answered Arkady. + +'Here am I, as you see, like some Cincinnatus, marking out a bed for +late turnips. The time has come now--and thank God for it!--when every +one ought to obtain his sustenance with his own hands; it's useless to +reckon on others; one must labour oneself. And it turns out that Jean +Jacques Rousseau is right. Half an hour ago, my dear young gentleman, +you might have seen me in a totally different position. One peasant +woman, who complained of looseness--that's how they express it, but in +our language, dysentery--I ... how can I express it best? I +administered opium, and for another I extracted a tooth. I proposed an +anæsthetic to her ... but she would not consent. All that I do +_gratis_--_anamatyer_ (_en amateur_). I'm used to it, though; you see, +I'm a plebeian, _homo novus_--not one of the old stock, not like my +spouse.... Wouldn't you like to come this way into the shade, to +breathe the morning freshness a little before tea?' + +Arkady went out to him. + +'Welcome once again,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, raising his hand in a +military salute to the greasy skull-cap which covered his head. 'You, I +know, are accustomed to luxury, to amusements, but even the great ones +of this world do not disdain to spend a brief space under a cottage +roof.' + +'Good heavens,' protested Arkady, 'as though I were one of the great +ones of this world! And I'm not accustomed to luxury.' + +'Pardon me, pardon me,' rejoined Vassily Ivanovitch with a polite +simper. 'Though I am laid on the shelf now, I have knocked about the +world too--I can tell a bird by its flight. I am something of a +psychologist too in my own way, and a physiognomist. If I had not, I +will venture to say, been endowed with that gift, I should have come to +grief long ago; I should have stood no chance, a poor man like me. I +tell you without flattery, I am sincerely delighted at the friendship I +observe between you and my son. I have just seen him; he got up as he +usually does--no doubt you are aware of it--very early, and went a +ramble about the neighbourhood. Permit me to inquire--have you known my +son long?' + +'Since last winter.' + +'Indeed. And permit me to question you further--but hadn't we better +sit down? Permit me, as a father, to ask without reserve, What is your +opinion of my Yevgeny?' + +'Your son is one of the most remarkable men I have ever met,' Arkady +answered emphatically. + +Vassily Ivanovitch's eyes suddenly grew round, and his cheeks were +suffused with a faint flush. The spade fell out of his hand. + +'And so you expect,' he began ... + +'I'm convinced,' Arkady put in, 'that your son has a great future +before him; that he will do honour to your name. I've been certain of +that ever since I first met him.' + +'How ... how was that?' Vassily Ivanovitch articulated with an effort. +His wide mouth was relaxed in a triumphant smile, which would not leave +it. + +'Would you like me to tell you how we met?' + +'Yes ... and altogether....' + +Arkady began to tell his tale, and to talk of Bazarov with even greater +warmth, even greater enthusiasm than he had done on the evening when he +danced a mazurka with Madame Odintsov. + +Vassily Ivanovitch listened and listened, blinked, and rolled his +handkerchief up into a ball in both his hands, cleared his throat, +ruffled up his hair, and at last could stand it no longer; he bent down +to Arkady and kissed him on his shoulder. 'You have made me perfectly +happy,' he said, never ceasing to smile. 'I ought to tell you, I ... +idolise my son; my old wife I won't speak of--we all know what mothers +are!--but I dare not show my feelings before him, because he doesn't +like it. He is averse to every kind of demonstration of feeling; many +people even find fault with him for such firmness of character, and +regard it as a proof of pride or lack of feeling, but men like him +ought not to be judged by the common standard, ought they? And here, +for example, many another fellow in his place would have been a +constant drag on his parents; but he, would you believe it? has never +from the day he was born taken a farthing more than he could help, +that's God's truth!' + +'He is a disinterested, honest man,' observed Arkady. + +'Exactly so; he is disinterested. And I don't only idolise him, Arkady +Nikolaitch, I am proud of him, and the height of my ambition is that +some day there will be the following lines in his biography: "The son +of a simple army-doctor, who was, however, capable of divining his +greatness betimes, and spared nothing for his education ..."' The old +man's voice broke. + +Arkady pressed his hand. + +'What do you think,' inquired Vassily Ivanovitch, after a short +silence, 'will it be in the career of medicine that he will attain the +celebrity you anticipate for him?' + +'Of course, not in medicine, though even in that department he will be +one of the leading scientific men.' + +'In what then, Arkady Nikolaitch?' + +'It would he hard to say now, but he will be famous.' + +'He will be famous!' repeated the old man, and he sank into a reverie. + +'Arina Vlasyevna sent me to call you in to tea,' announced Anfisushka, +coming by with an immense dish of ripe raspberries. + +Vassily Ivanovitch started. 'And will there be cooled cream for the +raspberries?' + +'Yes.' + +'Cold now, mind! Don't stand on ceremony, Arkady Nikolaitch; take some +more. How is it Yevgeny doesn't come?' + +'I'm here,' was heard Bazarov's voice from Arkady's room. + +Vassily Ivanovitch turned round quickly. 'Aha! you wanted to pay a +visit to your friend; but you were too late, _amice_, and we have +already had a long conversation with him. Now we must go in to tea, +mother summons us. By the way, I want to have a little talk with you.' + +'What about?' + +'There's a peasant here; he's suffering from icterus.... + +'You mean jaundice?' + +'Yes, a chronic and very obstinate case of icterus. I have prescribed +him centaury and St. John's wort, ordered him to eat carrots, given him +soda; but all that's merely palliative measures; we want some more +decided treatment. Though you do laugh at medicine, I am certain you +can give me practical advice. But we will talk of that later. Now come +in to tea.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up briskly from the garden seat, and hummed +from _Robert le Diable_-- + + 'The rule, the rule we set ourselves, + To live, to live for pleasure!' + +'Singular vitality!' observed Bazarov, going away from the window. + +It was midday. The sun was burning hot behind a thin veil of unbroken +whitish clouds. Everything was hushed; there was no sound but the cocks +crowing irritably at one another in the village, producing in every one +who heard them a strange sense of drowsiness and ennui; and somewhere, +high up in a tree-top, the incessant plaintive cheep of a young hawk. +Arkady and Bazarov lay in the shade of a small haystack, putting under +themselves two armfuls of dry and rustling, but still greenish and +fragrant grass. + +'That aspen-tree,' began Bazarov, 'reminds me of my childhood; it grows +at the edge of the clay-pits where the bricks were dug, and in those +days I believed firmly that that clay-pit and aspen-tree possessed a +peculiar talismanic power; I never felt dull near them. I did not +understand then that I was not dull, because I was a child. Well, now +I'm grown up, the talisman's lost its power.' + +'How long did you live here altogether?' asked Arkady. + +'Two years on end; then we travelled about. We led a roving life, +wandering from town to town for the most part.' + +'And has this house been standing long?' + +'Yes. My grandfather built it--my mother's father.' + +'Who was he--your grandfather?' + +'Devil knows. Some second-major. He served with Suvorov, and was always +telling stories about the crossing of the Alps--inventions probably.' + +'You have a portrait of Suvorov hanging in the drawing-room. I like +these dear little houses like yours; they're so warm and old-fashioned; +and there's always a special sort of scent about them.' + +'A smell of lamp-oil and clover,' Bazarov remarked, yawning. 'And the +flies in those dear little houses.... Faugh!' + +'Tell me,' began Arkady, after a brief pause, 'were they strict with +you when you were a child?' + +'You can see what my parents are like. They're not a severe sort.' + +'Are you fond of them, Yevgeny?' + +'I am, Arkady.' + +'How fond they are of you!' + +Bazarov was silent for a little. 'Do you know what I'm thinking about?' +he brought out at last, clasping his hands behind his head. + +'No. What is it?' + +'I'm thinking life is a happy thing for my parents. My father at sixty +is fussing around, talking about "palliative" measures, doctoring +people, playing the bountiful master with the peasants--having a +festive time, in fact; and my mother's happy too; her day's so chockful +of duties of all sorts, and sighs and groans that she's no time even to +think of herself; while I ...' + +'While you?' + +'I think; here I lie under a haystack.... The tiny space I occupy is so +infinitely small in comparison with the rest of space, in which I am +not, and which has nothing to do with me; and the period of time in +which it is my lot to live is so petty beside the eternity in which I +have not been, and shall not be.... And in this atom, this mathematical +point, the blood is circulating, the brain is working and wanting +something.... Isn't it loathsome? Isn't it petty?' + +'Allow me to remark that what you're saying applies to men in general.' + +'You are right,' Bazarov cut in. 'I was going to say that they now--my +parents, I mean--are absorbed and don't trouble themselves about their +own nothingness; it doesn't sicken them ... while I ... I feel nothing +but weariness and anger.' + +'Anger? why anger?' + +'Why? How can you ask why? Have you forgotten?' + +'I remember everything, but still I don't admit that you have any right +to be angry. You're unlucky, I'll allow, but ...' + +'Pooh! then you, Arkady Nikolaevitch, I can see, regard love like all +modern young men; cluck, cluck, cluck you call to the hen, but if the +hen comes near you, you run away. I'm not like that. But that's enough +of that. What can't be helped, it's shameful to talk about.' He turned +over on his side. 'Aha! there goes a valiant ant dragging off a +half-dead fly. Take her, brother, take her! Don't pay attention to her +resistance; it's your privilege as an animal to be free from the +sentiment of pity--make the most of it--not like us conscientious +self-destructive animals!' + +'You shouldn't say that, Yevgeny! When have you destroyed yourself?' + +Bazarov raised his head. 'That's the only thing I pride myself on. I +haven't crushed myself, so a woman can't crush me. Amen! It's all over! +You shall not hear another word from me about it.' + +Both the friends lay for some time in silence. + +'Yes,' began Bazarov, 'man's a strange animal. When one gets a side +view from a distance of the dead-alive life our "fathers" lead here, +one thinks, What could be better? You eat and drink, and know you are +acting in the most reasonable, most judicious manner. But if not, +you're devoured by ennui. One wants to have to do with people if only +to abuse them.' + +'One ought so to order one's life that every moment in it should be of +significance,' Arkady affirmed reflectively. + +'I dare say! What's of significance is sweet, however mistaken; one +could make up one's mind to what's insignificant even. But pettiness, +pettiness, that's what's insufferable.' + +'Pettiness doesn't exist for a man so long as he refuses to recognise +it.' + +'H'm ... what you've just said is a common-place reversed.' + +'What? What do you mean by that term?' + +'I'll tell you; saying, for instance, that education is beneficial, +that's a common-place; but to say that education is injurious, that's a +common-place turned upside down. There's more style about it, so to +say, but in reality it's one and the same.' + +'And the truth is--where, which side?' + +'Where? Like an echo I answer, Where?' + +'You're in a melancholy mood to-day, Yevgeny.' + +'Really? The sun must have softened my brain, I suppose, and I can't +stand so many raspberries either.' + +'In that case, a nap's not a bad thing,' observed Arkady. + +'Certainly; only don't look at me; every man's face is stupid when he's +asleep.' + +'But isn't it all the same to you what people think of you?' + +'I don't know what to say to you. A real man ought not to care; a real +man is one whom it's no use thinking about, whom one must either obey +or hate.' + +'It's funny! I don't hate anybody,' observed Arkady, after a moment's +thought. + +'And I hate so many. You are a soft-hearted, mawkish creature; how +could you hate any one?... You're timid; you don't rely on yourself +much.' + +'And you,' interrupted Arkady, 'do you expect much of yourself? Have +you a high opinion of yourself?' + +Bazarov paused. 'When I meet a man who can hold his own beside me,' he +said, dwelling on every syllable, 'then I'll change my opinion of +myself. Yes, hatred! You said, for instance, to-day as we passed our +bailiff Philip's cottage--it's the one that's so nice and clean--well, +you said, Russia will come to perfection when the poorest peasant has a +house like that, and every one of us ought to work to bring it +about.... And I felt such a hatred for this poorest peasant, this +Philip or Sidor, for whom I'm to be ready to jump out of my skin, and +who won't even thank me for it ... and why should he thank me? Why, +suppose he does live in a clean house, while the nettles are growing +out of me,--well what do I gain by it?' + +'Hush, Yevgeny ... if one listened to you to-day one would be driven to +agreeing with those who reproach us for want of principles.' + +'You talk like your uncle. There are no general principles--you've not +made out that even yet! There are feelings. Everything depends on +them.' + +'How so?' + +'Why, I, for instance, take up a negative attitude, by virtue of my +sensations; I like to deny--my brain's made on that plan, and that's +all about it! Why do I like chemistry? Why do you like apples?--by +virtue of our sensations. It's all the same thing. Deeper than that men +will never penetrate. Not every one will tell you that, and, in fact, I +shan't tell you so another time.' + +'What? and is honesty a matter of the senses?' + +'I should rather think so.' + +'Yevgeny!' Arkady was beginning in a dejected voice ... + +'Well? What? Isn't it to your taste?' broke in Bazarov. 'No, brother. +If you've made up your mind to mow down everything, don't spare your +own legs. But we've talked enough metaphysics. "Nature breathes the +silence of sleep," said Pushkin.' + +'He never said anything of the sort,' protested Arkady. + +'Well, if he didn't, as a poet he might have--and ought to have said +it. By the way, he must have been a military man.' + +'Pushkin never was a military man!' + +'Why, on every page of him there's, "To arms! to arms! for Russia's +honour!"' + +'Why, what stories you invent! I declare, it's positive calumny.' + +'Calumny? That's a mighty matter! What a word he's found to frighten me +with! Whatever charge you make against a man, you may be certain he +deserves twenty times worse than that in reality.' + +'We had better go to sleep,' said Arkady, in a tone of vexation. + +'With the greatest pleasure,' answered Bazarov. But neither of them +slept. A feeling almost of hostility had come over both the young men. +Five minutes later, they opened their eyes and glanced at one another +in silence. + +'Look,' said Arkady suddenly, 'a dry maple leaf has come off and is +falling to the earth; its movement is exactly like a butterfly's +flight. Isn't it strange? Gloom and decay--like brightness and life.' + +'Oh, my friend, Arkady Nikolaitch!' cried Bazarov, 'one thing I entreat +of you; no fine talk.' + +'I talk as best I can.... And, I declare, its perfect despotism. An +idea came into my head; why shouldn't I utter it?' + +'Yes; and why shouldn't I utter my ideas? I think that fine talk's +positively indecent.' + +'And what is decent? Abuse?' + +'Ha! ha! you really do intend, I see, to walk in your uncle's +footsteps. How pleased that worthy imbecile would have been if he had +heard you!' + +'What did you call Pavel Petrovitch?' + +'I called him, very justly, an imbecile.' + +'But this is unbearable!' cried Arkady. + +'Aha! family feeling spoke there,' Bazarov commented coolly. 'I've +noticed how obstinately it sticks to people. A man's ready to give up +everything and break with every prejudice; but to admit that his +brother, for instance, who steals handkerchiefs, is a thief--that's too +much for him. And when one comes to think of it: my brother, mine--and +no genius ... that's an idea no one can swallow.' + +'It was a simple sense of justice spoke in me and not in the least +family feeling,' retorted Arkady passionately. 'But since that's a +sense you don't understand, since you haven't that sensation, you can't +judge of it.' + +'In other words, Arkady Kirsanov is too exalted for my comprehension. I +bow down before him and say no more.' + +'Don't, please, Yevgeny; we shall really quarrel at last.' + +'Ah, Arkady! do me a kindness. I entreat you, let us quarrel for once +in earnest....' + +'But then perhaps we should end by ...' + +'Fighting?' put in Bazarov. 'Well? Here, on the hay, in these idyllic +surroundings, far from the world and the eyes of men, it wouldn't +matter. But you'd be no match for me. I'll have you by the throat in a +minute.' + +Bazarov spread out his long, cruel fingers.... Arkady turned round and +prepared, as though in jest, to resist.... But his friend's face struck +him as so vindictive--there was such menace in grim earnest in the +smile that distorted his lips, and in his glittering eyes, that he felt +instinctively afraid. + +'Ah! so this is where you have got to!' the voice of Vassily Ivanovitch +was heard saying at that instant, and the old army-doctor appeared +before the young men, garbed in a home-made linen pea-jacket, with a +straw hat, also home-made, on his head. 'I've been looking everywhere +for you.... Well, you've picked out a capital place, and you're +excellently employed. Lying on the "earth, gazing up to heaven." Do you +know, there's a special significance in that?' + +'I never gaze up to heaven except when I want to sneeze,' growled +Bazarov, and turning to Arkady he added in an undertone. 'Pity he +interrupted us.' + +'Come, hush!' whispered Arkady, and he secretly squeezed his friend's +hand. But no friendship can long stand such shocks. + +'I look at you, my youthful friends,' Vassily Ivanovitch was saying +meantime, shaking his head, and leaning his folded arms on a rather +cunningly bent stick of his own carving, with a Turk's figure for a +top,--'I look, and I cannot refrain from admiration. You have so much +strength, such youth and bloom, such abilities, such talents! +Positively, a Castor and Pollux!' + +'Get along with you--going off into mythology!' commented Bazarov. 'You +can see at once that he was a great Latinist in his day! Why, I seem to +remember, you gained the silver medal for Latin prose--didn't you?' + +'The Dioscuri, the Dioscuri!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch. + +'Come, shut up, father; don't show off.' + +'Once in a way it's surely permissible,' murmured the old man. +'However, I have not been seeking for you, gentlemen, to pay you +compliments; but with the object, in the first place, of announcing to +you that we shall soon be dining; and secondly, I wanted to prepare +you, Yevgeny.... You are a sensible man, you know the world, and you +know what women are, and consequently you will excuse.... Your mother +wished to have a Te Deum sung on the occasion of your arrival. You must +not imagine that I am inviting you to attend this thanksgiving--it is +over indeed now; but Father Alexey ...' + +'The village parson?' + +'Well, yes, the priest; he ... is to dine ... with us.... I did not +anticipate this, and did not even approve of it ... but it somehow came +about ... he did not understand me.... And, well ... Arina Vlasyevna +... Besides, he's a worthy, reasonable man.' + +'He won't eat my share at dinner, I suppose?' queried Bazarov. + +Vassily Ivanovitch laughed. 'How you talk!' + +'Well, that's all I ask. I'm ready to sit down to table with any man.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch set his hat straight. 'I was certain before I +spoke,' he said, 'that you were above any kind of prejudice. Here am I, +an old man at sixty-two, and I have none.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not +dare to confess that he had himself desired the thanksgiving service. +He was no less religious than his wife.) 'And Father Alexey very much +wanted to make your acquaintance. You will like him, you'll see. He's +no objection even to cards, and he sometimes--but this is between +ourselves ... positively smokes a pipe.' + +'All right. We'll have a round of whist after dinner, and I'll clean +him out.' + +'He! he! he! We shall see! That remains to be seen.' + +'I know you're an old hand,' said Bazarov, with a peculiar emphasis. + +Vassily Ivanovitch's bronzed cheeks were suffused with an uneasy flush. + +'For shame, Yevgeny.... Let bygones be bygones. Well, I'm ready to +acknowledge before this gentleman I had that passion in my youth; and I +have paid for it too! How hot it is, though! Let me sit down with you. +I shan't be in your way, I hope?' + +'Oh, not at all,' answered Arkady. + +Vassily Ivanovitch lowered himself, sighing, into the hay. 'Your +present quarters remind me, my dear sirs,' he began, 'of my military +bivouacking existence, the ambulance halts, somewhere like this under a +haystack, and even for that we were thankful.' He sighed. 'I had many, +many experiences in my life. For example, if you will allow me, I will +tell you a curious episode of the plague in Bessarabia.' + +'For which you got the Vladimir cross?' put in Bazarov. 'We know, we +know.... By the way, why is it you're not wearing it?' + +'Why, I told you that I have no prejudices,' muttered Vassily +Ivanovitch (he had only the evening before had the red ribbon unpicked +off his coat), and he proceeded to relate the episode of the plague. +'Why, he's fallen asleep,' he whispered all at once to Arkady, pointing +to Yevgeny, and winking good-naturedly. 'Yevgeny! get up,' he went on +aloud. 'Let's go in to dinner.' + +Father Alexey, a good-looking stout man with thick, carefully-combed +hair, with an embroidered girdle round his lilac silk cassock, appeared +to be a man of much tact and adaptability. He made haste to be the +first to offer his hand to Arkady and Bazarov, as though understanding +beforehand that they did not want his blessing, and he behaved himself +in general without constraint. He neither derogated from his own +dignity, nor gave offence to others; he vouchsafed a passing smile at +the seminary Latin, and stood up for his bishop; drank two small +glasses of wine, but refused a third; accepted a cigar from Arkady, but +did not proceed to smoke it, saying he would take it home with him. The +only thing not quite agreeable about him was a way he had of constantly +raising his hand with care and deliberation to catch the flies on his +face, sometimes succeeding in smashing them. He took his seat at the +green table, expressing his satisfaction at so doing in measured terms, +and ended by winning from Bazarov two roubles and a half in paper +money; they had no idea of even reckoning in silver in the house of +Arina Vlasyevna.... She was sitting, as before, near her son (she did +not play cards), her cheek, as before, propped on her little fist; she +only got up to order some new dainty to be served. She was afraid to +caress Bazarov, and he gave her no encouragement, he did not invite her +caresses; and besides, Vassily Ivanovitch had advised her not to +'worry' him too much. 'Young men are not fond of that sort of thing,' +he declared to her. (It's needless to say what the dinner was like that +day; Timofeitch in person had galloped off at early dawn for beef; the +bailiff had gone off in another direction for turbot, gremille, and +crayfish; for mushrooms alone forty-two farthings had been paid the +peasant women in copper); but Arina Vlasyevna's eyes, bent steadfastly +on Bazarov, did not express only devotion and tenderness; in them was +to be seen sorrow also, mingled with awe and curiosity; there was to be +seen too a sort of humble reproachfulness. + +Bazarov, however, was not in a humour to analyse the exact expression +of his mother's eyes; he seldom turned to her, and then only with some +short question. Once he asked her for her hand 'for luck'; she gently +laid her soft, little hand on his rough, broad palm. + +'Well,' she asked, after waiting a little, 'has it been any use?' + +'Worse luck than ever,' he answered, with a careless laugh. + +'He plays too rashly,' pronounced Father Alexey, as it were +compassionately, and he stroked his beard. + +'Napoleon's rule, good Father, Napoleon's rule,' put in Vassily +Ivanovitch, leading an ace. + +'It brought him to St. Helena, though,' observed Father Alexey, as he +trumped the ace. + +'Wouldn't you like some currant tea, Enyusha?' inquired Arina +Vlasyevna. + +Bazarov merely shrugged his shoulders. + +'No!' he said to Arkady the next day. I'm off from here to-morrow. I'm +bored; I want to work, but I can't work here. I will come to your place +again; I've left all my apparatus there too. In your house one can at +any rate shut oneself up. While here my father repeats to me, "My study +is at your disposal--nobody shall interfere with you," and all the time +he himself is never a yard away. And I'm ashamed somehow to shut myself +away from him. It's the same thing too with mother. I hear her sighing +the other side of the wall, and if one goes in to her, one's nothing to +say to her.' + +'She will be very much grieved,' observed Arkady, 'and so will he.' + +'I shall come back again to them.' + +'When?' + +'Why, when on my way to Petersburg.' + +'I feel sorry for your mother particularly.' + +'Why's that? Has she won your heart with strawberries, or what?' + +Arkady dropped his eyes. 'You don't understand your mother, Yevgeny. +She's not only a very good woman, she's very clever really. This +morning she talked to me for half-an-hour, and so sensibly, +interestingly.' + +'I suppose she was expatiating upon me all the while?' + +'We didn't talk only about you.' + +'Perhaps; lookers-on see most. If a woman can keep up half-an-hour's +conversation, it's always a hopeful sign. But I'm going, all the same.' + +'It won't be very easy for you to break it to them. They are always +making plans for what we are to do in a fortnight's time.' + +'No; it won't be easy. Some demon drove me to tease my father to-day; +he had one of his rent-paying peasants flogged the other day, and quite +right too--yes, yes, you needn't look at me in such horror--he did +quite right, because he's an awful thief and drunkard; only my father +had no idea that I, as they say, was cognisant of the facts. He was +greatly perturbed, and now I shall have to upset him more than ever.... +Never mind! Never say die! He'll get over it!' + +Bazarov said, 'Never mind'; but the whole day passed before he could +make up his mind to inform Vassily Ivanovitch of his intentions. At +last, when he was just saying good-night to him in the study, he +observed, with a feigned yawn-- + +'Oh ... I was almost forgetting to tell you.... Send to Fedot's for our +horses to-morrow.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch was dumbfounded. 'Is Mr. Kirsanov leaving us, then?' + +'Yes; and I'm going with him.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch positively reeled. 'You are going?' + +'Yes ... I must. Make the arrangements about the horses, please.' + +'Very good....' faltered the old man; 'to Fedot's ... very good ... +only ... only.... How is it?' + +'I must go to stay with him for a little time. I will come back again +later.' + +'Ah! For a little time ... very good.' Vassily Ivanovitch drew out his +handkerchief, and, blowing his nose, doubled up almost to the ground. +'Well ... everything shall be done. I had thought you were to be with +us ... a little longer. Three days.... After three years, it's rather +little; rather little, Yevgeny!' + +'But, I tell you, I'm coming back directly. It's necessary for me to +go.' + +'Necessary.... Well! Duty before everything. So the horses shall be in +readiness. Very good. Arina and I, of course, did not anticipate this. +She has just begged some flowers from a neighbour; she meant to +decorate the room for you.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not even mention +that every morning almost at dawn he took counsel with Timofeitch, +standing with his bare feet in his slippers, and pulling out with +trembling fingers one dog's-eared rouble note after another, charged +him with various purchases, with special reference to good things to +eat, and to red wine, which, as far as he could observe, the young men +liked extremely.) 'Liberty ... is the great thing; that's my rule.... I +don't want to hamper you ... not ...' + +He suddenly ceased, and made for the door. + +'We shall soon see each other again, father, really.' + +But Vassily Ivanovitch, without turning round, merely waved his hand +and was gone. When he got back to his bedroom he found his wife in bed, +and began to say his prayers in a whisper, so as not to wake her up. +She woke, however. 'Is that you, Vassily Ivanovitch?' she asked. + +'Yes, mother.' + +'Have you come from Enyusha? Do you know, I'm afraid of his not being +comfortable on that sofa. I told Anfisushka to put him on your +travelling mattress and the new pillows; I should have given him our +feather-bed, but I seem to remember he doesn't like too soft a bed....' + +'Never mind, mother; don't worry yourself. He's all right. Lord, have +mercy on me, a sinner,' he went on with his prayer in a low voice. +Vassily Ivanovitch was sorry for his old wife; he did not mean to tell +her over night what a sorrow there was in store for her. + +Bazarov and Arkady set off the next day. From early morning all was +dejection in the house; Anfisushka let the tray slip out of her hands; +even Fedka was bewildered, and was reduced to taking off his boots. +Vassily Ivanitch was more fussy than ever; he was obviously trying to +put a good face on it, talked loudly, and stamped with his feet, but +his face looked haggard, and his eyes were continually avoiding his +son. Arina Vlasyevna was crying quietly; she was utterly crushed, and +could not have controlled herself at all if her husband had not spent +two whole hours early in the morning exhorting her. When Bazarov, after +repeated promises to come back certainly not later than in a month's +time, tore himself at last from the embraces detaining him, and took +his seat in the coach; when the horses had started, the bell was +ringing, and the wheels were turning round, and when it was no longer +any good to look after them, and the dust had settled, and Timofeitch, +all bent and tottering as he walked, had crept back to his little room; +when the old people were left alone in their little house, which seemed +suddenly to have grown shrunken and decrepit too, Vassily Ivanovitch, +after a few more moments of hearty waving of his handkerchief on the +steps, sank into a chair, and his head dropped on to his breast. 'He +has cast us off; he has forsaken us,' he faltered; 'forsaken us; he was +dull with us. Alone, alone!' he repeated several times. Then Arina +Vlasyevna went up to him, and, leaning her grey head against his grey +head, said, 'There's no help for it, Vasya! A son is a separate piece +cut off. He's like the falcon that flies home and flies away at his +pleasure; while you and I are like funguses in the hollow of a tree, we +sit side by side, and don't move from our place. Only I am left you +unchanged for ever, as you for me.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch took his hands from his face and clasped his wife, +his friend, as warmly as he had never clasped in youth; she comforted +him in his grief. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +In silence, only rarely exchanging a few insignificant words, our +friends travelled as far as Fedot's. Bazarov was not altogether pleased +with himself. Arkady was displeased with him. He was feeling, too, that +causeless melancholy which is only known to very young people. The +coachman changed the horses, and getting up on to the box, inquired, +'To the right or to the left?' + +Arkady started. The road to the right led to the town, and from there +home; the road to the left led to Madame Odintsov's. + +He looked at Bazarov. + +'Yevgeny,' he queried; 'to the left?' + +Bazarov turned away. 'What folly is this?' he muttered. + +'I know it's folly,' answered Arkady.... 'But what does that matter? +It's not the first time.' + +Bazarov pulled his cap down over his brows. 'As you choose,' he said at +last. 'Turn to the left,' shouted Arkady. + +The coach rolled away in the direction of Nikolskoe. But having +resolved on the folly, the friends were even more obstinately silent +than before, and seemed positively ill-humoured. + +Directly the steward met them on the steps of Madame Odintsov's house, +the friends could perceive that they had acted injudiciously in giving +way so suddenly to a passing impulse. They were obviously not expected. +They sat rather a long while, looking rather foolish, in the +drawing-room. Madame Odintsov came in to them at last. She greeted them +with her customary politeness, but was surprised at their hasty return; +and, so far as could be judged from the deliberation of her gestures +and words, she was not over pleased at it. They made haste to announce +that they had only called on their road, and must go on farther, to the +town, within four hours. She confined herself to a light exclamation, +begged Arkady to remember her to his father, and sent for her aunt. The +princess appeared very sleepy, which gave her wrinkled old face an even +more ill-natured expression. Katya was not well; she did not leave her +room. Arkady suddenly realised that he was at least as anxious to see +Katya as Anna Sergyevna herself. The four hours were spent in +insignificant discussion of one thing and another; Anna Sergyevna both +listened and spoke without a smile. It was only quite at parting that +her former friendliness seemed, as it were, to revive. + +'I have an attack of spleen just now,' she said; 'but you must not pay +attention to that, and come again--I say this to both of you--before +long.' + +Both Bazarov and Arkady responded with a silent bow, took their seats +in the coach, and without stopping again anywhere, went straight home +to Maryino, where they arrived safely on the evening of the following +day. During the whole course of the journey neither one nor the other +even mentioned the name of Madame Odintsov; Bazarov, in particular, +scarcely opened his mouth, and kept staring in a side direction away +from the road, with a kind of exasperated intensity. + +At Maryino every one was exceedingly delighted to see them. The +prolonged absence of his son had begun to make Nikolai Petrovitch +uneasy; he uttered a cry of joy, and bounced about on the sofa, +dangling his legs, when Fenitchka ran to him with sparkling eyes, and +informed him of the arrival of the 'young gentlemen'; even Pavel +Petrovitch was conscious of some degree of agreeable excitement, and +smiled condescendingly as he shook hands with the returned wanderers. +Talk, questions followed; Arkady talked most, especially at supper, +which was prolonged long after midnight. Nikolai Petrovitch ordered up +some bottles of porter which had only just been sent from Moscow, and +partook of the festive beverage till his cheeks were crimson, and he +kept laughing in a half-childish, half-nervous little chuckle. Even the +servants were infected by the general gaiety. Dunyasha ran up and down +like one possessed, and was continually slamming doors; while Piotr +was, at three o'clock in the morning, still attempting to strum a +Cossack waltz on the guitar. The strings gave forth a sweet and +plaintive sound in the still air; but with the exception of a small +preliminary flourish, nothing came of the cultured valet's efforts; +nature had given him no more musical talent than all the rest of the +world. + +But meanwhile things were not going over harmoniously at Maryino, and +poor Nikolai Petrovitch was having a bad time of it. Difficulties on +the farm sprang up every day--senseless, distressing difficulties. The +troubles with the hired labourers had become insupportable. Some asked +for their wages to be settled, or for an increase of wages, while +others made off with the wages they had received in advance; the horses +fell sick; the harness fell to pieces as though it were burnt; the work +was carelessly done; a threshing machine that had been ordered from +Moscow turned out to be useless from its great weight, another was +ruined the first time it was used; half the cattle sheds were burnt +down through an old blind woman on the farm going in windy weather with +a burning brand to fumigate her cow ... the old woman, it is true, +maintained that the whole mischief could be traced to the master's plan +of introducing newfangled cheeses and milk-products. The overseer +suddenly turned lazy, and began to grow fat, as every Russian grows fat +when he gets a snug berth. When he caught sight of Nikolai Petrovitch +in the distance, he would fling a stick at a passing pig, or threaten a +half-naked urchin, to show his zeal, but the rest of the time he was +generally asleep. The peasants who had been put on the rent system did +not bring their money at the time due, and stole the forest-timber; +almost every night the keepers caught peasants' horses in the meadows +of the 'farm,' and sometimes forcibly bore them off. Nikolai Petrovitch +would fix a money fine for damages, but the matter usually ended after +the horses had been kept a day or two on the master's forage by their +returning to their owners. To crown all, the peasants began quarrelling +among themselves; brothers asked for a division of property, their +wives could not get on together in one house; all of a sudden the +squabble, as though at a given signal, came to a head, and at once the +whole village came running to the counting-house steps, crawling to the +master often drunken and with battered face, demanding justice and +judgment; then arose an uproar and clamour, the shrill wailing of the +women mixed with the curses of the men. Then one had to examine the +contending parties, and shout oneself hoarse, knowing all the while +that one could never anyway arrive at a just decision.... There were +not hands enough for the harvest; a neighbouring small owner, with the +most benevolent countenance, contracted to supply him with reapers for +a commission of two roubles an acre, and cheated him in the most +shameless fashion; his peasant women demanded unheard-of sums, and the +corn meanwhile went to waste; and here they were not getting on with +the mowing, and there the Council of Guardians threatened and demanded +prompt payment, in full, of interest due.... + +'I can do nothing!' Nikolai Petrovitch cried more than once in despair. +'I can't flog them myself; and as for calling in the police captain, my +principles don't allow of it, while you can do nothing with them +without the fear of punishment!' + +'_Du calme_, _du calme_,' Pavel Petrovitch would remark upon this, but +even he hummed to himself, knitted his brows, and tugged at his +moustache. + +Bazarov held aloof from these matters, and indeed as a guest it was not +for him to meddle in other people's business. The day after his arrival +at Maryino, he set to work on his frogs, his infusoria, and his +chemical experiments, and was for ever busy with them. Arkady, on the +contrary, thought it his duty, if not to help his father, at least to +make a show of being ready to help him. He gave him a patient hearing, +and once offered him some advice, not with any idea of its being acted +upon, but to show his interest. Farming details did not arouse any +aversion in him; he used even to dream with pleasure of work on the +land, but at this time his brain was swarming with other ideas. Arkady, +to his own astonishment, thought incessantly of Nikolskoe; in former +days he would simply have shrugged his shoulders if any one had told +him that he could ever feel dull under the same roof as Bazarov--and +that roof his father's! but he actually was dull and longed to get +away. He tried going long walks till he was tired, but that was no use. +In conversation with his father one day, he found out that Nikolai +Petrovitch had in his possession rather interesting letters, written by +Madame Odintsov's mother to his wife, and he gave him no rest till he +got hold of the letters, for which Nikolai Petrovitch had to rummage in +twenty drawers and boxes. Having gained possession of these +half-crumbling papers, Arkady felt, as it were, soothed, just as though +he had caught a glimpse of the goal towards which he ought now to go. +'I mean that for both of you,' he was constantly whispering--she had +added that herself! 'I'll go, I'll go, hang it all!' But he recalled +the last visit, the cold reception, and his former embarrassment, and +timidity got the better of him. The 'go-ahead' feeling of youth, the +secret desire to try his luck, to prove his powers in solitude, without +the protection of any one whatever, gained the day at last. Before ten +days had passed after his return to Maryino, on the pretext of studying +the working of the Sunday schools, he galloped off to the town again, +and from there to Nikolskoe. Urging the driver on without intermission, +he flew along, like a young officer riding to battle; and he felt both +frightened and light-hearted, and was breathless with impatience. 'The +great thing is--one mustn't think,' he kept repeating to himself. His +driver happened to be a lad of spirit; he halted before every public +house, saying, 'A drink or not a drink?' but, to make up for it, when +he had drunk he did not spare his horses. At last the lofty roof of the +familiar house came in sight.... 'What am I to do?' flashed through +Arkady's head. 'Well, there's no turning back now!' The three horses +galloped in unison; the driver whooped and whistled at them. And now +the bridge was groaning under the hoofs and wheels, and now the avenue +of lopped pines seemed running to meet them.... There was a glimpse of +a woman's pink dress against the dark green, a young face from under +the light fringe of a parasol.... He recognised Katya, and she +recognised him. Arkady told the driver to stop the galloping horses, +leaped out of the carriage, and went up to her. 'It's you!' she cried, +gradually flushing all over; 'let us go to my sister, she's here in the +garden; she will be pleased to see you.' + +Katya led Arkady into the garden. His meeting with her struck him as a +particularly happy omen; he was delighted to see her, as though she +were of his own kindred. Everything had happened so splendidly; no +steward, no formal announcement. At a turn in the path he caught sight +of Anna Sergyevna. She was standing with her back to him. Hearing +footsteps, she turned slowly round. + +Arkady felt confused again, but the first words she uttered soothed him +at once. 'Welcome back, runaway!' she said in her even, caressing +voice, and came to meet him, smiling and frowning to keep the sun and +wind out of her eyes. 'Where did you pick him up, Katya?' + +'I have brought you something, Anna Sergyevna,' he began, 'which you +certainly don't expect.' + +'You have brought yourself; that's better than anything.' + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +Having seen Arkady off with ironical compassion, and given him to +understand that he was not in the least deceived as to the real object +of his journey, Bazarov shut himself up in complete solitude; he was +overtaken by a fever for work. He did not dispute now with Pavel +Petrovitch, especially as the latter assumed an excessively +aristocratic demeanour in his presence, and expressed his opinions more +in inarticulate sounds than in words. Only on one occasion Pavel +Petrovitch fell into a controversy with the _nihilist_ on the subject +of the question then much discussed of the rights of the nobles of the +Baltic province; but suddenly he stopped of his own accord, remarking +with chilly politeness, 'However, we cannot understand one another; I, +at least, have not the honour of understanding you.' + +'I should think not!' cried Bazarov. 'A man's capable of understanding +anything--how the æther vibrates, and what's going on in the sun--but +how any other man can blow his nose differently from him, that he's +incapable of understanding.' + +'What, is that an epigram?' observed Pavel Petrovitch inquiringly, and +he walked away. + +However, he sometimes asked permission to be present at Bazarov's +experiments, and once even placed his perfumed face, washed with the +very best soap, near the microscope to see how a transparent infusoria +swallowed a green speck, and busily munched it with two very rapid sort +of clappers which were in its throat. Nikolai Petrovitch visited +Bazarov much oftener than his brother; he would have come every day, as +he expressed it, to 'study,' if his worries on the farm had not taken +off his attention. He did not hinder the young man in his scientific +researches; he used to sit down somewhere in a corner of the room and +look on attentively, occasionally permitting himself a discreet +question. During dinner and supper-time he used to try to turn the +conversation upon physics, geology, or chemistry, seeing that all other +topics, even agriculture, to say nothing of politics, might lead, if +not to collisions, at least to mutual unpleasantness. Nikolai +Petrovitch surmised that his brother's dislike for Bazarov was no less. +An unimportant incident, among many others, confirmed his surmises. The +cholera began to make its appearance in some places in the +neighbourhood, and even 'carried off' two persons from Maryino itself. +In the night Pavel Petrovitch happened to have rather severe symptoms. +He was in pain till the morning, but did not have recourse to Bazarov's +skill. And when he met him the following day, in reply to his question, +'Why he had not sent for him?' answered, still quite pale, but +scrupulously brushed and shaved, 'Why, I seem to recollect you said +yourself you didn't believe in medicine.' So the days went by. Bazarov +went on obstinately and grimly working ... and meanwhile there was in +Nikolai Petrovitch's house one creature to whom, if he did not open his +heart, he at least was glad to talk.... That creature was Fenitchka. + +He used to meet her for the most part early in the morning, in the +garden, or the farmyard; he never used to go to her room to see her, +and she had only once been to his door to inquire--ought she to let +Mitya have his bath or not? It was not only that she confided in him, +that she was not afraid of him--she was positively freer and more at +her ease in her behaviour with him than with Nikolai Petrovitch +himself. It is hard to say how it came about; perhaps it was because +she unconsciously felt the absence in Bazarov of all gentility, of all +that superiority which at once attracts and overawes. In her eyes he +was both an excellent doctor and a simple man. She looked after her +baby without constraint in his presence; and once when she was suddenly +attacked with giddiness and headache--she took a spoonful of medicine +from his hand. Before Nikolai Petrovitch she kept, as it were, at a +distance from Bazarov; she acted in this way not from hypocrisy, but +from a kind of feeling of propriety. Pavel Petrovitch she was more +afraid of than ever; for some time he had begun to watch her, and would +suddenly make his appearance, as though he sprang out of the earth +behind her back, in his English suit, with his immovable vigilant face, +and his hands in his pockets. 'It's like a bucket of cold water on +one,' Fenitchka complained to Dunyasha, and the latter sighed in +response, and thought of another 'heartless' man. Bazarov, without the +least suspicion of the fact, had become the _cruel tyrant_ of her +heart. + +Fenitchka liked Bazarov; but he liked her too. His face was positively +transformed when he talked to her; it took a bright, almost kind +expression, and his habitual nonchalance was replaced by a sort of +jesting attentiveness. Fenitchka was growing prettier every day. There +is a time in the life of young women when they suddenly begin to expand +and blossom like summer roses; this time had come for Fenitchka. +Dressed in a delicate white dress, she seemed herself slighter and +whiter; she was not tanned by the sun; but the heat, from which she +could not shield herself, spread a slight flush over her cheeks and +ears, and, shedding a soft indolence over her whole body, was reflected +in a dreamy languor in her pretty eyes. She was almost unable to work; +her hands seem to fall naturally into her lap. She scarcely walked at +all, and was constantly sighing and complaining with comic +helplessness. + +'You should go oftener to bathe,' Nikolai Petrovitch told her. He had +made a large bath covered in with an awning in one of his ponds which +had not yet quite disappeared. + +'Oh, Nikolai Petrovitch! But by the time one gets to the pond, one's +utterly dead, and, coming back, one's dead again. You see, there's no +shade in the garden.' + +'That's true, there's no shade,' replied Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing +his forehead. + +One day at seven o'clock in the morning Bazarov, returning from a walk, +came upon Fenitchka in the lilac arbour, which was long past flowering, +but was still thick and green. She was sitting on the garden seat, and +had as usual thrown a white kerchief over her head; near her lay a +whole heap of red and white roses still wet with dew. He said good +morning to her. + +'Ah! Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and lifted the edge of her +kerchief a little to look at him, in doing which her arm was left bare +to the elbow. + +'What are you doing here?' said Bazarov, sitting down beside her. 'Are +you making a nosegay?' + +'Yes, for the table at lunch. Nikolai Petrovitch likes it.' + +'But it's a long while yet to lunch time. What a heap of flowers!' + +'I gathered them now, for it will be hot then, and one can't go out. +One can only just breathe now. I feel quite weak with the heat. I'm +really afraid whether I'm not going to be ill.' + +'What an idea! Let me feel your pulse.' Bazarov took her hand, felt for +the evenly-beating pulse, but did not even begin to count its throbs. +'You'll live a hundred years!' he said, dropping her hand. + +'Ah, God forbid!' she cried. + +'Why? Don't you want a long life?' + +'Well, but a hundred years! There was an old woman near us eighty-five +years old--and what a martyr she was! Dirty and deaf and bent and +coughing all the time; nothing but a burden to herself. That's a +dreadful life!' + +'So it's better to be young?' + +'Well, isn't it?' + +'But why is it better? Tell me!' + +'How can you ask why? Why, here I now, while I'm young, I can do +everything--go and come and carry, and needn't ask any one for +anything.... What can be better?' + +'And to me it's all the same whether I'm young or old.' + +'How do you mean--it's all the same? It's not possible what you say.' + +'Well, judge for yourself, Fedosya Nikolaevna, what good is my youth to +me. I live alone, a poor lonely creature ...' + +'That always depends on you.' + +'It doesn't at all depend on me! At least, some one ought to take pity +on me.' + +Fenitchka gave a sidelong look at Bazarov, but said nothing. 'What's +this book you have?' she asked after a short pause. + +'That? That's a scientific book, very difficult.' + +'And are you still studying? And don't you find it dull? You know +everything already I should say.' + +'It seems not everything. You try to read a little.' + +'But I don't understand anything here. Is it Russian?' asked Fenitchka, +taking the heavily bound book in both hands. 'How thick it is!' + +'Yes, it's Russian.' + +'All the same, I shan't understand anything.' + +'Well, I didn't give it you for you to understand it. I wanted to look +at you while you were reading. When you read, the end of your little +nose moves so nicely.' + +Fenitchka, who had set to work to spell out in a low voice the article +on 'Creosote' she had chanced upon, laughed and threw down the book ... +it slipped from the seat on to the ground. + +'Nonsense!' + +'I like it too when you laugh,' observed Bazarov. + +'I like it when you talk. It's just like a little brook babbling.' + +Fenitchka turned her head away. 'What a person you are to talk!' she +commented, picking the flowers over with her finger. 'And how can you +care to listen to me? You have talked with such clever ladies.' + +'Ah, Fedosya Nikolaevna! believe me; all the clever ladies in the world +are not worth your little elbow.' + +'Come, there's another invention!' murmured Fenitchka, clasping her +hands. + +Bazarov picked the book up from the ground. + +'That's a medical book; why do you throw it away?' + +'Medical?' repeated Fenitchka, and she turned to him again. 'Do you +know, ever since you gave me those drops--do you remember?--Mitya has +slept so well! I really can't think how to thank you; you are so good, +really.' + +'But you have to pay doctors,' observed Bazarov with a smile. 'Doctors, +you know yourself, are grasping people.' + +Fenitchka raised her eyes, which seemed still darker from the whitish +reflection cast on the upper part of her face, and looked at Bazarov. +She did not know whether he was joking or not. + +'If you please, we shall be delighted.... I must ask Nikolai +Petrovitch ...' + +'Why, do you think I want money?' Bazarov interposed. 'No; I don't want +money from you.' + +'What then?' asked Fenitchka. + +'What?' repeated Bazarov. 'Guess!' + +'A likely person I am to guess!' + +'Well, I will tell you; I want ... one of those roses.' + +Fenitchka laughed again, and even clapped her hands, so amusing +Bazarov's request seemed to her. She laughed, and at the same time felt +flattered. Bazarov was looking intently at her. + +'By all means,' she said at last; and, bending down to the seat, she +began picking over the roses. 'Which will you have--a red one or a +white one?' + +'Red, and not too large.' + +She sat up again. 'Here, take it,' she said, but at once drew back her +outstretched hand, and, biting her lips, looked towards the entrance of +the arbour, then listened. + +'What is it?' asked Bazarov. 'Nikolai Petrovitch?' + +'No ... Mr. Kirsanov has gone to the fields ... besides, I'm not afraid +of him ... but Pavel Petrovitch ... I fancied ...' + +'What?' + +'I fancied he was coming here. No ... it was no one. Take it.' +Fenitchka gave Bazarov the rose. + +'On what grounds are you afraid of Pavel Petrovitch?' + +'He always scares me. And I know you don't like him. Do you remember, +you always used to quarrel with him? I don't know what your quarrel was +about, but I can see you turn him about like this and like that.' + +Fenitchka showed with her hands how in her opinion Bazarov turned Pavel +Petrovitch about. + +Bazarov smiled. 'But if he gave me a beating,' he asked, 'would you +stand up for me?' + +'How could I stand up for you? but no, no one will get the better of +you.' + +'Do you think so? But I know a hand which could overcome me if it +liked.' + +'What hand?' + +'Why, don't you know, really? Smell, how delicious this rose smells you +gave me.' + +Fenitchka stretched her little neck forward, and put her face close to +the flower.... The kerchief slipped from her head on to her shoulders; +her soft mass of dark, shining, slightly ruffled hair was visible. + +'Wait a minute; I want to smell it with you,' said Bazarov. He bent +down and kissed her vigorously on her parted lips. + +She started, pushed him back with both her hands on his breast, but +pushed feebly, and he was able to renew and prolong his kiss. + +A dry cough was heard behind the lilac bushes. Fenitchka instantly +moved away to the other end of the seat. Pavel Petrovitch showed +himself, made a slight bow, and saying with a sort of malicious +mournfulness, 'You are here,' he retreated. Fenitchka at once gathered +up all her roses and went out of the arbour. 'It was wrong of you, +Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' she whispered as she went. There was a note of +genuine reproach in her whisper. + +Bazarov remembered another recent scene, and he felt both shame and +contemptuous annoyance. But he shook his head directly, ironically +congratulated himself 'on his final assumption of the part of the gay +Lothario,' and went off to his own room. + +Pavel Petrovitch went out of the garden, and made his way with +deliberate steps to the copse. He stayed there rather a long while; and +when he returned to lunch, Nikolai Petrovitch inquired anxiously +whether he were quite well--his face looked so gloomy. + +'You know, I sometimes suffer with my liver,' Pavel Petrovitch answered +tranquilly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +Two hours later he knocked at Bazarov's door. + +'I must apologise for hindering you in your scientific pursuits,' he +began, seating himself on a chair in the window, and leaning with both +hands on a handsome walking-stick with an ivory knob (he usually walked +without a stick), 'but I am constrained to beg you to spare me five +minutes of your time ... no more.' + +'All my time is at your disposal,' answered Bazarov, over whose face +there passed a quick change of expression directly Pavel Petrovitch +crossed the threshold. + +'Five minutes will be enough for me. I have come to put a single +question to you.' + +'A question? What is it about?' + +'I will tell you, if you will kindly hear me out. At the commencement +of your stay in my brother's house, before I had renounced the pleasure +of conversing with you, it was my fortune to hear your opinions on many +subjects; but so far as my memory serves, neither between us, nor in my +presence, was the subject of single combats and duelling in general +broached. Allow me to hear what are your views on that subject?' + +Bazarov, who had risen to meet Pavel Petrovitch, sat down on the edge +of the table and folded his arms. + +'My view is,' he said, 'that from the theoretical standpoint, duelling +is absurd; from the practical standpoint, now--it's quite a different +matter.' + +'That is, you mean to say, if I understand you right, that whatever +your theoretical views on duelling, you would not in practice allow +yourself to be insulted without demanding satisfaction?' + +'You have guessed my meaning absolutely.' + +'Very good. I am very glad to hear you say so. Your words relieve me +from a state of incertitude.' + +'Of uncertainty, you mean to say.' + +'That is all the same! I express myself so as to be understood; I ... +am not a seminary rat. Your words save me from a rather deplorable +necessity. I have made up my mind to fight you.' + +Bazarov opened his eyes wide. 'Me?' + +'Undoubtedly.' + +'But what for, pray?' + +'I could explain the reason to you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'but I +prefer to be silent about it. To my idea your presence here is +superfluous; I cannot endure you; I despise you; and if that is not +enough for you ...' + +Pavel Petrovitch's eyes glittered ... Bazarov's too were flashing. + +'Very good,' he assented. 'No need of further explanations. You've a +whim to try your chivalrous spirit upon me. I might refuse you this +pleasure, but--so be it!' + +'I am sensible of my obligation to you,' replied Pavel Petrovitch; 'and +may reckon then on your accepting my challenge without compelling me to +resort to violent measures.' + +'That means, speaking without metaphor, to that stick?' Bazarov +remarked coolly. 'That is precisely correct. It's quite unnecessary for +you to insult me. Indeed, it would not be a perfectly safe proceeding. +You can remain a gentleman.... I accept your challenge, too, like a +gentleman.' + +'That is excellent,' observed Pavel Petrovitch, putting his stick in +the corner. 'We will say a few words directly about the conditions of +our duel; but I should like first to know whether you think it +necessary to resort to the formality of a trifling dispute, which might +serve as a pretext for my challenge?' + +'No; it's better without formalities.' + +'I think so myself. I presume it is also out of place to go into the +real grounds of our difference. We cannot endure one another. What more +is necessary?' + +'What more, indeed?' repeated Bazarov ironically. + +'As regards the conditions of the meeting itself, seeing that we shall +have no seconds--for where could we get them?' + +'Exactly so; where could we get them?' + +'Then I have the honour to lay the following proposition before you: +The combat to take place early to-morrow, at six, let us say, behind +the copse, with pistols, at a distance of ten paces....' + +'At ten paces? that will do; we hate one another at that distance.' + +'We might have it eight,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'We might.' + +'To fire twice; and, to be ready for any result, let each put a letter +in his pocket, in which he accuses himself of his end.' + +'Now, that I don't approve of at all,' observed Bazarov. 'There's a +slight flavour of the French novel about it, something not very +plausible.' + +'Perhaps. You will agree, however, that it would be unpleasant to incur +a suspicion of murder?' + +'I agree as to that. But there is a means of avoiding that painful +reproach. We shall have no seconds, but we can have a witness.' + +'And whom, allow me to inquire?' + +'Why, Piotr.' + +'What Piotr?' + +'Your brother's valet. He's a man who has attained to the acme of +contemporary culture, and he will perform his part with all the +_comilfo_ (_comme il faut_) necessary in such cases.' + +'I think you are joking, sir.' + +'Not at all. If you think over my suggestion, you will be convinced +that it's full of common-sense and simplicity. You can't hide a candle +under a bushel; but I'll undertake to prepare Piotr in a fitting +manner, and bring him on to the field of battle.' + +'You persist in jesting still,' Pavel Petrovitch declared, getting up +from his chair. 'But after the courteous readiness you have shown me, I +have no right to pretend to lay down.... And so, everything is +arranged.... By the way, perhaps you have no pistols?' + +'How should I have pistols, Pavel Petrovitch? I'm not in the army.' + +'In that case, I offer you mine. You may rest assured that it's five +years now since I shot with them.' + +'That's a very consoling piece of news.' + +Pavel Petrovitch took up his stick.... 'And now, my dear sir, it only +remains for me to thank you and to leave you to your studies. I have +the honour to take leave of you.' + +'Till we have the pleasure of meeting again, my dear sir,' said +Bazarov, conducting his visitor to the door. + +Pavel Petrovitch went out, while Bazarov remained standing a minute +before the door, and suddenly exclaimed, 'Pish, well, I'm dashed! how +fine, and how foolish! A pretty farce we've been through! Like trained +dogs dancing on their hind-paws. But to decline was out of the +question; why, I do believe he'd have struck me, and then ...' (Bazarov +turned white at the very thought; all his pride was up in arms at +once)--'then it might have come to my strangling him like a cat.' He +went back to his microscope, but his heart was beating, and the +composure necessary for taking observations had disappeared. 'He caught +sight of us to-day,' he thought; 'but would he really act like this on +his brother's account? And what a mighty matter is it--a kiss? There +must be something else in it. Bah! isn't he perhaps in love with her +himself? To be sure, he's in love; it's as clear as day. What a +complication! It's a nuisance!' he decided at last; 'it's a bad job, +look at it which way you will. In the first place, to risk a bullet +through one's brains, and in any case to go away; and then Arkady ... +and that dear innocent pussy, Nikolai Petrovitch. It's a bad job, an +awfully bad job.' + +The day passed in a kind of peculiar stillness and languor. Fenitchka +gave no sign of her existence; she sat in her little room like a mouse +in its hole. Nikolai Petrovitch had a careworn air. He had just heard +that blight had begun to appear in his wheat, upon which he had in +particular rested his hopes. Pavel Petrovitch overwhelmed every one, +even Prokofitch, with his icy courtesy. Bazarov began a letter to his +father, but tore it up, and threw it under the table. + +'If I die,' he thought, 'they will find it out; but I'm not going to +die. No, I shall struggle along in this world a good while yet.' He +gave Piotr orders to come to him on important business the next morning +directly it was light. Piotr imagined that he wanted to take him to +Petersburg with him. Bazarov went late to bed, and all night long he +was harassed by disordered dreams.... Madame Odintsov kept appearing in +them, now she was his mother, and she was followed by a kitten with +black whiskers, and this kitten seemed to be Fenitchka; then Pavel +Petrovitch took the shape of a great wood, with which he had yet to +fight. Piotr waked him up at four o'clock; he dressed at once, and went +out with him. + +It was a lovely, fresh morning; tiny flecked clouds hovered overhead in +little curls of foam on the pale clear blue; a fine dew lay in drops on +the leaves and grass, and sparkled like silver on the spiders' webs; +the damp, dark earth seemed still to keep traces of the rosy dawn; from +the whole sky the songs of larks came pouring in showers. Bazarov +walked as far as the copse, sat down in the shade at its edge, and only +then disclosed to Piotr the nature of the service he expected of him. +The refined valet was mortally alarmed; but Bazarov soothed him by the +assurance that he would have nothing to do but stand at a distance and +look on, and that he would not incur any sort of responsibility. 'And +meantime,' he added, 'only think what an important part you have to +play!' Piotr threw up his hands, looked down, and leaned against a +birch-tree, looking green with terror. + +The road from Maryino skirted the copse; a light dust lay on it, +untouched by wheel or foot since the previous day. Bazarov +unconsciously stared along this road, picked and gnawed a blade of +grass, while he kept repeating to himself, 'What a piece of foolery!' +The chill of the early morning made him shiver twice.... Piotr looked +at him dejectedly, but Bazarov only smiled; he was not afraid. + +The tramp of horses' hoofs was heard along the road.... A peasant came +into sight from behind the trees. He was driving before him two horses +hobbled together, and as he passed Bazarov he looked at him rather +strangely, without touching his cap, which it was easy to see disturbed +Piotr, as an unlucky omen. 'There's some one else up early too,' +thought Bazarov; 'but he at least has got up for work, while we ...' + +'Fancy the gentleman's coming,' Piotr faltered suddenly. + +Bazarov raised his head and saw Pavel Petrovitch. Dressed in a light +check jacket and snow-white trousers, he was walking rapidly along the +road; under his arm he carried a box wrapped up in green cloth. + +'I beg your pardon, I believe I have kept you waiting,' he observed, +bowing first to Bazarov, then to Piotr, whom he treated respectfully at +that instant, as representing something in the nature of a second. 'I +was unwilling to wake my man.' + +'It doesn't matter,' answered Bazarov; 'we've only just arrived +ourselves.' + +'Ah! so much the better!' Pavel Petrovitch took a look round. 'There's +no one in sight; no one hinders us. We can proceed?' + +'Let us proceed.' + +'You do not, I presume, desire any fresh explanations?' + +'No, I don't.' + +'Would you like to load?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch, taking the pistols +out of the box. + +'No; you load, and I will measure out the paces. My legs are longer,' +added Bazarov with a smile. 'One, two, three.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' Piotr faltered with an effort (he shaking as +though he were in a fever), 'say what you like, I am going farther +off.' + +'Four ... five.... Good. Move away, my good fellow, move away; you may +get behind a tree even, and stop up your ears, only don't shut your +eyes; and if any one falls, run and pick him up. Six ... seven ... +eight....' Bazarov stopped. 'Is that enough?' he said, turning to Pavel +Petrovitch; 'or shall I add two paces more?' + +'As you like,' replied the latter, pressing down the second bullet. + +'Well, we'll make it two paces more.' Bazarov drew a line on the ground +with the toe of his boot. 'There's the barrier then. By the way, how +many paces may each of us go back from the barrier? That's an important +question too. That point was not discussed yesterday.' + +'I imagine, ten,' replied Pavel Petrovitch, handing Bazarov both +pistols. 'Will you be so good as to choose?' + +'I will be so good. But, Pavel Petrovitch, you must admit our combat is +singular to the point of absurdity. Only look at the countenance of our +second.' + +'You are disposed to laugh at everything,' answered Pavel Petrovitch. +'I acknowledge the strangeness of our duel, but I think it my duty to +warn you that I intend to fight seriously. _A bon entendeur, salut!_' + +'Oh! I don't doubt that we've made up our minds to make away with each +other; but why not laugh too and unite _utile dulci_? You talk to me in +French, while I talk to you in Latin.' + +'I am going to fight in earnest,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, and he +walked off to his place. Bazarov on his side counted off ten paces from +the barrier, and stood still. + +'Are you ready?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Perfectly.' + +'We can approach one another.' + +Bazarov moved slowly forward, and Pavel Petrovitch, his left hand +thrust in his pocket, walked towards him, gradually raising the muzzle +of his pistol.... 'He's aiming straight at my nose,' thought Bazarov, +'and doesn't he blink down it carefully, the ruffian! Not an agreeable +sensation though. I'm going to look at his watch chain.' + +Something whizzed sharply by his very ear, and at the same instant +there was the sound of a shot. 'I heard it, so it must be all right,' +had time to flash through Bazarov's brain. He took one more step, and +without taking aim, pressed the spring. + +Pavel Petrovitch gave a slight start, and clutched at his thigh. A +stream of blood began to trickle down his white trousers. + +Bazarov flung aside the pistol, and went up to his antagonist. 'Are you +wounded?' he said. + +'You had the right to call me up to the barrier,' said Pavel +Petrovitch, 'but that's of no consequence. According to our agreement, +each of us has the right to one more shot.' + +'All right, but, excuse me, that'll do another time,' answered Bazarov, +catching hold of Pavel Petrovitch, who was beginning to turn pale. +'Now, I'm not a duellist, but a doctor, and I must have a look at your +wound before anything else. Piotr! come here, Piotr! where have you got +to?' + +'That's all nonsense.... I need no one's aid,' Pavel Petrovitch +declared jerkily, 'and ... we must ... again ...' He tried to pull at +his moustaches, but his hand failed him, his eyes grew dim, and he lost +consciousness. + +'Here's a pretty pass! A fainting fit! What next!' Bazarov cried +unconsciously, as he laid Pavel Petrovitch on the grass. 'Let's have a +look what's wrong.' He pulled out a handkerchief, wiped away the blood, +and began feeling round the wound.... 'The bone's not touched,' he +muttered through his teeth; 'the ball didn't go deep; one muscle, +_vastus externus_, grazed. He'll be dancing about in three weeks!... +And to faint! Oh, these nervous people, how I hate them! My word, what +a delicate skin!' + +'Is he killed?' the quaking voice of Piotr came rustling behind his +back. + +Bazarov looked round. 'Go for some water as quick as you can, my good +fellow, and he'll outlive us yet.' + +But the modern servant seemed not to understand his words, and he did +not stir. Pavel Petrovitch slowly opened his eyes. 'He will die!' +whispered Piotr, and he began crossing himself. + +'You are right ... What an imbecile countenance!' remarked the wounded +gentleman with a forced smile. + +'Well, go for the water, damn you!' shouted Bazarov. + +'No need.... It was a momentary _vertigo_.... Help me to sit up ... +there, that's right.... I only need something to bind up this scratch, +and I can reach home on foot, or you can send a droshky for me. The +duel, if you are willing, shall not be renewed. You have behaved +honourably ... to-day, to-day--observe.' + +'There's no need to recall the past,' rejoined Bazarov; 'and as regards +the future, it's not worth while for you to trouble your head about +that either, for I intend being off without delay. Let me bind up your +leg now; your wound's not serious, but it's always best to stop +bleeding. But first I must bring this corpse to his senses.' + +Bazarov shook Piotr by the collar, and sent him for a droshky. + +'Mind you don't frighten my brother,' Pavel Petrovitch said to him; +'don't dream of informing him.' + +Piotr flew off; and while he was running for a droshky, the two +antagonists sat on the ground and said nothing. Pavel Petrovitch tried +not to look at Bazarov; he did not want to be reconciled to him in any +case; he was ashamed of his own haughtiness, of his failure; he was +ashamed of the whole position he had brought about, even while he felt +it could not have ended in a more favourable manner. 'At any rate, +there will be no scandal,' he consoled himself by reflecting, 'and for +that I am thankful.' The silence was prolonged, a silence distressing +and awkward. Both of them were ill at ease. Each was conscious that the +other understood him. That is pleasant to friends, and always very +unpleasant to those who are not friends, especially when it is +impossible either to have things out or to separate. + +'Haven't I bound up your leg too tight?' inquired Bazarov at last. + +'No, not at all; it's capital,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; and after a +brief pause, he added, 'There's no deceiving my brother; we shall have +to tell him we quarrelled over politics.' + +'Very good,' assented Bazarov. 'You can say I insulted all +anglomaniacs.' + +'That will do capitally. What do you imagine that man thinks of us +now?' continued Pavel Petrovitch, pointing to the same peasant, who had +driven the hobbled horses past Bazarov a few minutes before the duel, +and going back again along the road, took off his cap at the sight of +the 'gentlefolk.' + +'Who can tell!' answered Bazarov; 'it's quite likely he thinks nothing. +The Russian peasant is that mysterious unknown about whom Mrs. +Radcliffe used to talk so much. Who is to understand him! He doesn't +understand himself!' + +'Ah! so that's your idea!' Pavel Petrovitch began; and suddenly he +cried, 'Look what your fool of a Piotr has done! Here's my brother +galloping up to us!' + +Bazarov turned round and saw the pale face of Nikolai Petrovitch, who +was sitting in the droshky. He jumped out of it before it had stopped, +and rushed up to his brother. + +'What does this mean?' he said in an agitated voice. 'Yevgeny +Vassilyitch, pray, what is this?' + +'Nothing,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'they have alarmed you for +nothing. I had a little dispute with Mr. Bazarov, and I have had to pay +for it a little.' + +'But what was it all about, mercy on us!' + +'How can I tell you? Mr. Bazarov alluded disrespectfully to Sir Robert +Peel. I must hasten to add that I am the only person to blame in all +this, while Mr. Bazarov has behaved most honourably. I called him out.' + +'But you're covered with blood, good Heavens!' + +'Well, did you suppose I had water in my veins? But this blood-letting +is positively beneficial to me. Isn't that so, doctor? Help me to get +into the droshky, and don't give way to melancholy. I shall be quite +well to-morrow. That's it; capital. Drive on, coachman.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch walked after the droshky; Bazarov was remaining +where he was.... + +'I must ask you to look after my brother,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to +him, 'till we get another doctor from the town.' + +Bazarov nodded his head without speaking. In an hour's time Pavel +Petrovitch was already lying in bed with a skilfully bandaged leg. The +whole house was alarmed; Fenitchka fainted. Nikolai Petrovitch kept +stealthily wringing his hands, while Pavel Petrovitch laughed and +joked, especially with Bazarov; he had put on a fine cambric +night-shirt, an elegant morning wrapper, and a fez, did not allow the +blinds to be drawn down, and humorously complained of the necessity of +being kept from food. + +Towards night, however, he began to be feverish; his head ached. The +doctor arrived from the town. (Nikolai Petrovitch would not listen to +his brother, and indeed Bazarov himself did not wish him to; he sat the +whole day in his room, looking yellow and vindictive, and only went in +to the invalid for as brief a time as possible; twice he happened to +meet Fenitchka, but she shrank away from him with horror.) The new +doctor advised a cooling diet; he confirmed, however, Bazarov's +assertion that there was no danger. Nikolai Petrovitch told him his +brother had wounded himself by accident, to which the doctor responded, +'Hm!' but having twenty-five silver roubles slipped into his hand on +the spot, he observed, 'You don't say so! Well, it's a thing that often +happens, to be sure.' + +No one in the house went to bed or undressed. Nikolai Petrovitch kept +going in to his brother on tiptoe, retreating on tiptoe again; the +latter dozed, moaned a little, told him in French, _Couchez-vous_, and +asked for drink. Nikolai Petrovitch sent Fenitchka twice to take him a +glass of lemonade; Pavel Petrovitch gazed at her intently, and drank +off the glass to the last drop. Towards morning the fever had increased +a little; there was slight delirium. At first Pavel Petrovitch uttered +incoherent words; then suddenly he opened his eyes, and seeing his +brother near his bed bending anxiously over him, he said, 'Don't you +think, Nikolai, Fenitchka has something in common with Nellie?' + +'What Nellie, Pavel dear?' + +'How can you ask? Princess R----. Especially in the upper part of the +face. _C'est de la même famille._' + +Nikolai Petrovitch made no answer, while inwardly he marvelled at the +persistence of old passions in man. 'It's like this when it comes to +the surface,' he thought. + +'Ah, how I love that light-headed creature!' moaned Pavel Petrovitch, +clasping his hands mournfully behind his head. 'I can't bear any +insolent upstart to dare to touch ...' he whispered a few minutes +later. + +Nikolai Petrovitch only sighed; he did not even suspect to whom these +words referred. + +Bazarov presented himself before him at eight o'clock the next day. He +had already had time to pack, and to set free all his frogs, insects, +and birds. + +'You have come to say good-bye to me?' said Nikolai Petrovitch, getting +up to meet him. + +'Yes.' + +'I understand you, and approve of you fully. My poor brother, of +course, is to blame; and he is punished for it. He told me himself that +he made it impossible for you to act otherwise. I believe that you +could not avoid this duel, which ... which to some extent is explained +by the almost constant antagonism of your respective views.' (Nikolai +Petrovitch began to get a little mixed up in his words.) 'My brother is +a man of the old school, hot-tempered and obstinate.... Thank God that +it has ended as it has. I have taken every precaution to avoid +publicity.' + +'I'm leaving you my address, in case there's any fuss,' Bazarov +remarked casually. + +'I hope there will be no fuss, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.... I am very sorry +your stay in my house should have such a ... such an end. It is the +more distressing to me through Arkady's ...' + +'I shall be seeing him, I expect,' replied Bazarov, in whom +'explanations' and 'protestations' of every sort always aroused a +feeling of impatience; 'in case I don't, I beg you to say good-bye to +him for me, and accept the expression of my regret.' + +'And I beg ...' answered Nikolai Petrovitch. But Bazarov went off +without waiting for the end of his sentence. + +When he heard of Bazarov's going, Pavel Petrovitch expressed a desire +to see him, and shook his hand. But even then he remained as cold as +ice; he realised that Pavel Petrovitch wanted to play the magnanimous. +He did not succeed in saying good-bye to Fenitchka; he only exchanged +glances with her at the window. Her face struck him as looking +dejected. 'She'll come to grief, perhaps,' he said to himself.... 'But +who knows? she'll pull through somehow, I dare say!' Piotr, however, +was so overcome that he wept on his shoulder, till Bazarov damped him +by asking if he'd a constant supply laid on in his eyes; while Dunyasha +was obliged to run away into the wood to hide her emotion. The +originator of all this woe got into a light cart, smoked a cigar, and +when at the third mile, at the bend in the road, the Kirsanovs' farm, +with its new house, could be seen in a long line, he merely spat, and +muttering, 'Cursed snobs!' wrapped himself closer in his cloak. + +Pavel Petrovitch was soon better; but he had to keep his bed about a +week. He bore his captivity, as he called it, pretty patiently, though +he took great pains over his toilette, and had everything scented with +eau-de-cologne. Nikolai Petrovitch used to read him the journals; +Fenitchka waited on him as before, brought him lemonade, soup, boiled +eggs, and tea; but she was overcome with secret dread whenever she went +into his room. Pavel Petrovitch's unexpected action had alarmed every +one in the house, and her more than any one; Prokofitch was the only +person not agitated by it; he discoursed upon how gentlemen in his day +used to fight, but only with real gentlemen; low curs like that they +used to order a horsewhipping in the stable for their insolence. + +Fenitchka's conscience scarcely reproached her; but she was tormented +at times by the thought of the real cause of the quarrel; and Pavel +Petrovitch too looked at her so strangely ... that even when her back +was turned, she felt his eyes upon her. She grew thinner from constant +inward agitation, and, as is always the way, became still more +charming. + +One day--the incident took place in the morning--Pavel Petrovitch felt +better and moved from his bed to the sofa, while Nikolai Petrovitch, +having satisfied himself he was better, went off to the +threshing-floor. Fenitchka brought him a cup of tea, and setting it +down on a little table, was about to withdraw. Pavel Petrovitch +detained her. + +'Where are you going in such a hurry, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' he began; +'are you busy?' + +'... I have to pour out tea.' + +'Dunyasha will do that without you; sit a little while with a poor +invalid. By the way, I must have a little talk with you.' + +Fenitchka sat down on the edge of an easy-chair, without speaking. + +'Listen,' said Pavel Petrovitch, tugging at his moustaches; 'I have +long wanted to ask you something; you seem somehow afraid of me?' + +'I?' + +'Yes, you. You never look at me, as though your conscience were not at +rest.' + +Fenitchka crimsoned, but looked at Pavel Petrovitch. He impressed her +as looking strange, and her heart began throbbing slowly. + +'Is your conscience at rest?' he questioned her. + +'Why should it not be at rest?' she faltered. + +'Goodness knows why! Besides, whom can you have wronged? Me? That is +not likely. Any other people in the house here? That, too, is something +incredible. Can it be my brother? But you love him, don't you?' + +'I love him.' + +'With your whole soul, with your whole heart?' + +'I love Nikolai Petrovitch with my whole heart.' + +'Truly? Look at me, Fenitchka.' (It was the first time he had called +her that name.) 'You know, it's a great sin telling lies!' + +'I am not telling lies, Pavel Petrovitch. Not love Nikolai +Petrovitch--I shouldn't care to live after that.' + +'And will you never give him up for any one?' + +'For whom could I give him up?' + +'For whom indeed! Well, how about that gentleman who has just gone away +from here?' + +Fenitchka got up. 'My God, Pavel Petrovitch, what are you torturing me +for? What have I done to you? How can such things be said?'... + +'Fenitchka,' said Pavel Petrovitch, in a sorrowful voice, 'you know I +saw ...' + +'What did you see?' + +'Well, there ... in the arbour.' + +Fenitchka crimsoned to her hair and to her ears. 'How was I to blame +for that?' she articulated with an effort. + +Pavel Petrovitch raised himself up. 'You were not to blame? No? Not at +all?' + +'I love Nikolai Petrovitch, and no one else in the world, and I shall +always love him!' cried Fenitchka with sudden force, while her throat +seemed fairly breaking with sobs. 'As for what you saw, at the dreadful +day of judgment I will say I'm not to blame, and wasn't to blame for +it, and I would rather die at once if people can suspect me of such a +thing against my benefactor, Nikolai Petrovitch.' + +But here her voice broke, and at the same time she felt that Pavel +Petrovitch was snatching and pressing her hand.... She looked at him, +and was fairly petrified. He had turned even paler than before; his +eyes were shining, and what was most marvellous of all, one large +solitary tear was rolling down his cheek. + +'Fenitchka!' he was saying in a strange whisper; 'love him, love my +brother! Don't give him up for any one in the world; don't listen to +any one else! Think what can be more terrible than to love and not be +loved! Never leave my poor Nikolai!' + +Fenitchka's eyes were dry, and her terror had passed away, so great was +her amazement. But what were her feelings when Pavel Petrovitch, Pavel +Petrovitch himself, put her hand to his lips and seemed to pierce into +it without kissing it, and only heaving convulsive sighs from time to +time.... + +'Goodness,' she thought, 'isn't it some attack coming on him?'... + +At that instant his whole ruined life was stirred up within him. + +The staircase creaked under rapidly approaching footsteps.... He pushed +her away from him, and let his head drop back on the pillow. The door +opened, and Nikolai Petrovitch entered, cheerful, fresh, and ruddy. +Mitya, as fresh and ruddy as his father, in nothing but his little +shirt, was frisking on his shoulder, catching the big buttons of his +rough country coat with his little bare toes. + +Fenitchka simply flung herself upon him, and clasping him and her son +together in her arms, dropped her head on his shoulder. Nikolai +Petrovitch was surprised; Fenitchka, the reserved and staid Fenitchka, +had never given him a caress in the presence of a third person. + +'What's the matter?' he said, and, glancing at his brother, he gave her +Mitya. 'You don't feel worse?' he inquired, going up to Pavel +Petrovitch. + +He buried his face in a cambric handkerchief. 'No ... not at all ... on +the contrary, I am much better.' + +'You were in too great a hurry to move on to the sofa. Where are you +going?' added Nikolai Petrovitch, turning round to Fenitchka; but she +had already closed the door behind her. 'I was bringing in my young +hero to show you, he's been crying for his uncle. Why has she carried +him off? What's wrong with you, though? Has anything passed between +you, eh?' + +'Brother!' said Pavel Petrovitch solemnly. + +Nikolai Petrovitch started. He felt dismayed, he could not have said +why himself. + +'Brother,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, 'give me your word that you will +carry out my one request.' + +'What request? Tell me.' + +'It is very important; the whole happiness of your life, to my idea, +depends on it. I have been thinking a great deal all this time over +what I want to say to you now.... Brother, do your duty, the duty of an +honest and generous man; put an end to the scandal and bad example you +are setting--you, the best of men!' + +'What do you mean, Pavel?' + +'Marry Fenitchka.... She loves you; she is the mother of your son.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch stepped back a pace, and flung up his hands. 'Do you +say that, Pavel? you whom I have always regarded as the most determined +opponent of such marriages! You say that? Don't you know that it has +simply been out of respect for you that I have not done what you so +rightly call my duty?' + +'You were wrong to respect me in that case,' Pavel Petrovitch +responded, with a weary smile. 'I begin to think Bazarov was right in +accusing me of snobbishness. No dear brother, don't let us worry +ourselves about appearances and the world's opinion any more; we are +old folks and humble now; it's time we laid aside vanity of all kinds. +Let us, just as you say, do our duty; and mind, we shall get happiness +that way into the bargain.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch rushed to embrace his brother. + +'You have opened my eyes completely!' he cried. 'I was right in always +declaring you the wisest and kindest-hearted fellow in the world, and +now I see you are just as reasonable as you are noble-hearted.' + +'Quietly, quietly,' Pavel Petrovitch interrupted him; 'don't hurt the +leg of your reasonable brother, who at close upon fifty has been +fighting a duel like an ensign. So, then, it's a settled matter; +Fenitchka is to be my ... _belle soeur_.' + +'My dearest Pavel! But what will Arkady say?' + +'Arkady? he'll be in ecstasies, you may depend upon it! Marriage is +against his principles, but then the sentiment of equality in him will +be gratified. And, after all, what sense have class distinctions _au +dix-neuvième siècle_?' + +'Ah, Pavel, Pavel! let me kiss you once more! Don't be afraid, I'll be +careful.' + +The brothers embraced each other. + +'What do you think, should you not inform her of your intention now?' +queried Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Why be in a hurry?' responded Nikolai Petrovitch. 'Has there been any +conversation between you?' + +'Conversation between us? _Quelle idée!_' + +'Well, that is all right then. First of all, you must get well, and +meanwhile there's plenty of time. We must think it over well, and +consider ...' + +'But your mind is made up, I suppose?' + +'Of course, my mind is made up, and I thank you from the bottom of my +heart. I will leave you now; you must rest; any excitement is bad for +you.... But we will talk it over again. Sleep well, dear heart, and God +bless you!' + +'What is he thanking me like that for?' thought Pavel Petrovitch, when +he was left alone. 'As though it did not depend on him! I will go away +directly he is married, somewhere a long way off--to Dresden or +Florence, and will live there till I----' + +Pavel Petrovitch moistened his forehead with eau de cologne, and closed +his eyes. His beautiful, emaciated head, the glaring daylight shining +full upon it, lay on the white pillow like the head of a dead man.... +And indeed he was a dead man. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +At Nikolskoe Katya and Arkady were sitting in the garden on a turf seat +in the shade of a tall ash tree; Fifi had placed himself on the ground +near them, giving his slender body that graceful curve, which is known +among dog-fanciers as 'the hare bend.' Both Arkady and Katya were +silent; he was holding a half-open book in his hands, while she was +picking out of a basket the few crumbs of bread left in it, and +throwing them to a small family of sparrows, who with the frightened +impudence peculiar to them were hopping and chirping at her very feet. +A faint breeze stirring in the ash leaves kept slowly moving pale-gold +flecks of sunlight up and down over the path and Fifi's tawny back; a +patch of unbroken shade fell upon Arkady and Katya; only from time to +time a bright streak gleamed on her hair. Both were silent, but the +very way in which they were silent, in which they were sitting +together, was expressive of confidential intimacy; each of them seemed +not even to be thinking of his companion, while secretly rejoicing in +his presence. Their faces, too, had changed since we saw them last; +Arkady looked more tranquil, Katya brighter and more daring. + +'Don't you think,' began Arkady, 'that the ash has been very well named +in Russian _yasen_; no other tree is so lightly and brightly +transparent (_yasno_) against the air as it is.' + +Katya raised her eyes to look upward, and assented, 'Yes'; while Arkady +thought, 'Well, she does not reproach me for _talking finely_.' + +'I don't like Heine,' said Katya, glancing towards the book which +Arkady was holding in his hands, 'either when he laughs or when he +weeps; I like him when he's thoughtful and melancholy.' + +'And I like him when he laughs,' remarked Arkady. + +'That's the relics left in you of your old satirical tendencies.' +('Relics!' thought Arkady--'if Bazarov had heard that?') 'Wait a +little; we shall transform you.' + +'Who will transform me? You?' + +'Who?--my sister; Porfiry Platonovitch, whom you've given up +quarrelling with; auntie, whom you escorted to church the day before +yesterday.' + +'Well, I couldn't refuse! And as for Anna Sergyevna, she agreed with +Yevgeny in a great many things, you remember?' + +'My sister was under his influence then, just as you were.' + +'As I was? Do you discover, may I ask, that I've shaken off his +influence now?' + +Katya did not speak. + +'I know,' pursued Arkady, 'you never liked him.' + +'I can have no opinion about him.' + +'Do you know, Katerina Sergyevna, every time I hear that answer I +disbelieve it.... There is no man that every one of us could not have +an opinion about! That's simply a way of getting out of it.' + +'Well, I'll say, then, I don't.... It's not exactly that I don't like +him, but I feel that he's of a different order from me, and I am +different from him ... and you too are different from him.' + +'How's that?' + +'How can I tell you.... He's a wild animal, and you and I are tame.' + +'Am I tame too?' + +Katya nodded. + +Arkady scratched his ear. 'Let me tell you, Katerina Sergyevna, do you +know, that's really an insult?' + +'Why, would you like to be a wild----' + +'Not wild, but strong, full of force.' + +'It's no good wishing for that.... Your friend, you see, doesn't wish +for it, but he has it.' + +'Hm! So you imagine he had a great influence on Anna Sergyevna?' + +'Yes. But no one can keep the upper hand of her for long,' added Katya +in a low voice. + +'Why do you think that?' + +'She's very proud.... I didn't mean that ... she values her +independence a great deal.' + +'Who doesn't value it?' asked Arkady, and the thought flashed through +his mind, 'What good is it?' 'What good is it?' it occurred to Katya to +wonder too. When young people are often together on friendly terms, +they are constantly stumbling on the same ideas. + +Arkady smiled, and, coming slightly closer to Katya, he said in a +whisper, 'Confess that you are a little afraid of her.' + +'Of whom?' + +'Her,' repeated Arkady significantly. + +'And how about you?' Katya asked in her turn. + +'I am too, observe I said, I am _too_.' + +Katya threatened him with her finger. 'I wonder at that,' she began; +'my sister has never felt so friendly to you as just now; much more so +than when you first came.' + +'Really!' + +'Why, haven't you noticed it? Aren't you glad of it?' + +Arkady grew thoughtful. + +'How have I succeeded in gaining Anna Sergyevna's good opinion? Wasn't +it because I brought her your mother's letters?' + +'Both that and other causes, which I shan't tell you.' + +'Why?' + +'I shan't say.' + +'Oh! I know; you're very obstinate.' + +'Yes, I am.' + +'And observant.' + +Katya gave Arkady a sidelong look. 'Perhaps so; does that irritate you? +What are you thinking of?' + +'I am wondering how you have come to be as observant as in fact you +are. You are so shy so reserved; you keep every one at a distance.' + +'I have lived a great deal alone; that drives one to reflection. But do +I really keep every one at a distance?' + +Arkady flung a grateful glance at Katya. + +'That's all very well,' he pursued; 'but people in your position--I +mean in your circumstances--don't often have that faculty; it is hard +for them, as it is for sovereigns, to get at the truth.' + +'But, you see, I am not rich.' + +Arkady was taken aback, and did not at once understand Katya. 'Why, of +course, the property's all her sister's!' struck him suddenly; the +thought was not unpleasing to him. 'How nicely you said that!' he +commented. + +'What?' + +'You said it nicely, simply, without being ashamed or making a boast of +it. By the way, I imagine there must always be something special, a +kind of pride of a sort in the feeling of any man, who knows and says +he is poor.' + +'I have never experienced anything of that sort, thanks to my sister. I +only referred to my position just now because it happened to come up.' + +'Well; but you must own you have a share of that pride I spoke of just +now.' + +'For instance?' + +'For instance, you--forgive the question--you wouldn't marry a rich +man, I fancy, would you?' + +'If I loved him very much.... No, I think even then I wouldn't marry +him.' + +'There! you see!' cried Arkady, and after a short pause he added, 'And +why wouldn't you marry him?' + +'Because even in the ballads unequal matches are always unlucky.' + +'You want to rule, perhaps, or ...' + +'Oh, no! why should I? On the contrary, I am ready to obey; only +inequality is intolerable. To respect one's self and obey, that I can +understand, that's happiness; but a subordinate existence ... No, I've +had enough of that as it is.' + +'Enough of that as it is,' Arkady repeated after Katya. 'Yes, yes,' he +went on, 'you're not Anna Sergyevna's sister for nothing; you're just +as independent as she is; but you're more reserved. I'm certain you +wouldn't be the first to give expression to your feeling, however +strong and holy it might be ...' + +'Well, what would you expect?' asked Katya. + +'You're equally clever; and you've as much, if not more, character than +she.' + +'Don't compare me with my sister, please,' interposed Katya hurriedly; +'that's too much to my disadvantage. You seem to forget my sister's +beautiful and clever, and ... you in particular, Arkady Nikolaevitch, +ought not to say such things, and with such a serious face too.' + +'What do you mean by "you in particular"--and what makes you suppose I +am joking?' + +'Of course, you are joking.' + +'You think so? But what if I'm persuaded of what I say? If I believe I +have not put it strongly enough even?' + +'I don't understand you.' + +'Really? Well, now I see; I certainly took you to be more observant +than you are.' + +'How?' + +Arkady made no answer, and turned away, while Katya looked for a few +more crumbs in the basket, and began throwing them to the sparrows; but +she moved her arm too vigorously, and they flew away, without stopping +to pick them up. + +'Katerina Sergyevna!' began Arkady suddenly; 'it's of no consequence to +you, probably; but, let me tell you, I put you not only above your +sister, but above every one in the world.' + +He got up and went quickly away, as though he were frightened at the +words that had fallen from his lips. + +Katya let her two hands drop together with the basket on to her lap, +and with bent head she stared a long while after Arkady. Gradually a +crimson flush came faintly out upon her cheeks; but her lips did not +smile and her dark eyes had a look of perplexity and some other, as yet +undefined, feeling. + +'Are you alone?' she heard the voice of Anna Sergyevna near her; 'I +thought you came into the garden with Arkady.' + +Katya slowly raised her eyes to her sister (elegantly, even elaborately +dressed, she was standing in the path and tickling Fifi's ears with the +tip of her open parasol), and slowly replied, 'Yes, I'm alone.' + +'So I see,' she answered with a smile; 'I suppose he has gone to his +room.' + +'Yes.' + +'Have you been reading together?' + +'Yes.' + +Anna Sergyevna took Katya by the chin and lifted her face up. + +'You have not been quarrelling, I hope?' + +'No,' said Katya, and she quietly removed her sister's hand. + +'How solemnly you answer! I expected to find him here, and meant to +suggest his coming a walk with me. That's what he is always asking for. +They have sent you some shoes from the town; go and try them on; I +noticed only yesterday your old ones are quite shabby. You never think +enough about it, and you have such charming little feet! Your hands are +nice too ... though they're large; so you must make the most of your +little feet. But you're not vain.' + +Anna Sergyevna went farther along the path with a light rustle of her +beautiful gown; Katya got up from the grass, and, taking Heine with +her, went away too--but not to try on her shoes. + +'Charming little feet!' she thought, as she slowly and lightly mounted +the stone steps of the terrace, which were burning with the heat of the +sun; 'charming little feet you call them.... Well, he shall be at +them.' + +But all at once a feeling of shame came upon her, and she ran swiftly +upstairs. + +Arkady had gone along the corridor to his room; a steward had overtaken +him, and announced that Mr. Bazarov was in his room. + +'Yevgeny!' murmured Arkady, almost with dismay; 'has he been here +long?' + +'Mr. Bazarov arrived this minute, sir, and gave orders not to announce +him to Anna Sergyevna, but to show him straight up to you.' + +'Can any misfortune have happened at home?' thought Arkady, and running +hurriedly up the stairs, he at once opened the door. The sight of +Bazarov at once reassured him, though a more experienced eye might very +probably have discerned signs of inward agitation in the sunken, though +still energetic face of the unexpected visitor. With a dusty cloak over +his shoulders, with a cap on his head, he was sitting at the window; he +did not even get up when Arkady flung himself with noisy exclamations +on his neck. + +'This is unexpected! What good luck brought you?' he kept repeating, +bustling about the room like one who both imagines himself and wishes +to show himself delighted. 'I suppose everything's all right at home; +every one's well, eh?' + +'Everything's all right, but not every one's well,' said Bazarov. +'Don't be a chatterbox, but send for some kvass for me, sit down, and +listen while I tell you all about it in a few, but, I hope, pretty +vigorous sentences.' + +Arkady was quiet while Bazarov described his duel with Pavel +Petrovitch. Arkady was very much surprised, and even grieved, but he +did not think it necessary to show this; he only asked whether his +uncle's wound was really not serious; and on receiving the reply that +it was most interesting, but not from a medical point of view, he gave +a forced smile, but at heart he felt both wounded and as it were +ashamed. Bazarov seemed to understand him. + +'Yes, my dear fellow,' he commented, 'you see what comes of living with +feudal personages. You turn a feudal personage yourself, and find +yourself taking part in knightly tournaments. Well, so I set off for my +father's,' Bazarov wound up, 'and I've turned in here on the way ... to +tell you all this, I should say, if I didn't think a useless lie a +piece of foolery. No, I turned in here--the devil only knows why. You +see, it's sometimes a good thing for a man to take himself by the +scruff of the neck and pull himself up, like a radish out of its bed; +that's what I've been doing of late.... But I wanted to have one more +look at what I'm giving up, at the bed where I've been planted.' + +'I hope those words don't refer to me,' responded Arkady with some +emotion; 'I hope you don't think of giving me up?' + +Bazarov turned an intent, almost piercing look upon him. + +'Would that be such a grief to you? It strikes me _you_ have given me +up already, you look so fresh and smart.... Your affair with Anna +Sergyevna must be getting on successfully.' + +'What do you mean by my affair with Anna Sergyevna?' + +'Why, didn't you come here from the town on her account, chicken? By +the way, how are those Sunday schools getting on? Do you mean to tell +me you're not in love with her? Or have you already reached the stage +of discretion?' + +'Yevgeny, you know I have always been open with you; I can assure you, +I will swear to you, you're making a mistake.' + +'Hm! That's another story,' remarked Bazarov in an undertone. 'But you +needn't be in a taking, it's a matter of absolute indifference to me. A +sentimentalist would say, "I feel that our paths are beginning to +part," but I will simply say that we're tired of each other.' + +'Yevgeny ...' + +'My dear soul, there's no great harm in that. One gets tired of much +more than that in this life. And now I suppose we'd better say +good-bye, hadn't we? Ever since I've been here I've had such a +loathsome feeling, just as if I'd been reading Gogol's effusions to the +governor of Kalouga's wife. By the way, I didn't tell them to take the +horses out.' + +'Upon my word, this is too much!' + +'Why?' + +'I'll say nothing of myself; but that would be discourteous to the last +degree to Anna Sergyevna, who will certainly wish to see you.' + +'Oh, you're mistaken there.' + +'On the contrary, I am certain I'm right,' retorted Arkady. 'And what +are you pretending for? If it comes to that, haven't you come here on +her account yourself?' + +'That may be so, but you're mistaken any way.' + +But Arkady was right. Anna Sergyevna desired to see Bazarov, and sent a +summons to him by a steward. Bazarov changed his clothes before going +to her; it turned out that he had packed his new suit so as to be able +to get it out easily. + +Madame Odintsov received him not in the room where he had so +unexpectedly declared his love to her, but in the drawing-room. She +held her finger tips out to him cordially, but her face betrayed an +involuntary sense of tension. + +'Anna Sergyevna,' Bazarov hastened to say, 'before everything else I +must set your mind at rest. Before you is a poor mortal, who has come +to his senses long ago, and hopes other people too have forgotten his +follies. I am going away for a long while; and though, as you will +allow, I'm by no means a very soft creature, it would be anything but +cheerful for me to carry away with me the idea that you remember me +with repugnance.' + +Anna Sergyevna gave a deep sigh like one who has just climbed up a high +mountain, and her face was lighted up by a smile. She held out her hand +a second time to Bazarov, and responded to his pressure. + +'Let bygones be bygones,' she said. 'I am all the readier to do so +because, speaking from my conscience, I was to blame then too for +flirting or something. In a word, let us be friends as before. That was +a dream, wasn't it? And who remembers dreams?' + +'Who remembers them? And besides, love ... you know, is a purely +imaginary feeling.' + +'Really? I am very glad to hear that.' + +So Anna Sergyevna spoke, and so spoke Bazarov; they both supposed they +were speaking the truth. Was the truth, the whole truth, to be found in +their words? They could not themselves have said, and much less could +the author. But a conversation followed between them precisely as +though they completely believed one another. + +Anna Sergyevna asked Bazarov, among other things, what he had been +doing at the Kirsanovs'. He was on the point of telling her about his +duel with Pavel Petrovitch, but he checked himself with the thought +that she might imagine he was trying to make himself interesting, and +answered that he had been at work all the time. + +'And I,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'had a fit of depression at first, +goodness knows why; I even made plans for going abroad, fancy!... Then +it passed off, your friend Arkady Nikolaitch came, and I fell back into +my old routine, and took up my real part again.' + +'What part is that, may I ask?' + +'The character of aunt, guardian, mother--call it what you like. By the +way, do you know I used not quite to understand your close friendship +with Arkady Nikolaitch; I thought him rather insignificant. But now I +have come to know him better, and to see that he is clever.... And he's +young, he's young ... that's the great thing ... not like you and me, +Yevgeny Vassilyitch.' + +'Is he still as shy in your company?' queried Bazarov. + +'Why, was he?' ... Anna Sergyevna began, and after a brief pause she +went on: 'He has grown more confiding now; he talks to me. He used to +avoid me before. Though, indeed, I didn't seek his society either. He's +more friends with Katya.' + +Bazarov felt irritated. 'A woman can't help humbugging, of course!' he +thought. 'You say he used to avoid you,' he said aloud, with a chilly +smile; 'but it is probably no secret to you that he was in love with +you?' + +'What! he too?' fell from Anna Sergyevna's lips. + +'He too,' repeated Bazarov, with a submissive bow. 'Can it be you +didn't know it, and I've told you something new?' + +Anna Sergyevna dropped her eyes. 'You are mistaken, Yevgeny +Vassilyitch.' + +'I don't think so. But perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it.' 'And +don't you try telling me lies again for the future,' he added to +himself. + +'Why not? But I imagine that in this too you are attributing too much +importance to a passing impression. I begin to suspect you are inclined +to exaggeration.' + +'We had better not talk about it, Anna Sergyevna.' + +'Oh, why?' she retorted; but she herself led the conversation into +another channel. She was still ill at ease with Bazarov, though she had +told him, and assured herself that everything was forgotten. While she +was exchanging the simplest sentences with him, even while she was +jesting with him, she was conscious of a faint spasm of dread. So +people on a steamer at sea talk and laugh carelessly, for all the world +as though they were on dry land; but let only the slightest hitch +occur, let the least sign be seen of anything out of the common, and at +once on every face there comes out an expression of peculiar alarm, +betraying the constant consciousness of constant danger. + +Anna Sergyevna's conversation with Bazarov did not last long. She began +to seem absorbed in thought, answered abstractedly, and suggested at +last that they should go into the hall, where they found the princess +and Katya. 'But where is Arkady Nikolaitch?' inquired the lady of the +house; and on hearing that he had not shown himself for more than an +hour, she sent for him. He was not very quickly found; he had hidden +himself in the very thickest part of the garden, and with his chin +propped on his folded hands, he was sitting lost in meditation. They +were deep and serious meditations, but not mournful. He knew Anna +Sergyevna was sitting alone with Bazarov, and he felt no jealousy, as +once he had; on the contrary, his face slowly brightened; he seemed to +be at once wondering and rejoicing, and resolving on something. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +The deceased Odintsov had not liked innovations, but he had tolerated +'the fine arts within a certain sphere,' and had in consequence put up +in his garden, between the hothouse and the lake, an erection after the +fashion of a Greek temple, made of Russian brick. Along the dark wall +at the back of this temple or gallery were placed six niches for +statues, which Odintsov had proceeded to order from abroad. These +statues were to represent Solitude, Silence, Meditation, Melancholy, +Modesty, and Sensibility. One of them, the goddess of Silence, with her +finger on her lip, had been sent and put up; but on the very same day +some boys on the farm had broken her nose; and though a plasterer of +the neighbourhood undertook to make her a new nose 'twice as good as +the old one,' Odintsov ordered her to be taken away, and she was still +to be seen in the corner of the threshing barn, where she had stood +many long years, a source of superstitious terror to the peasant women. +The front part of the temple had long ago been overgrown with thick +bushes; only the pediments of the columns could be seen above the dense +green. In the temple itself it was cool even at mid-day. Anna Sergyevna +had not liked visiting this place ever since she had seen a snake +there; but Katya often came and sat on the wide stone seat under one of +the niches. Here, in the midst of the shade and coolness, she used to +read and work, or to give herself up to that sensation of perfect +peace, known, doubtless, to each of us, the charm of which consists in +the half-unconscious, silent listening to the vast current of life that +flows for ever both around us and within us. + +The day after Bazarov's arrival Katya was sitting on her favourite +stone seat, and beside her again was sitting Arkady. He had besought +her to come with him to the 'temple.' + +There was about an hour still to lunch-time; the dewy morning had +already given place to a sultry day. Arkady's face retained the +expression of the preceding day; Katya had a preoccupied look. Her +sister had, directly after their morning tea, called her into her room, +and after some preliminary caresses, which always scared Katya a +little, she had advised her to be more guarded in her behaviour with +Arkady, and especially to avoid solitary talks with him, as likely to +attract the notice of her aunt and all the household. Besides this, +even the previous evening Anna Sergyevna had not been herself; and +Katya herself had felt ill at ease, as though she were conscious of +some fault in herself. As she yielded to Arkady's entreaties, she said +to herself that it was for the last time. + +'Katerina Sergyevna,' he began with a sort of bashful easiness, 'since +I've had the happiness of living in the same house with you, I have +discussed a great many things with you; but meanwhile there is one, +very important ... for me ... one question, which I have not touched +upon up till now. You remarked yesterday that I have been changed +here,' he went on, at once catching and avoiding the questioning glance +Katya was turning upon him. 'I have changed certainly a great deal, and +you know that better than any one else--you to whom I really owe this +change.' + +'I?... Me?...' said Katya. + +'I am not now the conceited boy I was when I came here,' Arkady went +on. 'I've not reached twenty-three for nothing; as before, I want to be +useful, I want to devote all my powers to the truth; but I no longer +look for my ideals where I did; they present themselves to me ... much +closer to hand. Up till now I did not understand myself; I set myself +tasks which were beyond my powers.... My eyes have been opened lately, +thanks to one feeling.... I'm not expressing myself quite clearly, but +I hope you understand me.' + +Katya made no reply, but she ceased looking at Arkady. + +'I suppose,' he began again, this time in a more agitated voice, while +above his head a chaffinch sang its song unheeding among the leaves of +the birch--'I suppose it's the duty of every one to be open with those +... with those people who ... in fact, with those who are near to him, +and so I ... I resolved ...' + +But here Arkady's eloquence deserted him; he lost the thread, +stammered, and was forced to be silent for a moment. Katya still did +not raise her eyes. She seemed not to understand what he was leading up +to in all this, and to be waiting for something. + +'I foresee I shall surprise you,' began Arkady, pulling himself +together again with an effort, 'especially since this feeling relates +in a way ... in a way, notice ... to you. You reproached me, if you +remember, yesterday with a want of seriousness,' Arkady went on, with +the air of a man who has got into a bog, feels that he is sinking +further and further in at every step, and yet hurries onwards in the +hope of crossing it as soon as possible; 'that reproach is often aimed +... often falls ... on young men even when they cease to deserve it; +and if I had more self-confidence ...' ('Come, help me, do help me!' +Arkady was thinking, in desperation; but, as before, Katya did not turn +her head.) 'If I could hope ...' + +'If I could feel sure of what you say,' was heard at that instant the +clear voice of Anna Sergyevna. + +Arkady was still at once, while Katya turned pale. Close by the bushes +that screened the temple ran a little path. Anna Sergyevna was walking +along it escorted by Bazarov. Katya and Arkady could not see them, but +they heard every word, the rustle of their clothes, their very +breathing. They walked on a few steps, and, as though on purpose, stood +still just opposite the temple. + +'You see,' pursued Anna Sergyevna, 'you and I made a mistake; we are +both past our first youth, I especially so; we have seen life, we are +tired; we are both--why affect not to know it?--clever; at first we +interested each other, curiosity was aroused ... and then ...' + +'And then I grew stale,' put in Bazarov. + +'You know that was not the cause of our misunderstanding. But, however, +it was to be, we had no need of one another, that's the chief point; +there was too much ... what shall I say? ... that was alike in us. We +did not realise it all at once. Now, Arkady ...' + +'So you need him?' queried Bazarov. + +'Hush, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You tell me he is not indifferent to me, +and it always seemed to me he liked me. I know that I might well be his +aunt, but I don't wish to conceal from you that I have come to think +more often of him. In such youthful, fresh feeling there is a special +charm ...' + +'The word _fascination_ is most usual in such cases,' Bazarov +interrupted; the effervescence of his spleen could be heard in his +choked though steady voice. 'Arkady was mysterious over something with +me yesterday, and didn't talk either of you or your sister.... That's a +serious symptom.' + +'He is just like a brother with Katya,' commented Anna Sergyevna, 'and +I like that in him, though, perhaps, I ought not to have allowed such +intimacy between them.' + +'That idea is prompted by ... your feelings as a sister?' Bazarov +brought out, drawling. + +'Of course ... but why are we standing still? Let us go on. What a +strange talk we are having, aren't we? I could never have believed I +should talk to you like this. You know, I am afraid of you ... and at +the same time I trust you, because in reality you are so good.' + +'In the first place, I am not in the least good; and in the second +place, I have lost all significance for you, and you tell me I am +good.... It's like a laying a wreath of flowers on the head of a +corpse.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, we are not responsible ...' Anna Sergyevna began; +but a gust of wind blew across, set the leaves rustling, and carried +away her words. 'Of course, you are free ...' Bazarov declared after a +brief pause. Nothing more could be distinguished; the steps retreated +... everything was still. + +Arkady turned to Katya. She was sitting in the same position, but her +head was bent still lower. 'Katerina Sergyevna,' he said with a shaking +voice, and clasping his hands tightly together, 'I love you for ever +and irrevocably, and I love no one but you. I wanted to tell you this, +to find out your opinion of me, and to ask for your hand, since I am +not rich, and I feel ready for any sacrifice.... You don't answer me? +You don't believe me? Do you think I speak lightly? But remember these +last days! Surely for a long time past you must have known that +everything--understand me--everything else has vanished long ago and +left no trace? Look at me, say one word to me ... I love ... I love you +... believe me!' + +Katya glanced at Arkady with a bright and serious look, and after long +hesitation, with the faintest smile, she said, 'Yes.' + +Arkady leapt up from the stone seat. 'Yes! You said Yes, Katerina +Sergyevna! What does that word mean? Only that I do love you, that you +believe me ... or ... or ... I daren't go on ...' + +'Yes,' repeated Katya, and this time he understood her. He snatched her +large beautiful hands, and, breathless with rapture, pressed them to +his heart. He could scarcely stand on his feet, and could only repeat, +'Katya, Katya ...' while she began weeping in a guileless way, smiling +gently at her own tears. No one who has not seen those tears in the +eyes of the beloved, knows yet to what a point, faint with shame and +gratitude, a man may be happy on earth. + +The next day, early in the morning, Anna Sergyevna sent to summon +Bazarov to her boudoir, and with a forced laugh handed him a folded +sheet of notepaper. It was a letter from Arkady; in it he asked for her +sister's hand. + +Bazarov quickly scanned the letter, and made an effort to control +himself, that he might not show the malignant feeling which was +instantaneously aflame in his breast. + +'So that's how it is,' he commented; 'and you, I fancy, only yesterday +imagined he loved Katerina Sergyevna as a brother. What are you +intending to do now?' + +'What do you advise me?' asked Anna Sergyevna, still laughing. + +'Well, I suppose,' answered Bazarov, also with a laugh, though he felt +anything but cheerful, and had no more inclination to laugh than she +had; 'I suppose you ought to give the young people your blessing. It's +a good match in every respect; Kirsanov's position is passable, he's +the only son, and his father's a good-natured fellow, he won't try to +thwart him.' + +Madame Odintsov walked up and down the room. By turns her face flushed +and grew pale. 'You think so,' she said. 'Well, I see no obstacles ... +I am glad for Katya ... and for Arkady Nikolaevitch too. Of course, I +will wait for his father's answer. I will send him in person to him. +But it turns out, you see, that I was right yesterday when I told you +we were both old people.... How was it I saw nothing? That's what +amazes me!' Anna Sergyevna laughed again, and quickly turned her head +away. + +'The younger generation have grown awfully sly,' remarked Bazarov, and +he too laughed. 'Good-bye,' he began again after a short silence. 'I +hope you will bring the matter to the most satisfactory conclusion; and +I will rejoice from a distance.' + +Madame Odintsov turned quickly to him. 'You are not going away? Why +should you not stay _now_? Stay ... it's exciting talking to you ... +one seems walking on the edge of a precipice. At first one feels timid, +but one gains courage as one goes on. Do stay.' + +'Thanks for the suggestion, Anna Sergyevna, and for your flattering +opinion of my conversational talents. But I think I have already been +moving too long in a sphere which is not my own. Flying fishes can hold +out for a time in the air; but soon they must splash back into the +water; allow me, too, to paddle in my own element.' + +Madame Odintsov looked at Bazarov. His pale face was twitching with a +bitter smile. 'This man did love me!' she thought, and she felt pity +for him, and held out her hand to him with sympathy. + +But he too understood her. 'No!' he said, stepping back a pace. 'I'm a +poor man, but I've never taken charity so far. Good-bye, and good luck +to you.' + +'I am certain we are not seeing each other for the last time,' Anna +Sergyevna declared with an unconscious gesture. + +'Anything may happen!' answered Bazarov, and he bowed and went away. + +'So you are thinking of making yourself a nest?' he said the same day +to Arkady, as he packed his box, crouching on the floor. 'Well, it's a +capital thing. But you needn't have been such a humbug. I expected +something from you in quite another quarter. Perhaps, though, it took +you by surprise yourself?' + +'I certainly didn't expect this when I parted from you,' answered +Arkady; 'but why are you a humbug yourself, calling it "a capital +thing," as though I didn't know your opinion of marriage.' + +'Ah, my dear fellow,' said Bazarov, 'how you talk! You see what I'm +doing; there seems to be an empty space in the box, and I am putting +hay in; that's how it is in the box of our life; we would stuff it up +with anything rather than have a void. Don't be offended, please; you +remember, no doubt, the opinion I have always had of Katerina +Sergyevna. Many a young lady's called clever simply because she can +sigh cleverly; but yours can hold her own, and, indeed, she'll hold it +so well that she'll have you under her thumb--to be sure, though, +that's quite as it ought to be.' He slammed the lid to, and got up from +the floor. 'And now, I say again, good-bye, for it's useless to deceive +ourselves--we are parting for good, and you know that yourself ... you +have acted sensibly; you're not made for our bitter, rough, lonely +existence. There's no dash, no hate in you, but you've the daring of +youth and the fire of youth. Your sort, you gentry, can never get +beyond refined submission or refined indignation, and that's no good. +You won't fight--and yet you fancy yourselves gallant chaps--but we +mean to fight. Oh well! Our dust would get into your eyes, our mud +would bespatter you, but yet you're not up to our level, you're +admiring yourselves unconsciously, you like to abuse yourselves; but +we're sick of that--we want something else! we want to smash other +people! You're a capital fellow; but you're a sugary, liberal snob for +all that--_ay volla-too_, as my parent is fond of saying.' + +'You are parting from me for ever, Yevgeny,' responded Arkady +mournfully; 'and have you nothing else to say to me?' + +Bazarov scratched the back of his head. 'Yes, Arkady, yes, I have other +things to say to you, but I'm not going to say them, because that's +sentimentalism--that means, mawkishness. And you get married as soon as +you can; and build your nest, and get children to your heart's content. +They'll have the wit to be born in a better time than you and me. Aha! +I see the horses are ready. Time's up! I've said good-bye to every +one.... What now? embracing, eh?' + +Arkady flung himself on the neck of his former leader and friend, and +the tears fairly gushed from his eyes. + +'That's what comes of being young!' Bazarov commented calmly. 'But I +rest my hopes on Katerina Sergyevna. You'll see how quickly she'll +console you! Good-bye, brother!' he said to Arkady when he had got into +the light cart, and, pointing to a pair of jackdaws sitting side by +side on the stable roof, he added, 'That's for you! follow that +example.' + +'What does that mean?' asked Arkady. + +'What? Are you so weak in natural history, or have you forgotten that +the jackdaw is a most respectable family bird? An example to you!... +Good-bye!' + +The cart creaked and rolled away. + +Bazarov had spoken truly. In talking that evening with Katya, Arkady +completely forgot about his former teacher. He already began to follow +her lead, and Katya was conscious of this, and not surprised at it. He +was to set off the next day for Maryino, to see Nikolai Petrovitch. +Anna Sergyevna was not disposed to put any constraint on the young +people, and only on account of the proprieties did not leave them by +themselves for too long together. She magnanimously kept the princess +out of their way; the latter had been reduced to a state of tearful +frenzy by the news of the proposed marriage. At first Anna Sergyevna +was afraid the sight of their happiness might prove rather trying to +herself, but it turned out quite the other way; this sight not only did +not distress her, it interested her, it even softened her at last. Anna +Sergyevna felt both glad and sorry at this. 'It is clear that Bazarov +was right,' she thought; 'it has been curiosity, nothing but curiosity, +and love of ease, and egoism ...' + +'Children,' she said aloud, 'what do you say, is love a purely +imaginary feeling?' + +But neither Katya nor Arkady even understood her. They were shy with +her; the fragment of conversation they had involuntarily overheard +haunted their minds. But Anna Sergyevna soon set their minds at rest; +and it was not difficult for her--she had set her own mind at rest. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +Bazarov's old parents were all the more overjoyed by their son's +arrival, as it was quite unexpected. Arina Vlasyevna was greatly +excited, and kept running backwards and forwards in the house, so that +Vassily Ivanovitch compared her to a 'hen partridge'; the short tail of +her abbreviated jacket did, in fact, give her something of a birdlike +appearance. He himself merely growled and gnawed the amber mouthpiece +of his pipe, or, clutching his neck with his fingers, turned his head +round, as though he were trying whether it were properly screwed on, +then all at once he opened his wide mouth and went off into a perfectly +noiseless chuckle. + +'I've come to you for six whole weeks, governor,' Bazarov said to him. +'I want to work, so please don't hinder me now.' + +'You shall forget my face completely, if you call that hindering you!' +answered Vassily Ivanovitch. + +He kept his promise. After installing his son as before in his study, +he almost hid himself away from him, and he kept his wife from all +superfluous demonstrations of tenderness. 'On Enyusha's first visit, my +dear soul,' he said to her, 'we bothered him a little; we must be wiser +this time.' Arina Vlasyevna agreed with her husband, but that was small +compensation since she saw her son only at meals, and was now +absolutely afraid to address him. 'Enyushenka,' she would say +sometimes--and before he had time to look round, she was nervously +fingering the tassels of her reticule and faltering, 'Never mind, never +mind, I only----' and afterwards she would go to Vassily Ivanovitch +and, her cheek in her hand, would consult him: 'If you could only find +out, darling, which Enyusha would like for dinner to-day--cabbage-broth +or beetroot-soup?'--'But why didn't you ask him yourself?'--'Oh, he +will get sick of me!' Bazarov, however, soon ceased to shut himself up; +the fever of work fell away, and was replaced by dreary boredom or +vague restlessness. A strange weariness began to show itself in all his +movements; even his walk, firm, bold and strenuous, was changed. He +gave up walking in solitude, and began to seek society; he drank tea in +the drawing-room, strolled about the kitchen-garden with Vassily +Ivanovitch, and smoked with him in silence; once even asked after +Father Alexey. Vassily Ivanovitch at first rejoiced at this change, but +his joy was not long-lived. 'Enyusha's breaking my heart,' he +complained in secret to his wife; 'it's not that he's discontented or +angry--that would be nothing; he's sad, he's sorrowful--that's what's +so terrible. He's always silent. If he'd only abuse us; he's growing +thin, he's lost his colour.'--'Mercy on us, mercy on us!' whispered the +old woman; 'I would put an amulet on his neck, but, of course, he won't +allow it.' Vassily Ivanovitch several times attempted in the most +circumspect manner to question Bazarov about his work, about his +health, and about Arkady.... But Bazarov's replies were reluctant and +casual; and, once noticing that his father was trying gradually to lead +up to something in conversation, he said to him in a tone of vexation: +'Why do you always seem to be walking round me on tiptoe? That way's +worse than the old one.'--'There, there, I meant nothing!' poor Vassily +Ivanovitch answered hurriedly. So his diplomatic hints remained +fruitless. He hoped to awaken his son's sympathy one day by beginning +_à propos_ of the approaching emancipation of the peasantry, to talk +about progress; but the latter responded indifferently: 'Yesterday I +was walking under the fence, and I heard the peasant boys here, instead +of some old ballad, bawling a street song. That's what progress is.' + +Sometimes Bazarov went into the village, and in his usual bantering +tone entered into conversation with some peasant: 'Come,' he would say +to him, 'expound your views on life to me, brother; you see, they say +all the strength and future of Russia lies in your hands, a new epoch +in history will be started by you--you give us our real language and +our laws.' + +The peasant either made no reply, or articulated a few words of this +sort, 'Well, we'll try ... because, you see, to be sure....' + +'You explain to me what your _mir_ is,' Bazarov interrupted; 'and is it +the same _mir_ that is said to rest on three fishes?' + +'That, little father, is the earth that rests on three fishes,' the +peasant would declare soothingly, in a kind of patriarchal, +simple-hearted sing-song; 'and over against ours, that's to say, the +_mir_, we know there's the master's will; wherefore you are our +fathers. And the stricter the master's rule, the better for the +peasant.' + +After listening to such a reply one day, Bazarov shrugged his shoulders +contemptuously and turned away, while the peasant sauntered slowly +homewards. + +'What was he talking about?' inquired another peasant of middle age and +surly aspect, who at a distance from the door of his hut had been +following his conversation with Bazarov.--'Arrears? eh?' + +'Arrears, no indeed, mate!' answered the first peasant, and now there +was no trace of patriarchal singsong in his voice; on the contrary, +there was a certain scornful gruffness to be heard in it: 'Oh, he +clacked away about something or other; wanted to stretch his tongue a +bit. Of course, he's a gentleman; what does he understand?' + +'What should he understand!' answered the other peasant, and jerking +back their caps and pushing down their belts, they proceeded to +deliberate upon their work and their wants. Alas! Bazarov, shrugging +his shoulders contemptuously, Bazarov, who knew how to talk to peasants +(as he had boasted in his dispute with Pavel Petrovitch), did not in +his self-confidence even suspect that in their eyes he was all the +while something of the nature of a buffooning clown. + +He found employment for himself at last, however. One day Vassily +Ivanovitch bound up a peasant's wounded leg before him, but the old +man's hands trembled, and he could not manage the bandages; his son +helped him, and from time to time began to take a share in his +practice, though at the same time he was constantly sneering both at +the remedies he himself advised and at his father, who hastened to make +use of them. But Bazarov's jeers did not in the least perturb Vassily +Ivanovitch; they were positively a comfort to him. Holding his greasy +dressing-gown across his stomach with two fingers, and smoking his +pipe, he used to listen with enjoyment to Bazarov; and the more +malicious his sallies, the more good-humouredly did his delighted +father chuckle, showing every one of his black teeth. He used even to +repeat these sometimes flat or pointless retorts, and would, for +instance, for several days constantly without rhyme or reason, +reiterate, 'Not a matter of the first importance!' simply because his +son, on hearing he was going to matins, had made use of that +expression. 'Thank God! he has got over his melancholy!' he whispered +to his wife; 'how he gave it to me to-day, it was splendid!' Moreover, +the idea of having such an assistant excited him to ecstasy, filled him +with pride. 'Yes, yes,' he would say to some peasant woman in a man's +cloak, and a cap shaped like a horn, as he handed her a bottle of +Goulard's extract or a box of white ointment, 'you ought to be thanking +God, my good woman, every minute that my son is staying with me; you +will be treated now by the most scientific, most modern method. Do you +know what that means? The Emperor of the French, Napoleon, even, has no +better doctor.' And the peasant woman, who had come to complain that +she felt so sort of queer all over (the exact meaning of these words +she was not able, however, herself to explain), merely bowed low and +rummaged in her bosom, where four eggs lay tied up in the corner of a +towel. + +Bazarov once even pulled out a tooth for a passing pedlar of cloth; and +though this tooth was an average specimen, Vassily Ivanovitch preserved +it as a curiosity, and incessantly repeated, as he showed it to Father +Alexey, 'Just look, what a fang! The force Yevgeny has! The pedlar +seemed to leap into the air. If it had been an oak, he'd have rooted it +up!' + +'Most promising!' Father Alexey would comment at last, not knowing what +answer to make, and how to get rid of the ecstatic old man. + +One day a peasant from a neighbouring village brought his brother to +Vassily Ivanovitch, ill with typhus. The unhappy man, lying flat on a +truss of straw, was dying; his body was covered with dark patches, he +had long ago lost consciousness. Vassily Ivanovitch expressed his +regret that no one had taken steps to procure medical aid sooner, and +declared there was no hope. And, in fact, the peasant did not get his +brother home again; he died in the cart. + +Three days later Bazarov came into his father's room and asked him if +he had any caustic. + +'Yes; what do you want it for?' + +'I must have some ... to burn a cut.' + +'For whom?' + +'For myself.' + +'What, yourself? Why is that? What sort of a cut? Where is it?' + +'Look here, on my finger. I went to-day to the village, you know, where +they brought that peasant with typhus fever. They were just going to +open the body for some reason or other, and I've had no practice of +that sort for a long while.' + +'Well?' + +'Well, so I asked the district doctor about it; and so I dissected it.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch all at once turned quite white, and, without +uttering a word, rushed to his study, from which he returned at once +with a bit of caustic in his hand. Bazarov was about to take it and go +away. + +'For mercy's sake,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, 'let me do it myself.' + +Bazarov smiled. 'What a devoted practitioner!' + +'Don't laugh, please. Show me your finger. The cut is not a large one. +Do I hurt?' + +'Press harder; don't be afraid.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch stopped. 'What do you think, Yevgeny; wouldn't it be +better to burn it with hot iron?' + +'That ought to have been done sooner; the caustic even is useless, +really, now. If I've taken the infection, it's too late now.' + +'How ... too late ...' Vassily Ivanovitch could scarcely articulate the +words. + +'I should think so! It's more than four hours ago.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch burnt the cut a little more. 'But had the district +doctor no caustic?' + +'No.' + +'How was that, good Heavens? A doctor not have such an indispensable +thing as that!' + +'You should have seen his lancets,' observed Bazarov as he walked away. + +Up till late that evening, and all the following day, Vassily +Ivanovitch kept catching at every possible excuse to go into his son's +room; and though far from referring to the cut--he even tried to talk +about the most irrelevant subjects--he looked so persistently into his +face, and watched him in such trepidation, that Bazarov lost patience +and threatened to go away. Vassily Ivanovitch gave him a promise not to +bother him, the more readily as Arina Vlasyevna, from whom, of course, +he kept it all secret, was beginning to worry him as to why he did not +sleep, and what had come over him. For two whole days he held himself +in, though he did not at all like the look of his son, whom he kept +watching stealthily, ... but on the third day, at dinner, he could bear +it no longer. Bazarov sat with downcast looks, and had not touched a +single dish. + +'Why don't you eat, Yevgeny?' he inquired, putting on an expression of +the most perfect carelessness. 'The food, I think, is very nicely +cooked.' + +'I don't want anything, so I don't eat.' + +'Have you no appetite? And your head?' he added timidly; 'does it +ache?' + +'Yes. Of course, it aches.' + +Arina Vlasyevna sat up and was all alert. + +'Don't be angry, please, Yevgeny,' continued Vassily Ivanovitch; 'won't +you let me feel your pulse?' + +Bazarov got up. 'I can tell you without feeling my pulse; I'm +feverish.' + +'Has there been any shivering?' + +'Yes, there has been shivering too. I'll go and lie down, and you can +send me some lime-flower tea. I must have caught cold.' + +'To be sure, I heard you coughing last night,' observed Arina +Vlasyevna. + +'I've caught cold,' repeated Bazarov, and he went away. + +Arina Vlasyevna busied herself about the preparation of the decoction +of lime-flowers, while Vassily Ivanovitch went into the next room and +clutched at his hair in silent desperation. + +Bazarov did not get up again that day, and passed the whole night in +heavy, half-unconscious torpor. At one o'clock in the morning, opening +his eyes with an effort, he saw by the light of a lamp his father's +pale face bending over him, and told him to go away. The old man begged +his pardon, but he quickly came back on tiptoe, and half-hidden by the +cupboard door, he gazed persistently at his son. Arina Vlasyevna did +not go to bed either, and leaving the study door just open a very +little, she kept coming up to it to listen 'how Enyusha was breathing,' +and to look at Vassily Ivanovitch. She could see nothing but his +motionless bent back, but even that afforded her some faint +consolation. In the morning Bazarov tried to get up; he was seized with +giddiness, his nose began to bleed; he lay down again. Vassily +Ivanovitch waited on him in silence; Arina Vlasyevna went in to him and +asked him how he was feeling. He answered, 'Better,' and turned to the +wall. Vassily Ivanovitch gesticulated at his wife with both hands; she +bit her lips so as not to cry, and went away. The whole house seemed +suddenly darkened; every one looked gloomy; there was a strange hush; a +shrill cock was carried away from the yard to the village, unable to +comprehend why he should be treated so. Bazarov still lay, turned to +the wall. Vassily Ivanovitch tried to address him with various +questions, but they fatigued Bazarov, and the old man sank into his +armchair, motionless, only cracking his finger-joints now and then. He +went for a few minutes into the garden, stood there like a statue, as +though overwhelmed with unutterable bewilderment (the expression of +amazement never left his face all through), and went back again to his +son, trying to avoid his wife's questions. She caught him by the arm at +last and passionately, almost menacingly, said, 'What is wrong with +him?' Then he came to himself, and forced himself to smile at her in +reply; but to his own horror, instead of a smile, he found himself +taken somehow by a fit of laughter. He had sent at daybreak for a +doctor. He thought it necessary to inform his son of this, for fear he +should be angry. Bazarov suddenly turned over on the sofa, bent a fixed +dull look on his father, and asked for drink. + +Vassily Ivanovitch gave him some water, and as he did so felt his +forehead. It seemed on fire. + +'Governor,' began Bazarov, in a slow, drowsy voice; 'I'm in a bad way; +I've got the infection, and in a few days you'll have to bury me.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch staggered back, as though some one had aimed a blow +at his legs. + +'Yevgeny!' he faltered; 'what do you mean!... God have mercy on you! +You've caught cold!' + +'Hush!' Bazarov interposed deliberately. 'A doctor can't be allowed to +talk like that. There's every symptom of infection; you know yourself.' + +'Where are the symptoms ... of infection Yevgeny?... Good Heavens!' + +'What's this?' said Bazarov, and, pulling up his shirtsleeve, he showed +his father the ominous red patches coming out on his arm. + +Vassily Ivanovitch was shaking and chill with terror. + +'Supposing,' he said at last, 'even supposing ... if even there's +something like ... infection ...' + +'Pyæmia,' put in his son. + +'Well, well ... something of the epidemic ...' + +'Pyæmia,' Bazarov repeated sharply and distinctly; 'have you forgotten +your text-books?' + +'Well, well--as you like.... Anyway, we will cure you!' + +'Come, that's humbug. But that's not the point. I didn't expect to die +so soon; it's a most unpleasant incident, to tell the truth. You and +mother ought to make the most of your strong religious belief; now's +the time to put it to the test.' He drank off a little water. 'I want +to ask you about one thing ... while my head is still under my control. +To-morrow or next day my brain, you know, will send in its resignation. +I'm not quite certain even now whether I'm expressing myself clearly. +While I've been lying here, I've kept fancying red dogs were running +round me, while you were making them point at me, as if I were a +woodcock. Just as if I were drunk. Do you understand me all right?' + +'I assure you, Yevgeny, you are talking perfectly correctly.' + +'All the better. You told me you'd sent for the doctor. You did that to +comfort yourself ... comfort me too; send a messenger ...' + +'To Arkady Nikolaitch?' put in the old man. + +'Who's Arkady Nikolaitch?' said Bazarov, as though in doubt.... 'Oh, +yes! that chicken! No, let him alone; he's turned jackdaw now. Don't be +surprised; that's not delirium yet. You send a messenger to Madame +Odintsov, Anna Sergyevna; she's a lady with an estate.... Do you know?' +(Vassily Ivanovitch nodded.) 'Yevgeny Bazarov, say, sends his +greetings, and sends word he is dying. Will you do that?' + +'Yes, I will do it.... But is it a possible thing for you to die, +Yevgeny?... Think only! Where would divine justice be after that?' + +'I know nothing about that; only you send the messenger.' + +'I'll send this minute, and I'll write a letter myself.' + +'No, why? Say I sent greetings; nothing more is necessary. And now I'll +go back to my dogs. Strange! I want to fix my thoughts on death, and +nothing comes of it. I see a kind of blur ... and nothing more.' + +He turned painfully back to the wall again; while Vassily Ivanovitch +went out of the study, and struggling as far as his wife's bedroom, +simply dropped down on to his knees before the holy pictures. + +'Pray, Arina, pray for us!' he moaned; 'our son is dying.' + +The doctor, the same district doctor who had had no caustic, arrived, +and after looking at the patient, advised them to persevere with a +cooling treatment, and at that point said a few words of the chance of +recovery. + +'Have you ever chanced to see people in my state _not_ set off for +Elysium?' asked Bazarov, and suddenly snatching the leg of a heavy +table that stood near his sofa, he swung it round, and pushed it away. +'There's strength, there's strength,' he murmured; 'everything's here +still, and I must die!... An old man at least has time to be weaned +from life, but I ... Well, go and try to disprove death. Death will +disprove you, and that's all! Who's crying there?' he added, after a +short pause--'Mother? Poor thing! Whom will she feed now with her +exquisite beetroot-soup? You, Vassily Ivanovitch, whimpering too, I do +believe! Why, if Christianity's no help to you, be a philosopher, a +Stoic, or what not! Why, didn't you boast you were a philosopher?' + +'Me a philosopher!' wailed Vassily Ivanovitch, while the tears fairly +streamed down his cheeks. + +Bazarov got worse every hour; the progress of the disease was rapid, as +is usually the way in cases of surgical poisoning. He still had not +lost consciousness, and understood what was said to him; he was still +struggling. 'I don't want to lose my wits,' he muttered, clenching his +fists; 'what rot it all is!' And at once he would say, 'Come, take ten +from eight, what remains?' Vassily Ivanovitch wandered about like one +possessed, proposed first one remedy, then another, and ended by doing +nothing but cover up his son's feet. 'Try cold pack ... emetic ... +mustard plasters on the stomach ... bleeding,' he would murmur with an +effort. The doctor, whom he had entreated to remain, agreed with him, +ordered the patient lemonade to drink, and for himself asked for a pipe +and something 'warming and strengthening'--that's to say, brandy. Arina +Vlasyevna sat on a low stool near the door, and only went out from time +to time to pray. A few days before, a looking-glass had slipped out of +her hands and been broken, and this she had always considered an omen +of evil; even Anfisushka could say nothing to her. Timofeitch had gone +off to Madame Odintsov's. + +The night passed badly for Bazarov.... He was in the agonies of high +fever. Towards morning he was a little easier. He asked for Arina +Vlasyevna to comb his hair, kissed her hand, and swallowed two gulps of +tea. Vassily Ivanovitch revived a little. + +'Thank God!' he kept declaring; 'the crisis is coming, the crisis is at +hand!' + +'There, to think now!' murmured Bazarov; 'what a word can do! He's +found it; he's said "crisis," and is comforted. It's an astounding +thing how man believes in words. If he's told he's a fool, for +instance, though he's not thrashed, he'll be wretched; call him a +clever fellow, and he'll be delighted if you go off without paying +him.' + +This little speech of Bazarov's, recalling his old retorts, moved +Vassily Ivanovitch greatly. + +'Bravo! well said, very good!' he cried, making as though he were +clapping his hands. + +Bazarov smiled mournfully. + +'So what do you think,' he said; 'is the crisis over, or coming?' + +'You are better, that's what I see, that's what rejoices me,' answered +Vassily Ivanovitch. + +'Well, that's good; rejoicings never come amiss. And to her, do you +remember? did you send?' + +'To be sure I did.' + +The change for the better did not last long. The disease resumed its +onslaughts. Vassily Ivanovitch was sitting by Bazarov. It seemed as +though the old man were tormented by some special anguish. He was +several times on the point of speaking--and could not. + +'Yevgeny!' he brought out at last; 'my son, my one, dear son!' + +This unfamiliar mode of address produced an effect on Bazarov. He +turned his head a little, and, obviously trying to fight against the +load of oblivion weighing upon him, he articulated: 'What is it, +father?' + +'Yevgeny,' Vassily Ivanovitch went on, and he fell on his knees before +Bazarov, though the latter had closed his eyes and could not see him. +'Yevgeny, you are better now; please God, you will get well, but make +use of this time, comfort your mother and me, perform the duty of a +Christian! What it means for me to say this to you, it's awful; but +still more awful ... for ever and ever, Yevgeny ... think a little, +what ...' + +The old man's voice broke, and a strange look passed over his son's +face, though he still lay with closed eyes. + +'I won't refuse, if that can be any comfort to you,' he brought out at +last; 'but it seems to me there's no need to be in a hurry. You say +yourself I am better.' + +'Oh, yes, Yevgeny, better certainly; but who knows, it is all in God's +hands, and in doing the duty ...' + +'No, I will wait a bit,' broke in Bazarov. 'I agree with you that the +crisis has come. And if we're mistaken, well! they give the sacrament +to men who're unconscious, you know.' + +'Yevgeny, I beg.' + +'I'll wait a little. And now I want to go to sleep. Don't disturb me.' +And he laid his head back on the pillow. + +The old man rose from his knees, sat down in the armchair, and, +clutching his beard, began biting his own fingers ... + +The sound of a light carriage on springs, that sound which is +peculiarly impressive in the wilds of the country, suddenly struck upon +his hearing. Nearer and nearer rolled the light wheels; now even the +neighing of the horses could be heard.... Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up +and ran to the little window. There drove into the courtyard of his +little house a carriage with seats for two, with four horses harnessed +abreast. Without stopping to consider what it could mean, with a rush +of a sort of senseless joy, he ran out on to the steps.... A groom in +livery was opening the carriage doors; a lady in a black veil and a +black mantle was getting out of it ... + +'I am Madame Odintsov,' she said. 'Yevgeny Vassilvitch is still living? +You are his father? I have a doctor with me.' + +'Benefactress!' cried Vassily Ivanovitch, and snatching her hand, he +pressed it convulsively to his lips, while the doctor brought by Anna +Sergyevna, a little man in spectacles, of German physiognomy, stepped +very deliberately out of the carriage. 'Still living, my Yevgeny is +living, and now he will be saved! Wife! wife!... An angel from heaven +has come to us....' + +'What does it mean, good Lord!' faltered the old woman, running out of +the drawing-room; and, comprehending nothing, she fell on the spot in +the passage at Anna Sergyevna's feet, and began kissing her garments +like a mad woman. + +'What are you doing!' protested Anna Sergyevna; but Arina Vlasyevna did +not heed her, while Vassily Ivanovitch could only repeat, 'An angel! an +angel!' + +'_Wo ist der Kranke?_ and where is the patient?' said the doctor at +last, with some impatience. + +Vassily Ivanovitch recovered himself. 'Here, here, follow me, +würdigster Herr Collega,' he added through old associations. + +'Ah!' articulated the German, grinning sourly. + +Vassily Ivanovitch led him into the study. 'The doctor from Anna +Sergyevna Odintsov,' he said, bending down quite to his son's ear, 'and +she herself is here.' + +Bazarov suddenly opened his eyes. 'What did you say?' + +'I say that Anna Sergyevna is here, and has brought this gentleman, a +doctor, to you.' + +Bazarov moved his eyes about him. 'She is here.... I want to see her.' + +'You shall see her, Yevgeny; but first we must have a little talk with +the doctor. I will tell him the whole history of your illness since +Sidor Sidoritch' (this was the name of the district doctor) 'has gone, +and we will have a little consultation.' + +Bazarov glanced at the German. 'Well, talk away quickly, only not in +Latin; you see, I know the meaning of _jam moritur_.' + +'_Der Herr scheint des Deutschen mächtig zu sein_,' began the new +follower of Æsculapius, turning to Vassily Ivanovitch. + +'_Ich_ ... _gabe_ ... We had better speak Russian,' said the old man. + +'Ah, ah! so that's how it is.... To be sure ...' And the consultation +began. + +Half-an-hour later Anna Sergyevna, conducted by Vassily Ivanovitch, +came into the study. The doctor had had time to whisper to her that it +was hopeless even to think of the patient's recovery. + +She looked at Bazarov ... and stood still in the doorway, so greatly +was she impressed by the inflamed, and at the same time deathly face, +with its dim eyes fastened upon her. She felt simply dismayed, with a +sort of cold and suffocating dismay; the thought that she would not +have felt like that if she had really loved him flashed instantaneously +through her brain. + +'Thanks,' he said painfully, 'I did not expect this. It's a deed of +mercy. So we have seen each other again, as you promised.' + +'Anna Sergyevna has been so kind,' began Vassily Ivanovitch ... + +'Father, leave us alone. Anna Sergyevna, you will allow it, I fancy, +now?' + +With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless frame. + +Vassily Ivanovitch went out. + +'Well, thanks,' repeated Bazarov. 'This is royally done. Monarchs, they +say, visit the dying too.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I hope----' + +'Ah, Anna Sergyevna, let us speak the truth. It's all over with me. I'm +under the wheel. So it turns out that it was useless to think of the +future. Death's an old joke, but it comes fresh to every one. So far +I'm not afraid ... but there, senselessness is coming, and then it's +all up!----' he waved his hand feebly. 'Well, what had I to say to +you ... I loved you! there was no sense in that even before, and less +than ever now. Love is a form, and my own form is already breaking +up. Better say how lovely you are! And now here you stand, so +beautiful ...' + +Anna Sergyevna gave an involuntary shudder. + +'Never mind, don't be uneasy.... Sit down there.... Don't come close to +me; you know, my illness is catching.' + +Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in the armchair +near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying. + +'Noble-hearted!' he whispered. 'Oh, how near, and how young, and fresh, +and pure ... in this loathsome room!... Well, good-bye! live long, +that's the best of all, and make the most of it while there is time. +You see what a hideous spectacle; the worm half-crushed, but writhing +still. And, you see, I thought too: I'd break down so many things, I +wouldn't die, why should I! there were problems to solve, and I was a +giant! And now all the problem for the giant is how to die decently, +though that makes no difference to any one either.... Never mind; I'm +not going to turn tail.' + +Bazarov was silent, and began feeling with his hand for the glass. Anna +Sergyevna gave him some drink, not taking off her glove, and drawing +her breath timorously. + +'You will forget me,' he began again; 'the dead's no companion for the +living. My father will tell you what a man Russia is losing.... That's +nonsense, but don't contradict the old man. Whatever toy will comfort +the child ... you know. And be kind to mother. People like them aren't +to be found in your great world if you look by daylight with a +candle.... I was needed by Russia.... No, it's clear, I wasn't needed. +And who is needed? The shoemaker's needed, the tailor's needed, the +butcher ... gives us meat ... the butcher ... wait a little, I'm +getting mixed.... There's a forest here ...' + +Bazarov put his hand to his brow. + +Anna Sergyevna bent down to him. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I am here ...' + +He at once took his hand away, and raised himself. + +'Good-bye,' he said with sudden force, and his eyes gleamed with their +last light. 'Good-bye.... Listen ... you know I didn't kiss you +then.... Breathe on the dying lamp, and let it go out ...' + +Anna Sergyevna put her lips to his forehead. + +'Enough!' he murmured, and dropped back on to the pillow. 'Now ... +darkness ...' + +Anna Sergyevna went softly out. 'Well?' Vassily Ivanovitch asked her in +a whisper. + +'He has fallen asleep,' she answered, hardly audibly. Bazarov was not +fated to awaken. Towards evening he sank into complete unconsciousness, +and the following day he died. Father Alexey performed the last rites +of religion over him. When they anointed him with the last unction, +when the holy oil touched his breast, one eye opened, and it seemed as +though at the sight of the priest in his vestments, the smoking +censers, the light before the image, something like a shudder of horror +passed over the death-stricken face. When at last he had breathed his +last, and there arose a universal lamentation in the house, Vassily +Ivanovitch was seized by a sudden frenzy. 'I said I should rebel,' he +shrieked hoarsely, with his face inflamed and distorted, shaking his +fist in the air, as though threatening some one; 'and I rebel, I +rebel!' But Arina Vlasyevna, all in tears, hung upon his neck, and both +fell on their faces together. 'Side by side,' Anfisushka related +afterwards in the servants' room, 'they dropped their poor heads like +lambs at noonday ...' + +But the heat of noonday passes, and evening comes and night, and then, +too, the return to the kindly refuge, where sleep is sweet for the +weary and heavy laden.... + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +Six months had passed by. White winter had come with the cruel +stillness of unclouded frosts, the thick-lying, crunching snow, the +rosy rime on the trees, the pale emerald sky, the wreaths of smoke +above the chimneys, the clouds of steam rushing out of the doors when +they are opened for an instant, with the fresh faces, that look stung +by the cold, and the hurrying trot of the chilled horses. A January day +was drawing to its close; the cold evening was more keen than ever in +the motionless air, and a lurid sunset was rapidly dying away. There +were lights burning in the windows of the house at Maryino; Prokofitch +in a black frockcoat and white gloves, with a special solemnity, laid +the table for seven. A week before in the small parish church two +weddings had taken place quietly, and almost without witnesses--Arkady +and Katya's, and Nikolai Petrovitch and Fenitchka's; and on this day +Nikolai Petrovitch was giving a farewell dinner to his brother, who was +going away to Moscow on business. Anna Sergyevna had gone there also +directly after the ceremony was over, after making very handsome +presents to the young people. + +Precisely at three o'clock they all gathered about the table. Mitya was +placed there too; with him appeared a nurse in a cap of glazed brocade. +Pavel Petrovitch took his seat between Katya and Fenitchka; the +'husbands' took their places beside their wives. Our friends had +changed of late; they all seemed to have grown stronger and better +looking; only Pavel Petrovitch was thinner, which gave even more of an +elegant and 'grand seigneur' air to his expressive features.... And +Fenitchka too was different. In a fresh silk gown, with a wide velvet +head-dress on her hair, with a gold chain round her neck, she sat with +deprecating immobility, respectful towards herself and everything +surrounding her, and smiled as though she would say, 'I beg your +pardon; I'm not to blame.' And not she alone--all the others smiled, +and also seemed apologetic; they were all a little awkward, a little +sorry, and in reality very happy. They all helped one another with +humorous attentiveness, as though they had all agreed to rehearse a +sort of artless farce. Katya was the most composed of all; she looked +confidently about her, and it could be seen that Nikolai Petrovitch was +already devotedly fond of her. At the end of dinner he got up, and, his +glass in his hand, turned to Pavel Petrovitch. + +'You are leaving us ... you are leaving us, dear brother,' he began; +'not for long, to be sure; but still, I cannot help expressing what I +... what we ... how much I ... how much we.... There, the worst of it +is, we don't know how to make speeches. Arkady, you speak.' + +'No, daddy, I've not prepared anything.' + +'As though I were so well prepared! Well, brother, I will simply say, +let us embrace you, wish you all good luck, and come back to us as +quickly as you can!' + +Pavel Petrovitch exchanged kisses with every one, of course not +excluding Mitya; in Fenitchka's case, he kissed also her hand, which +she had not yet learned to offer properly, and drinking off the glass +which had been filled again, he said with a deep sigh, 'May you be +happy, my friends! _Farewell!_' This English finale passed unnoticed; +but all were touched. + +'To the memory of Bazarov,' Katya whispered in her husband's ear, as +she clinked glasses with him. Arkady pressed her hand warmly in +response, but he did not venture to propose this toast aloud. + +The end, would it seem? But perhaps some one of our readers would care +to know what each of the characters we have introduced is doing in the +present, the actual present. We are ready to satisfy him. + +Anna Sergyevna has recently made a marriage, not of love but of good +sense, with one of the future leaders of Russia, a very clever man, a +lawyer, possessed of vigorous practical sense, a strong will, and +remarkable fluency--still young, good-natured, and cold as ice. They +live in the greatest harmony together, and will live perhaps to attain +complete happiness ... perhaps love. The Princess K---- is dead, +forgotten the day of her death. The Kirsanovs, father and son, live at +Maryino; their fortunes are beginning to mend. Arkady has become +zealous in the management of the estate, and the 'farm' now yields a +fairly good income. Nikolai Petrovitch has been made one of the +mediators appointed to carry out the emancipation reforms, and works +with all his energies; he is for ever driving about over his district; +delivers long speeches (he maintains the opinion that the peasants +ought to be 'brought to comprehend things,' that is to say, they ought +to be reduced to a state of quiescence by the constant repetition of +the same words); and yet, to tell the truth, he does not give complete +satisfaction either to the refined gentry, who talk with _chic_, or +depression of the _emancipation_ (pronouncing it as though it were +French), nor of the uncultivated gentry, who unceremoniously curse 'the +damned _'mancipation_.' He is too soft-hearted for both sets. Katerina +Sergyevna has a son, little Nikolai, while Mitya runs about merrily and +talks fluently. Fenitchka, Fedosya Nikolaevna, after her husband and +Mitya, adores no one so much as her daughter-in-law, and when the +latter is at the piano, she would gladly spend the whole day at her +side. + +A passing word of Piotr. He has grown perfectly rigid with stupidity +and dignity, but he too is married, and received a respectable dowry +with his bride, the daughter of a market-gardener of the town, who had +refused two excellent suitors, only because they had no watch; while +Piotr had not only a watch--he had a pair of kid shoes. + +In the Brühl Terrace in Dresden, between two and four o'clock--the most +fashionable time for walking--you may meet a man about fifty, quite +grey, and looking as though he suffered from gout, but still handsome, +elegantly dressed, and with that special stamp, which is only gained by +moving a long time in the higher strata of society. That is Pavel +Petrovitch. From Moscow he went abroad for the sake of his health, and +has settled for good at Dresden, where he associates most with English +and Russian visitors. With English people he behaves simply, almost +modestly, but with dignity; they find him rather a bore, but respect +him for being, as they say, _'a perfect gentleman.'_ With Russians he +is more free and easy, gives vent to his spleen, and makes fun of +himself and them, but that is done by him with great amiability, +negligence, and propriety. He holds Slavophil views; it is well known +that in the highest society this is regarded as _très distingué_! He +reads nothing in Russian, but on his writing table there is a silver +ashpan in the shape of a peasant's plaited shoe. He is much run after +by our tourists. Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, happening to be in temporary +opposition, paid him a majestic visit; while the natives, with whom, +however, he is very little seen, positively grovel before him. No one +can so readily and quickly obtain a ticket for the court chapel, for +the theatre, and such things as _der Herr Baron von Kirsanoff_. He does +everything good-naturedly that he can; he still makes some little noise +in the world; it is not for nothing that he was once a great society +lion;--but life is a burden to him ... a heavier burden than he +suspects himself. One need but glance at him in the Russian church, +when, leaning against the wall on one side, he sinks into thought, and +remains long without stirring, bitterly compressing his lips, then +suddenly recollects himself, and begins almost imperceptibly crossing +himself.... + +Madame Kukshin, too, went abroad. She is in Heidelberg, and is now +studying not natural science, but architecture, in which, according to +her own account, she has discovered new laws. She still fraternises +with students, especially with the young Russians studying natural +science and chemistry, with whom Heidelberg is crowded, and who, +astounding the naïve German professors at first by the soundness of +their views of things, astound the same professors no less in the +sequel by their complete inefficiency and absolute idleness. In company +with two or three such young chemists, who don't know oxygen from +nitrogen, but are filled with scepticism and self-conceit, and, too, +with the great Elisyevitch, Sitnikov roams about Petersburg, also +getting ready to be great, and in his own conviction continues the +'work' of Bazarov. There is a story that some one recently gave him a +beating; but he was avenged upon him; in an obscure little article, +hidden in an obscure little journal, he has hinted that the man who +beat him was a coward. He calls this irony. His father bullies him as +before, while his wife regards him as a fool ... and a literary man. + +There is a small village graveyard in one of the remote corners of +Russia. Like almost all our graveyards, it presents a wretched +appearance; the ditches surrounding it have long been overgrown; the +grey wooden crosses lie fallen and rotting under their once painted +gables; the stone slabs are all displaced, as though some one were +pushing them up from behind; two or three bare trees give a scanty +shade; the sheep wander unchecked among the tombs.... But among them is +one untouched by man, untrampled by beast, only the birds perch upon it +and sing at daybreak. An iron railing runs round it; two young +fir-trees have been planted, one at each end. Yevgeny Bazarov is buried +in this tomb. Often from the little village not far off, two quite +feeble old people come to visit it--a husband and wife. Supporting one +another, they move to it with heavy steps; they go up to the railing, +fall down, and remain on their knees, and long and bitterly they weep, +and yearn and intently gaze at the dumb stone, under which their son is +lying; they exchange some brief word, wipe away the dust from the +stone, set straight a branch of a fir-tree, and pray again, and cannot +tear themselves from this place, where they seem to be nearer to their +son, to their memories of him.... Can it be that their prayers, their +tears are fruitless? Can it be that love, sacred, devoted love, is not +all-powerful? Oh, no! However passionate, sinning, and rebellious the +heart hidden in the tomb, the flowers growing over it peep serenely at +us with their innocent eyes; they tell us not of eternal peace alone, +of that great peace of 'indifferent' nature; tell us too of eternal +reconciliation and of life without end. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN*** + + +******* This file should be named 30723-8.txt or 30723-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/7/2/30723 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Fathers and Children</p> +<p>Author: Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev</p> +<p>Release Date: December 21, 2009 [eBook #30723]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN***</p> +<br><br><center><h4>E-text prepared by Ron Swanson<br> + from page images generously made available by<br> + Internet Archive/American Libraries<br> + (<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/americana">http://www.archive.org/details/americana</a>)</h4></center><br><br> +<p> </p> +<table border=0 bgcolor="ccccff" cellpadding=10> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive/American Libraries. See + <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/harvardclassicss19elio"> + http://www.archive.org/details/harvardclassicss19elio</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<p> </p> + +<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="6" summary="frontispiece"> + <tr> + <td width="492"> + <img src="images/1.jpg" alt="AVENUE AT SPASSKOE, TURGENEV'S ESTATE"> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td width="492" align="center"> + <small>AVENUE AT SPASSKOE, TURGENEV'S ESTATE</small> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>THE HARVARD CLASSICS<br> +SHELF OF FICTION<br> +[From Vol. 19]</h4> +<center><small>SELECTED BY CHARLES W ELIOT LL D</small></center> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>FATHERS AND CHILDREN</h1> + +<center><small>BY</small></center> + +<h3>IVAN TURGENEV</h3> +<br> +<center><small>TRANSLATED BY CONSTANCE GARNETT</small></center> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="logo"> + <tr> + <td width="200"> + <img src="images/2.jpg" alt="Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction logo"> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<center><small>EDITED WITH NOTES AND INTRODUCTIONS<br> +BY WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON P<small>H</small> D</small></center> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<center>P F COLLIER & SON<br> +NEW YORK</center> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<center><small>Published under special arrangement with<br> +The Macmillan Company</small></center> +<br> +<br> +<center><small>Copyright, 1917<br> +By P. F. C<small>OLLIER</small> & S<small>ON</small></small></center> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<br> + +<p><a href="#biog">B<small>IOGRAPHICAL</small> N<small>OTE</small></a></p> + +<p>C<small>RITICISMS AND</small> I<small>NTERPRETATIONS:</small><br> + <a href="#c1">I.</a> B<small>Y</small> E<small>MILE</small> M<small>ELCHIOR</small>, V<small>ICOMTE DE</small> V<small>OGÜÉ</small><br> + <a href="#c2">II.</a> B<small>Y</small> W<small>ILLIAM</small> D<small>EAN</small> H<small>OWELLS</small><br> + <a href="#c3">III.</a> B<small>Y</small> K. W<small>ALISZEWSKI</small><br> + <a href="#c4">IV.</a> B<small>Y</small> R<small>ICHARD</small> H. P. C<small>URLE</small><br> + <a href="#c5">V.</a> B<small>Y</small> M<small>AURICE</small> B<small>ARING</small></p> + +<p><a href="#characters">L<small>IST OF</small> C<small>HARACTERS</small></a></p> +<p><a href="#title">FATHERS AND CHILDREN</a></p> +<table align="center" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10" summary="contents"> + <tr><td colspan="7" align="center">C<small>HAPTERS</small></td></tr> + <tr><td align="center"><a href="#chap1">I</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap5">V</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap9">IX</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap13">XIII</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap17">XVII</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap21">XXI</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap25">XXV</a></td></tr> + <tr><td align="center"><a href="#chap2">II</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap6">VI</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap10">X</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap14">XIV</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap18">XVIII</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap22">XXII</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap26">XXVI</a></td></tr> + <tr><td align="center"><a href="#chap3">III</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap7">VII</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap11">XI</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap15">XV</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap19">XIX</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap23">XXIII</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap27">XXVII</a></td></tr> + <tr><td align="center"><a href="#chap3">IV</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap8">VIII</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap12">XII</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap16">XVI</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap20">XX</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap24">XXIV</a></td> + <td align="center"><a href="#chap28">XXVIII</a></td></tr> +</table> +<br><a name="biog"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE</h3> +<br> + +<p>Ivan Sergyevitch Turgenev came of an old stock of the Russian nobility. +He was born in Orel, in the province of Orel, which lies more than a +hundred miles south of Moscow, on October 28, 1818. His education was +begun by tutors at home in the great family mansion in the town of +Spask, and he studied later at the universities of Moscow, St. +Petersburg, and Berlin. The influence of the last, and of the +compatriots with whom he associated there, was very great; and when he +returned to Moscow in 1841, he was ambitious to teach Hegel to the +students there. Before this could be arranged, however, he entered the +Ministry of the Interior at St. Petersburg. While there his interests +turned more and more toward literature. He wrote verses and comedies, +read George Sand, and made the acquaintance of Dostoevsky and the +critic Bielinski. His mother, a tyrannical woman with an ungovernable +temper, was eager that he should make a brilliant official career; so, +when he resigned from the Ministry in 1845, she showed her disapproval +by cutting down his allowance and thus forcing him to support himself +by the profession he had chosen.</p> + +<p>Turgenev was an enthusiastic hunter; and it was his experiences in the +woods of his native province that supplied the material for "A +Sportsman's Sketches," the book that first brought him reputation. The +first of these papers appeared in 1847, and in the same year he left +Russia in the train of Pauline Viardot, a singer and actress, to whom +he had been devoted for three or four years and with whom he maintained +relations for the rest of his life. For a year or two he lived chiefly +in Paris or at a country house at Courtavenel in Brie, which belonged +to Madame Viardot; but in 1850 he returned to Russia. His experiences +were not such as to induce him to repatriate himself permanently. He +found Dostoevsky banished to Siberia and Bielinski dead; and himself +under suspicion by the government on account of the popularity of "A +Sportsman's Sketches." For praising Gogol, who had just died, he was +arrested and imprisoned for a short time, and for the next two years +kept under police surveillance. Meantime he continued to write, and by +the time that the close of the Crimean War made it possible for him +again to go to western Europe, he was recognized as standing at the +head of living Russian authors. His mother was now dead, the estates +were settled, and with an income of about $5,000 a year he became a +wanderer. He had, or imagined he had, very bad health, and the eminent +specialists he consulted sent him from one resort to another, to Rome, +the Isle of Wight, Soden, and the like. When Madame Viardot left the +stage in 1864 and took up her residence at Baden-Baden, he followed her +and built there a small house for himself. They returned to France +after the Franco-Prussian War, and bought a villa at Bougival, near +Paris, and this was his home for the rest of his life. Here, on +September 3, 1883, he died after a long delirium due to his suffering +from cancer of the spinal cord. His body was taken to St. Petersburg +and was buried with national honors.</p> + +<p>The two works by Turgenev contained in the present volume are +characteristic in their concern with social and political questions, +and in the prominence in both of them of heroes who fail in action. +Turgenev preaches no doctrine in his novels, has no remedy for the +universe; but he sees clearly certain weaknesses of the Russian +character and exposes these with absolute candor yet without +unkindness. Much as he lived abroad, his books are intensely Russian; +yet of the great Russian novelists he alone rivals the masters of +western Europe in the matter of form. In economy of means, +condensation, felicity of language, and excellence of structure he +surpasses all his countrymen; and "Fathers and Children" and "A House +of Gentlefolk" represent his great and delicate art at its best.</p> + +<div align="right">W. A. N. </div> +<br><a name="c1"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS</h3> +<br> + +<h4>I</h4> +<center>B<small>Y</small> E<small>MILE</small> M<small>ELCHIOR</small>, V<small>ICOMTE DE</small> V<small>OGÜÉ</small></center> +<br> + +<p>Ivan Sergyevitch (Turgenev) has given us a most complete picture of +Russian society. The same general types are always brought forward; +and, as later writers have presented exactly similar ones, with but few +modifications, we are forced to believe them true to life. First, the +peasant: meek, resigned, dull, pathetic in suffering, like a child who +does not know why he suffers; naturally sharp and tricky when not +stupefied by liquor; occasionally roused to violent passion. Then, the +intelligent middle class: the small landed proprietors of two +generations. The old proprietor is ignorant and good-natured, of +respectable family, but with coarse habits; hard, from long experience +of serfdom, servile himself, but admirable in all other relations of +life.</p> + +<p>The young man of this class is of quite a different type. His +intellectual growth having been too rapid, he sometimes plunges into +Nihilism. He is often well educated, melancholy, rich in ideas but poor +in executive ability; always preparing and expecting to accomplish +something of importance, filled with vague and generous projects for +the public good. This is the chosen type of hero in all Russian novels. +Gogol introduced it, and Tolstoy prefers it above all others.</p> + +<p>The favorite hero of young girls and romantic women is neither the +brilliant officer, the artist, nor rich lord, but almost universally +this provincial Hamlet, conscientious, cultivated, intelligent, but of +feeble will, who, returning from his studies in foreign lands, is full +of scientific theories about the improvement of mankind and the good of +the lower classes, and eager to apply these theories on his own estate. +It is quite necessary that he should have an estate of his own. He will +have the hearty sympathy of the reader in his efforts to improve the +condition of his dependents.</p> + +<p>The Russians well understand the conditions of the future prosperity of +their country; but, as they themselves acknowledge, they know not how +to go to work to accomplish it.</p> + +<p>In regard to the women of this class, Turgenev, strange to say, has +little to say of the mothers. This probably reveals the existence of +some old wound, some bitter experience of his own. Without a single +exception, all the mothers in his novels are either wicked or +grotesque. He reserves the treasures of his poetic fancy for the young +girls of his creation. To him the young girl of the country province is +the corner-stone of the fabric of society. Reared in the freedom of +country life, placed in the most healthy social conditions, she is +conscientious, frank, affectionate, without being romantic; less +intelligent than man, but more resolute. In each of his romances an +irresolute man is invariably guided by a woman of strong will.</p> + +<p>Such are, generally speaking, the characters the author describes, +which bear so unmistakably the stamp of nature that one cannot refrain +from saying as he closes the book, "These must be portraits from life!" +which criticism is always the highest praise, the best sanction of +works of the imagination.—From "Turgenev", in "The Russian Novelists," +translated by J. L. Edmands (1887).</p> +<br><a name="c2"></a> +<br> +<h4>II</h4> +<center>B<small>Y</small> W<small>ILLIAM</small> D<small>EAN</small> H<small>OWELLS</small></center> +<br> +<p>Turgenev was of that great race which has more than any other fully and +freely uttered human nature, without either false pride or false shame +in its nakedness. His themes were oftenest those of the French +novelist, but how far he was from handling them in the French manner +and with the French spirit! In his hands sin suffered no dramatic +punishment; it did not always show itself as unhappiness, in the +personal sense, but it was always unrest, and without the hope of +peace. If the end did not appear, the fact that it must be miserable +always appeared. Life showed itself to me in different colors after I +had once read Turgenev; it became more serious, more awful, and with +mystical responsibilities I had not known before. My gay American +horizons were bathed in the vast melancholy of the Slav, patient, +agnostic, trustful. At the same time nature revealed herself to me +through him with an intimacy she had not hitherto shown me. There are +passages in this wonderful writer alive with a truth that seems drawn +from the reader's own knowledge: who else but Turgenev and one's own +most secret self ever felt all the rich, sad meaning of the night air +drawing in at the open window, of the fires burning in the darkness on +the distant fields? I try in vain to give some notion of the subtle +sympathy with nature which scarcely put itself into words with him. As +for the people of his fiction, though they were of orders and +civilizations so remote from my experience, they were of the eternal +human types whose origin and potentialities every one may find in his +own heart, and I felt their verity in every touch.</p> + +<p>I cannot describe the satisfaction his work gave me; I can only impart +some sense of it, perhaps, by saying that it was like a happiness I had +been waiting for all my life, and now that it had come, I was richly +content forever. I do not mean to say that the art of Turgenev +surpasses the art of Björnson; I think Björnson is quite as fine and +true. But the Norwegian deals with simple and primitive circumstances +for the most part, and always with a small world; and the Russian has +to do with human nature inside of its conventional shells, and his +scene is often as large as Europe. Even when it is as remote as Norway, +it is still related to the great capitals by the history if not the +actuality of the characters. Most of Turgenev's books I have read many +times over, all of them I have read more than twice. For a number of +years I read them again and again without much caring for other +fiction. It was only the other day that I read "Smoke" through once +more, with no diminished sense of its truth, but with somewhat less +than my first satisfaction in its art. Perhaps this was because I had +reached the point through my acquaintance with Tolstoy where I was +impatient even of the artifice that hid itself. In "Smoke" I was now +aware of an artifice that kept out of sight, but was still always +present somewhere, invisibly operating the story.—From "My Literary +Passions" (1895).</p> +<br><a name="c3"></a> +<br> +<h4>III</h4> +<center>B<small>Y</small> K. W<small>ALISZEWSKI</small></center> +<br> +<p>The second novel of the series, "Fathers and Children," stirred up a +storm the suddenness and violence of which it is not easy, nowadays, to +understand. The figure of Bazarov, the first "Nihilist"—thus baptized +by an inversion of epithet which was to win extraordinary success—is +merely intended to reveal a mental condition which, though the fact had +been insufficiently recognized, had already existed for some years. The +epithet itself had been in constant use since 1829, when Nadiéjdine +applied it to Pushkin, Polevoï, and some other subverters of the +classic tradition. Turgenev only extended its meaning by a new +interpretation, destined to be perpetuated by the tremendous success of +"Fathers and Children." There is nothing, or hardly anything, in +Bazarov, of the terrible revolutionary whom we have since learnt to +look for under this title. Turgenev was not the man to call up such a +figure. He was far too dreamy, too gentle, too good-natured a being. +Already, in the character of Roudine, he had failed, in the strangest +way, to catch the likeness of Bakounine, that fiery organiser of +insurrection, whom all Europe knew, and whom he had selected as his +model. Conceive Corot or Millet trying to paint some figure out of the +Last Judgment after Michael Angelo! Bazarov is the Nihilist in his +first phase, "in course of becoming," as the Germans would say, and he +is a pupil of the German universities. When Turgenev shaped the +character, he certainly drew on his own memories of his stay at Berlin, +at a time when Bruno Bauer was laying it down as a dogma that no +educated man ought to have opinions on any subject, and when Max +Stirner was convincing the young Hegelians that ideas were mere smoke +and dust, seeing that the only reality in existence was the individual +<i>Ego</i>. These teachings, eagerly received by the Russian youth, were +destined to produce a state of moral decomposition, the earliest +symptoms of which were admirably analysed by Turgenev.</p> + +<p>Bazarov is a very clever man, but clever in thought, and especially in +word, only. He scorns art, women, and family life. He does not know +what the point of honour means. He is a cynic in his love affairs, and +indifferent in his friendships. He has no respect even for paternal +tenderness, but he is full of contradictions, even to the extent of +fighting a duel about nothing at all, and sacrificing his life for the +first peasant he meets. And in this the resemblance is true, much more +general, indeed, than the model selected would lead one to imagine; so +general, in fact, that, apart from the question of art, Turgenev—he +has admitted it himself—felt as if he were drawing his own portrait; +and therefore it is, no doubt, that he has made his hero so +sympathetic.—From "A History of Russian Literature" (1900).</p> +<br><a name="c4"></a> +<br> +<h4>IV</h4> +<center>B<small>Y</small> R<small>ICHARD</small> H. P. C<small>URLE</small></center> +<br> +<p>But for the best expression of the bewilderment of life we have to turn +to the portrait of a man, to the famous Bazarov of "Fathers and +Children." Turgenev raises through him the eternal problem—Has +personality any hold, has life any meaning at all? The reality of this +figure, his contempt for nature, his egoism, his strength, his mothlike +weakness are so convincing that before his philosophy all other +philosophies seem to pale. He is the one who sees the life-illusion, +and yet, knowing that it is the mask of night, grasps at it, loathing +himself. You can hate Bazarov, you cannot have contempt for him. He is +a man of genius, rid of sentiment and hope, believing in nothing but +himself, to whom come, as from the darkness, all the violent questions +of life and death. "Fathers and Children" is simply an exposure of our +power to mould our own lives. Bazarov is a man of astonishing +intellect—he is the pawn of an emotion he despises; he is a man of +gigantic will—he can do nothing but destroy his own beliefs; he is a +man of intense life—he cannot avoid the first, brainless touch of +death. It is the hopeless fight of mind against instinct, of +determination against fate, of personality against impersonality. +Bazarov disdaining everyone, sick of all smallness, is roused to fury +by the obvious irritations of Pavel Petrovitch. Savagely announcing the +creed of nihilism and the end of romance, he has only to feel the calm, +aristocratic smile of Madame Odintsov fixed on him and he suffers all +the agony of first love. Determining to live and create, he has only to +play with death for a moment, and he is caught. But though he is the +most positive of all Turgenev's male portraits, there are others +linking up the chain of delusion. There is Rudin, typical of the unrest +of the idealist; there is Nezhdanov ("Virgin Soil"), typical of the +self-torture of the anarchist. There is Shubin ("On the Eve"), hiding +his misery in laughter, and Lavretsky ("A House of Gentlefolk"), hiding +his misery in silence. It is not necessary to search for further +examples. Turgenev put his hand upon the dark things. He perceived +character, struggling in the "clutch of circumstances," the tragic +moments, the horrible conflicts of personality. His figures have that +capability of suffering which (as someone has said) is the true sign of +life. They seem like real people, dazed and uncertain. No action of +theirs ever surprises you, because in each of them he has made you hear +an inward soliloquy.—From "Turgenev and the Life-Illusion," in "The +Fortnightly Review" (April, 1910).</p> +<br><a name="c5"></a> +<br> +<h4>V</h4> +<center>B<small>Y</small> M<small>AURICE</small> B<small>ARING</small></center> +<br> +<p>Turgenev did for Russian literature what Byron did for English +literature; he led the genius of Russia on a pilgrimage throughout all +Europe. And in Europe his work reaped a glorious harvest of praise. +Flaubert was astounded by him, George Sand looked up to him as to a +master, Taine spoke of his work as being the finest artistic production +since Sophocles. In Turgenev's work, Europe not only discovered +Turgenev, but it discovered Russia, the simplicity and the naturalness +of the Russian character; and this came as a revelation. For the first +time Europe came across the Russian woman whom Pushkin was the first to +paint; for the first time Europe came into contact with the Russian +soul; and it was the sharpness of this revelation which accounts for +the fact of Turgenev having received in the west an even greater meed +of praise than he was perhaps entitled to.</p> + +<p>In Russia Turgenev attained almost instant popularity. His "Sportsman's +Sketches" and his "Nest of Gentlefolk" made him not only famous but +universally popular. In 1862 the publication of his masterpiece +"Fathers and Children" dealt his reputation a blow. The revolutionary +elements in Russia regarded his hero, Bazarov, as a calumny and a +libel; whereas the reactionary elements in Russia looked upon "Fathers +and Children" as a glorification of Nihilism. Thus he satisfied nobody. +He fell between two stools. This, perhaps, could only happen in Russia +to this extent; and for that same reason as that which made Russian +criticism didactic. The conflicting elements of Russian society were so +terribly in earnest in fighting their cause, that anyone whom they did +not regard as definitely for them was at once considered an enemy, and +an impartial delineation of any character concerned in the political +struggle was bound to displease both parties. If a novelist drew a +Nihilist, he must be one or the other, a hero or a scoundrel, if either +the revolutionaries or the reactionaries were to be pleased. If in +England the militant suffragists suddenly had a huge mass of educated +opinion behind them and a still larger mass of educated public opinion +against them, and some one were to draw in a novel an impartial picture +of a suffragette, the same thing would happen. On a small scale, as far +as the suffragettes are concerned, it has happened in the case of Mr. +Wells. But if Turgenev's popularity suffered a shock in Russia from +which it with difficulty recovered, in western Europe it went on +increasing. Especially in England, Turgenev became the idol of all that +was eclectic, and admiration for Turgenev a hallmark of good taste....</p> + +<p>"Fathers and Children" is as beautifully constructed as a drama of +Sophocles; the events move inevitably to a tragic close. There is not a +touch of banality from beginning to end, and not an unnecessary word; +the portraits of the old father and mother, the young Kirsanov, and all +the minor characters are perfect; and amidst the trivial crowd Bazarov +stands out like Lucifer, the strongest—the only strong character—that +Turgenev created, the first Nihilist—for if Turgenev was not the first +to invent the word, he was the first to apply it in this sense.</p> + +<p>Bazarov is the incarnation of the Lucifer type that recurs again and +again in Russian history and fiction, in sharp contrast to the meek, +humble type of Ivan Durak. Lermontov's Pechorin was in some respects an +anticipation of Bazarov; so were the many Russian rebels. He is the man +who denies, to whom art is a silly toy, who detests abstractions, +knowledge, and the love of Nature; he believes in nothing; he bows to +nothing; he can break, but he cannot bend; he does break, and that is +the tragedy, but, breaking, he retains his invincible pride, and</p> + +<center><small>"not cowardly puts off his helmet,"</small></center> + +<p>and he dies "valiantly vanquished."</p> + +<p>In the pages which describe his death Turgenev reaches the high-water +mark of his art, his moving quality, his power, his reserve. For manly +pathos they rank among the greatest scenes in literature, stronger than +the death of Colonel Newcome and the best of Thackeray. Among English +novelists it is, perhaps, only Meredith who has struck such strong, +piercing chords, nobler than anything in Daudet or Maupassant, more +reserved than anything in Victor Hugo, and worthy of the great poets, +of the tragic pathos of Goethe and Dante. The character of Bazarov, as +has been said, created a sensation and endless controversy. The +revolutionaries thought him a caricature and a libel, the reactionaries +a scandalous glorification of the Devil; and impartial men such as +Dostoevsky, who knew the revolutionaries at first hand, thought the +type unreal. It is impossible that Bazarov was not like the Nihilists +of the sixties; but in any case as a figure in fiction, whatever the +fact may be, he lives and will continue to live....—From "An Outline +of Russian Literature" (1914).</p> +<br><a name="characters"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>LIST OF CHARACTERS</h3> +<br> + +<p>N<small>IKOLAI</small> P<small>ETROVITCH</small> K<small>IRSANOV</small>, a landowner.</p> + +<p>P<small>AVEL</small> P<small>ETROVITCH</small> K<small>IRSANOV</small>, his brother.</p> + +<p>A<small>RKADY</small> (A<small>RKASHA</small>) N<small>IKOLAEVITCH</small> (<i>or</i> N<small>IKOLAITCH</small>), his son.</p> + +<p>Y<small>EVGENY</small> (E<small>NYUSHA</small>) V<small>ASSILYEVITCH</small> (<i>or</i> V<small>ASSILYITCH</small>) B<small>AZAROV</small>, friend of +Arkady.</p> + +<p>V<small>ASSILY</small> I<small>VANOVITCH</small> (<i>or</i> I<small>VANITCH</small>), father of Bazarov.</p> + +<p>A<small>RINA</small> V<small>LASYEVNA</small>, mother of Bazarov.</p> + +<p>F<small>EDOSYA</small> (F<small>ENITCHKA</small>) N<small>IKOLAEVNA</small>, second wife of Nikolai.</p> + +<p>A<small>NNA</small> S<small>ERGYEVNA</small> O<small>DINTSOV</small>, a wealthy widow.</p> + +<p>K<small>ATYA</small> S<small>ERGYEVNA</small>, her sister.</p> + +<p>P<small>ORFIRY</small> P<small>LATONITCH</small>, her neighbor.</p> + +<p>M<small>ATVY</small> I<small>LYITCH</small> K<small>OLYAZIN</small>, government commissioner.</p> + +<p>E<small>VDOKSYA</small> (<i>or</i> A<small>VDOTYA</small>) N<small>IKITISHNA</small> K<small>UKSHIN</small>, an emancipated lady.</p> + +<p>V<small>IKTOR</small> S<small>ITNIKOV</small>, a would-be liberal.</p> + +<p>P<small>IOTR</small> (<i>pron. P-yotr</i>), servant to Nikolai.</p> + +<p>P<small>ROKOFITCH</small>, head servant to Nikolai.</p> + +<p>D<small>UNYASHA</small>, a maid servant.</p> + +<p>M<small>ITYA</small>, infant of Fedosya.</p> + +<p>T<small>IMOFEITCH</small>, manager for Vassily.</p> +<br><a name="title"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>FATHERS AND CHILDREN</h2> +<h4>A NOVEL</h4> +<hr align="center" width="60"> +<br><a name="chap1"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER I</h4> +<br> + +<p>'Well, Piotr, not in sight yet?' was the question asked on May the +20th, 1859, by a gentleman of a little over forty, in a dusty coat and +checked trousers, who came out without his hat on to the low steps of +the posting station at S——. He was addressing his servant, a chubby +young fellow, with whitish down on his chin, and little, lack-lustre +eyes.</p> + +<p>The servant, in whom everything—the turquoise ring in his ear, the +streaky hair plastered with grease, and the civility of his +movements—indicated a man of the new, improved generation, glanced +with an air of indulgence along the road, and made answer:</p> + +<p>'No, sir; not in sight.'</p> + +<p>'Not in sight?' repeated his master.</p> + +<p>'No, sir,' responded the man a second time.</p> + +<p>His master sighed, and sat down on a little bench. We will introduce +him to the reader while he sits, his feet tucked under him, gazing +thoughtfully round.</p> + +<p>His name was Nikolai Petrovitch Kirsanov. He had, twelve miles from the +posting station, a fine property of two hundred souls, or, as he +expressed it—since he had arranged the division of his land with the +peasants, and started 'a farm'—of nearly five thousand acres. His +father, a general in the army, who served in 1812, a coarse, +half-educated, but not ill-natured man, a typical Russian, had been in +harness all his life, first in command of a brigade, and then of a +division, and lived constantly in the provinces, where, by virtue of +his rank, he played a fairly important part. Nikolai Petrovitch was +born in the south of Russia like his elder brother, Pavel, of whom more +hereafter. He was educated at home till he was fourteen, surrounded by +cheap tutors, free-and-easy but toadying adjutants, and all the usual +regimental and staff set. His mother, one of the Kolyazin family, as a +girl called Agathe, but as a general's wife Agathokleya Kuzminishna +Kirsanov, was one of those military ladies who take their full share of +the duties and dignities of office. She wore gorgeous caps and rustling +silk dresses; in church she was the first to advance to the cross; she +talked a great deal in a loud voice, let her children kiss her hand in +the morning, and gave them her blessing at night—in fact, she got +everything out of life she could. Nikolai Petrovitch, as a general's +son—though so far from being distinguished by courage that he even +deserved to be called 'a funk'—was intended, like his brother Pavel, +to enter the army; but he broke his leg on the very day when the news +of his commission came, and, after being two months in bed, retained a +slight limp to the end of his days. His father gave him up as a bad +job, and let him go into the civil service. He took him to Petersburg +directly he was eighteen, and placed him in the university. His brother +happened about the same time to be made an officer in the Guards. The +young men started living together in one set of rooms, under the remote +supervision of a cousin on their mother's side, Ilya Kolyazin, an +official of high rank. Their father returned to his division and his +wife, and only rarely sent his sons large sheets of grey paper, +scrawled over in a bold clerkly hand. At the bottom of these sheets +stood in letters, enclosed carefully in scroll-work, the words, 'Piotr +Kirsanov, General-Major.' In 1835 Nikolai Petrovitch left the +university, a graduate, and in the same year General Kirsanov was put +on to the retired list after an unsuccessful review, and came to +Petersburg with his wife to live. He was about to take a house in the +Tavrichesky Gardens, and had joined the English club, but he died +suddenly of an apoplectic fit. Agathokleya Kuzminishna soon followed +him; she could not accustom herself to a dull life in the capital; she +was consumed by the ennui of existence away from the regiment. +Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch had already, in his parents' lifetime and +to their no slight chagrin, had time to fall in love with the daughter +of his landlord, a petty official, Prepolovensky. She was a pretty and, +as it is called, 'advanced' girl; she used to read the serious articles +in the 'Science' column of the journals. He married her directly the +term of mourning was over; and leaving the civil service in which his +father had by favour procured him a post, was perfectly blissful with +his Masha, first in a country villa near the Lyesny Institute, +afterwards in town in a pretty little flat with a clean staircase and a +draughty drawing-room, and then in the country, where he settled +finally, and where in a short time a son, Arkady, was born to him. The +young couple lived very happily and peacefully; they were scarcely ever +apart; they read together, sang and played duets together on the piano; +she tended her flowers and looked after the poultry-yard; he sometimes +went hunting, and busied himself with the estate, while Arkady grew and +grew in the same happy and peaceful way. Ten years passed like a dream. +In 1847 Kirsanov's wife died. He almost succumbed to this blow; in a +few weeks his hair was grey; he was getting ready to go abroad, if +possible to distract his mind ... but then came the year 1848. He +returned unwillingly to the country, and, after a rather prolonged +period of inactivity, began to take an interest in improvements in the +management of his land. In 1855 he brought his son to the university; +he spent three winters with him in Petersburg, hardly going out +anywhere, and trying to make acquaintance with Arkady's young +companions. The last winter he had not been able to go, and here we +have him in the May of 1859, already quite grey, stoutish, and rather +bent, waiting for his son, who had just taken his degree, as once he +had taken it himself.</p> + +<p>The servant, from a feeling of propriety, and perhaps, too, not anxious +to remain under the master's eye, had gone to the gate, and was smoking +a pipe. Nikolai Petrovitch bent his head, and began staring at the +crumbling steps; a big mottled fowl walked sedately towards him, +treading firmly with its great yellow legs; a muddy cat gave him an +unfriendly look, twisting herself coyly round the railing. The sun was +scorching; from the half-dark passage of the posting station came an +odour of hot rye-bread. Nikolai Petrovitch fell to dreaming. 'My son +... a graduate ... Arkasha ...' were the ideas that continually came +round again and again in his head; he tried to think of something else, +and again the same thoughts returned. He remembered his dead wife.... +'She did not live to see it!' he murmured sadly. A plump, dark-blue +pigeon flew into the road, and hurriedly went to drink in a puddle near +the well. Nikolai Petrovitch began looking at it, but his ear had +already caught the sound of approaching wheels.</p> + +<p>'It sounds as if they're coming sir,' announced the servant, popping in +from the gateway.</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch jumped up, and bent his eyes on the road. A carriage +appeared with three posting-horses harnessed abreast; in the carriage +he caught a glimpse of the blue band of a student's cap, the familiar +outline of a dear face.</p> + +<p>'Arkasha! Arkasha!' cried Kirsanov, and he ran waving his hands.... A +few instants later, his lips were pressed to the beardless, dusty, +sunburnt-cheek of the youthful graduate.</p> +<br><a name="chap2"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER II</h4> +<br> + +<p>'Let me shake myself first, daddy,' said Arkady, in a voice tired from +travelling, but boyish and clear as a bell, as he gaily responded to +his father's caresses; 'I am covering you with dust.'</p> + +<p>'Never mind, never mind,' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, smiling +tenderly, and twice he struck the collar of his son's cloak and his own +greatcoat with his hand. 'Let me have a look at you; let me have a look +at you,' he added, moving back from him, but immediately he went with +hurried steps towards the yard of the station, calling, 'This way, this +way; and horses at once.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch seemed far more excited than his son; he seemed a +little confused, a little timid. Arkady stopped him.</p> + +<p>'Daddy,' he said, 'let me introduce you to my great friend, Bazarov, +about whom I have so often written to you. He has been so good as to +promise to stay with us.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch went back quickly, and going up to a tall man in a +long, loose, rough coat with tassels, who had only just got out of the +carriage, he warmly pressed the ungloved red hand, which the latter did +not at once hold out to him.</p> + +<p>'I am heartily glad,' he began, 'and very grateful for your kind +intention of visiting us.... Let me know your name, and your father's.'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyev,' answered Bazarov, in a lazy but manly voice; and +turning back the collar of his rough coat, he showed Nikolai Petrovitch +his whole face. It was long and lean, with a broad forehead, a nose +flat at the base and sharper at the end, large greenish eyes, and +drooping whiskers of a sandy colour; it was lighted up by a tranquil +smile, and showed self-confidence and intelligence.</p> + +<p>'I hope, dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch, you won't be dull with us,' +continued Nikolai Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>Bazarov's thin lips moved just perceptibly, though he made no reply, +but merely took off his cap. His long, thick hair did not hide the +prominent bumps on his head.</p> + +<p>'Then, Arkady,' Nikolai Petrovitch began again, turning to his son, +'shall the horses be put to at once? or would you like to rest?'</p> + +<p>'We will rest at home, daddy; tell them to harness the horses.'</p> + +<p>'At once, at once,' his father assented. 'Hey, Piotr, do you hear? Get +things ready, my good boy; look sharp.'</p> + +<p>Piotr, who as a modernised servant had not kissed the young master's +hand, but only bowed to him from a distance, again vanished through the +gateway.</p> + +<p>'I came here with the carriage, but there are three horses for your +coach too,' said Nikolai Petrovitch fussily, while Arkady drank some +water from an iron dipper brought him by the woman in charge of the +station, and Bazarov began smoking a pipe and went up to the driver, +who was taking out the horses; 'there are only two seats in the +carriage, and I don't know how your friend' ...</p> + +<p>'He will go in the coach,' interposed Arkady in an undertone. 'You must +not stand on ceremony with him, please. He's a splendid fellow, so +simple—you will see.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch's coachman brought the horses round.</p> + +<p>'Come, hurry up, bushy beard!' said Bazarov, addressing the driver.</p> + +<p>'Do you hear, Mityuha,' put in another driver, standing by with his +hands thrust behind him into the opening of his sheepskin coat, 'what +the gentleman called you? It's a bushy beard you are too.'</p> + +<p>Mityuha only gave a jog to his hat and pulled the reins off the heated +shaft-horse.</p> + +<p>'Look sharp, look sharp, lads, lend a hand,' cried Nikolai Petrovitch; +'there'll be something to drink our health with!'</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the horses were harnessed; the father and son were +installed in the carriage; Piotr climbed up on to the box; Bazarov +jumped into the coach, and nestled his head down into the leather +cushion; and both the vehicles rolled away.</p> +<br><a name="chap3"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER III</h4> +<br> + +<p>'So here you are, a graduate at last, and come home again,' said +Nikolai Petrovitch, touching Arkady now on the shoulder, now on the +knee. 'At last!'</p> + +<p>'And how is uncle? quite well?' asked Arkady, who, in spite of the +genuine, almost childish delight filling his heart, wanted as soon as +possible to turn the conversation from the emotional into a commonplace +channel.</p> + +<p>'Quite well. He was thinking of coming with me to meet you, but for +some reason or other he gave up the idea.'</p> + +<p>'And how long have you been waiting for me?' inquired Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Oh, about five hours.'</p> + +<p>'Dear old dad!'</p> + +<p>Arkady turned round quickly to his father, and gave him a sounding kiss +on the cheek. Nikolai Petrovitch gave vent to a low chuckle.</p> + +<p>'I have got such a capital horse for you!' he began. 'You will see. And +your room has been fresh papered.'</p> + +<p>'And is there a room for Bazarov?'</p> + +<p>'We will find one for him too.'</p> + +<p>'Please, dad, make much of him. I can't tell you how I prize his +friendship.'</p> + +<p>'Have you made friends with him lately?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, quite lately.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, that's how it is I did not see him last winter. What does he +study?'</p> + +<p>'His chief subject is natural science. But he knows everything. Next +year he wants to take his doctor's degree.'</p> + +<p>'Ah! he's in the medical faculty,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, and he +was silent for a little. 'Piotr,' he went on, stretching out his hand, +'aren't those our peasants driving along?'</p> + +<p>Piotr looked where his master was pointing. Some carts harnessed with +unbridled horses were moving rapidly along a narrow by-road. In each +cart there were one or two peasants in sheepskin coats, unbuttoned.</p> + +<p>'Yes, sir,' replied Piotr.</p> + +<p>'Where are they going,—to the town?'</p> + +<p>'To the town, I suppose. To the gin-shop,' he added contemptuously, +turning slightly towards the coachman, as though he would appeal to +him. But the latter did not stir a muscle; he was a man of the old +stamp, and did not share the modern views of the younger generation.</p> + +<p>'I have had a lot of bother with the peasants this year,' pursued +Nikolai Petrovitch, turning to his son. 'They won't pay their rent. +What is one to do?'</p> + +<p>'But do you like your hired labourers?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Nikolai Petrovitch between his teeth. 'They're being set +against me, that's the mischief; and they don't do their best. They +spoil the tools. But they have tilled the land pretty fairly. When +things have settled down a bit, it will be all right. Do you take an +interest in farming now?'</p> + +<p>'You've no shade; that's a pity,' remarked Arkady, without answering +the last question.</p> + +<p>'I have had a great awning put up on the north side over the balcony,' +observed Nikolai Petrovitch; 'now we can have dinner even in the open +air.'</p> + +<p>'It'll be rather too like a summer villa.... Still, that's all +nonsense. What air though here! How delicious it smells! Really I fancy +there's nowhere such fragrance in the world as in the meadows here! And +the sky too.'</p> + +<p>Arkady suddenly stopped short, cast a stealthy look behind him, and +said no more.</p> + +<p>'Of course,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'you were born here, and so +everything is bound to strike you in a special——'</p> + +<p>'Come, dad, that makes no difference where a man is born.'</p> + +<p>'Still——'</p> + +<p>'No; it makes absolutely no difference.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch gave a sidelong glance at his son, and the carriage +went on a half-a-mile further before the conversation was renewed +between them.</p> + +<p>'I don't recollect whether I wrote to you,' began Nikolai Petrovitch, +'your old nurse, Yegorovna, is dead.'</p> + +<p>'Really? Poor thing! Is Prokofitch still living?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, and not a bit changed. As grumbling as ever. In fact, you won't +find many changes at Maryino.'</p> + +<p>'Have you still the same bailiff?'</p> + +<p>'Well, to be sure there is a change there. I decided not to keep about +me any freed serfs, who have been house servants, or, at least, not to +intrust them with duties of any responsibility.' (Arkady glanced +towards Piotr.) <i>'Il est libre, en effet,'</i> observed Nikolai Petrovitch +in an undertone; 'but, you see, he's only a valet. Now I have a +bailiff, a townsman; he seems a practical fellow. I pay him two hundred +and fifty roubles a year. But,' added Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing his +forehead and eyebrows with his hand, which was always an indication +with him of inward embarrassment, 'I told you just now that you would +not find changes at Maryino.... That's not quite correct. I think it my +duty to prepare you, though....'</p> + +<p>He hesitated for an instant, and then went on in French.</p> + +<p>'A severe moralist would regard my openness, as improper; but, in the +first place, it can't be concealed, and secondly, you are aware I have +always had peculiar ideas as regards the relation of father and son. +Though, of course, you would be right in blaming me. At my age.... In +short ... that ... that girl, about whom you have probably heard +already ...'</p> + +<p>'Fenitchka?' asked Arkady easily.</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch blushed. 'Don't mention her name aloud, please.... +Well ... she is living with me now. I have installed her in the house +... there were two little rooms there. But that can all be changed.'</p> + +<p>'Goodness, daddy, what for?'</p> + +<p>'Your friend is going to stay with us ... it would be awkward ...'</p> + +<p>'Please don't be uneasy on Bazarov's account. He's above all that.'</p> + +<p>'Well, but you too,' added Nikolai Petrovitch. 'The little lodge is so +horrid—that's the worst of it.'</p> + +<p>'Goodness, dad,' interposed Arkady, 'it's as if you were apologising; I +wonder you're not ashamed.'</p> + +<p>'Of course, I ought to be ashamed,' answered Nikolai Petrovitch, +flushing more and more.</p> + +<p>'Nonsense, dad, nonsense; please don't!' Arkady smiled affectionately. +'What a thing to apologise for!' he thought to himself, and his heart +was filled with a feeling of condescending tenderness for his kind, +soft-hearted father, mixed with a sense of secret superiority. 'Please, +stop,' he repeated once more, instinctively revelling in a +consciousness of his own advanced and emancipated condition.</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch glanced at him from under the fingers of the hand +with which he was still rubbing his forehead, and there was a pang in +his heart.... But at once he blamed himself for it.</p> + +<p>'Here are our meadows at last,' he said after a long silence.</p> + +<p>'And that in front is our forest, isn't it?' asked Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Yes. Only I have sold the timber. This year they will cut it down.'</p> + +<p>'Why did you sell it?'</p> + +<p>'The money was needed; besides, that land is to go to the peasants.'</p> + +<p>'Who don't pay you their rent?'</p> + +<p>'That's their affair; besides, they will pay it some day.'</p> + +<p>'I am sorry about the forest,' observed Arkady, and he began to look +about him.</p> + +<p>The country through which they were driving could not be called +picturesque. Fields upon fields stretched all along to the very +horizon, now sloping gently upwards, then dropping down again; in some +places woods were to be seen, and winding ravines, planted with low, +scanty bushes, recalling vividly the representation of them on the +old-fashioned maps of the times of Catherine. They came upon little +streams too with hollow banks; and tiny lakes with narrow dykes; and +little villages, with low hovels under dark and often tumble-down +roofs, and slanting barns with walls woven of brushwood and gaping +doorways beside neglected threshing-floors; and churches, some +brick-built, with stucco peeling off in patches, others wooden, with +crosses fallen askew, and overgrown grave-yards. Slowly Arkady's heart +sunk. To complete the picture, the peasants they met were all in +tatters and on the sorriest little nags; the willows, with their trunks +stripped of bark, and broken branches, stood like ragged beggars along +the roadside; cows lean and shaggy and looking pinched up by hunger, +were greedily tearing at the grass along the ditches. They looked as +though they had just been snatched out of the murderous clutches of +some threatening monster; and the piteous state of the weak, starved +beasts in the midst of the lovely spring day, called up, like a white +phantom, the endless, comfortless winter with its storms, and frosts, +and snows.... 'No,' thought Arkady, 'this is not a rich country; it +does not impress one by plenty or industry; it can't, it can't go on +like this, reforms are absolutely necessary ... but how is one to carry +them out, how is one to begin?'</p> + +<p>Such were Arkady's reflections; ... but even as he reflected, the +spring regained its sway. All around was golden green, all—trees, +bushes, grass—shone and stirred gently in wide waves under the soft +breath of the warm wind; from all sides flooded the endless trilling +music of the larks; the peewits were calling as they hovered over the +low-lying meadows, or noiselessly ran over the tussocks of grass; the +rooks strutted among the half-grown short spring-corn, standing out +black against its tender green; they disappeared in the already +whitening rye, only from time to time their heads peeped out amid its +grey waves. Arkady gazed and gazed, and his reflections grew slowly +fainter and passed away.... He flung off his cloak and turned to his +father, with a face so bright and boyish, that the latter gave him +another hug.</p> + +<p>'We're not far off now,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'we have only to +get up this hill, and the house will be in sight. We shall get on +together splendidly, Arkasha; you shall help me in farming the estate, +if only it isn't a bore to you. We must draw close to one another now, +and learn to know each other thoroughly, mustn't we!'</p> + +<p>'Of course,' said Arkady; 'but what an exquisite day it is to-day!'</p> + +<p>'To welcome you, my dear boy. Yes, it's spring in its full loveliness. +Though I agree with Pushkin—do you remember in Yevgeny Onyegin—</p> + +<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem1"> + <tr><td><small>'To me how sad thy coming is,<br> + Spring, spring, sweet time of love!<br> + What ...'</small></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>'Arkady!' called Bazarov's voice from the coach, 'send me a match; I've +nothing to light my pipe with.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch stopped, while Arkady, who had begun listening to +him with some surprise, though with sympathy too, made haste to pull a +silver matchbox out of his pocket, and sent it to Bazarov by Piotr.</p> + +<p>'Will you have a cigar?' shouted Bazarov again.</p> + +<p>'Thanks,' answered Arkady.</p> + +<p>Piotr returned to the carriage, and handed him with the match-box a +thick black cigar, which Arkady began to smoke promptly, diffusing +about him such a strong and pungent odour of cheap tobacco, that +Nikolai Petrovitch, who had never been a smoker from his youth up, was +forced to turn away his head, as imperceptibly as he could for fear of +wounding his son.</p> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later, the two carriages drew up before the steps +of a new wooden house, painted grey, with a red iron roof. This was +Maryino, also known as New-Wick, or, as the peasants had nicknamed it, +Poverty Farm.</p> +<br><a name="chap4"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER IV</h4> +<br> + +<p>No crowd of house-serfs ran out on to the steps to meet the gentlemen; +a little girl of twelve years old made her appearance alone. After her +there came out of the house a young lad, very like Piotr, dressed in a +coat of grey livery, with white armorial buttons, the servant of Pavel +Petrovitch Kirsanov. Without speaking, he opened the door of the +carriage, and unbuttoned the apron of the coach. Nikolai Petrovitch +with his son and Bazarov walked through a dark and almost empty hall, +from behind the door of which they caught a glimpse of a young woman's +face, into a drawing-room furnished in the most modern style.</p> + +<p>'Here we are at home,' said Nikolai Petrovitch, taking off his cap, and +shaking back his hair. 'That's the great thing; now we must have supper +and rest.'</p> + +<p>'A meal would not come amiss, certainly,' observed Bazarov, stretching, +and he dropped on to a sofa.</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes, let us have supper, supper directly.' Nikolai Petrovitch +with no apparent reason stamped his foot. 'And here just at the right +moment comes Prokofitch.'</p> + +<p>A man about sixty entered, white-haired, thin, and swarthy, in a +cinnamon-coloured dress-coat with brass buttons, and a pink +neckerchief. He smirked, went up to kiss Arkady's hand, and bowing to +the guest retreated to the door, and put his hands behind him.</p> + +<p>'Here he is, Prokofitch,' began Nikolai Petrovitch; 'he's come back to +us at last.... Well, how do you think him looking?'</p> + +<p>'As well as could be,' said the old man, and was grinning again, but he +quickly knitted his bushy brows. 'You wish supper to be served?' he +said impressively.</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes, please. But won't you like to go to your room first, Yevgeny +Vassilyitch?'</p> + +<p>'No, thanks; I don't care about it. Only give orders for my little box +to be taken there, and this garment, too,' he added, taking off his +frieze overcoat.</p> + +<p>'Certainly. Prokofitch, take the gentleman's coat.' (Prokofitch, with +an air of perplexity, picked up Bazarov's 'garment' in both hands, and +holding it high above his head, retreated on tiptoe.) 'And you, Arkady, +are you going to your room for a minute?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I must wash,' answered Arkady, and was just moving towards the +door, but at that instant there came into the drawing-room a man of +medium height, dressed in a dark English suit, a fashionable low +cravat, and kid shoes, Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov. He looked about +forty-five: his close-cropped, grey hair shone with a dark lustre, like +new silver; his face, yellow but free from wrinkles, was exceptionally +regular and pure in line, as though carved by a light and delicate +chisel, and showed traces of remarkable beauty; specially fine were his +clear, black, almond-shaped eyes. The whole person of Arkady's uncle, +with its aristocratic elegance, had preserved the gracefulness of youth +and that air of striving upwards, away from earth, which for the most +part is lost after the twenties are past.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch took out of his trouser pocket his exquisite hand with +its long tapering pink nails, a hand which seemed still more exquisite +from the snowy whiteness of the cuff, buttoned with a single, big opal, +and gave it to his nephew. After a preliminary handshake in the +European style, he kissed him thrice after the Russian fashion, that is +to say, he touched his cheek three times with his perfumed moustaches, +and said, 'Welcome.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch presented him to Bazarov; Pavel Petrovitch greeted +him with a slight inclination of his supple figure, and a slight smile, +but he did not give him his hand, and even put it back into his pocket.</p> + +<p>'I had begun to think you were not coming to-day,' he began in a +musical voice, with a genial swing and shrug of the shoulders, as he +showed his splendid white teeth. 'Did anything happen on the road.'</p> + +<p>'Nothing happened,' answered Arkady; 'we were rather slow. But we're as +hungry as wolves now. Hurry up Prokofitch, dad; and I'll be back +directly.'</p> + +<p>'Stay, I'm coming with you,' cried Bazarov, pulling himself up suddenly +from the sofa. Both the young men went out.</p> + +<p>'Who is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'A friend of Arkasha's; according to him, a very clever fellow.'</p> + +<p>'Is he going to stay with us?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'That unkempt creature?'</p> + +<p>'Why, yes.'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch drummed with his finger tips on the table. 'I fancy +Arkady <i>s'est dégourdi,'</i> he remarked. 'I'm glad he has come back.'</p> + +<p>At supper there was little conversation. Bazarov especially said +nothing, but he ate a great deal. Nikolai Petrovitch related various +incidents in what he called his career as a farmer, talked about the +impending government measures, about committees, deputations, the +necessity of introducing machinery, etc. Pavel Petrovitch paced slowly +up and down the dining-room (he never ate supper), sometimes sipping at +a wineglass of red wine, and less often uttering some remark or rather +exclamation, of the nature of 'Ah! aha! hm!' Arkady told some news from +Petersburg, but he was conscious of a little awkwardness, that +awkwardness, which usually overtakes a youth when he has just ceased to +be a child, and has come back to a place where they are accustomed to +regard him and treat him as a child. He made his sentences quite +unnecessarily long, avoided the word 'daddy,' and even sometimes +replaced it by the word 'father,' mumbled, it is true, between his +teeth; with an exaggerated carelessness he poured into his glass far +more wine than he really wanted, and drank it all off. Prokofitch did +not take his eyes off him, and kept chewing his lips. After supper they +all separated at once.</p> + +<p>'Your uncle's a queer fish,' Bazarov said to Arkady, as he sat in his +dressing-gown by his bedside, smoking a short pipe. 'Only fancy such +style in the country! His nails, his nails—you ought to send them to +an exhibition!'</p> + +<p>'Why of course, you don't know,' replied Arkady. 'He was a great swell +in his own day, you know. I will tell you his story one day. He was +very handsome, you know, used to turn all the women's heads.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, that's it, is it? So he keeps it up in memory of the past. It's a +pity there's no one for him to fascinate here though. I kept staring at +his exquisite collars. They're like marble, and his chin's shaved +simply to perfection. Come, Arkady Nikolaitch, isn't that ridiculous?'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps it is; but he's a splendid man, really.'</p> + +<p>'An antique survival! But your father's a capital fellow. He wastes his +time reading poetry, and doesn't know much about farming, but he's a +good-hearted fellow.'</p> + +<p>'My father's a man in a thousand.'</p> + +<p>'Did you notice how shy and nervous he is?'</p> + +<p>Arkady shook his head as though he himself were not shy and nervous.</p> + +<p>'It's something astonishing,' pursued Bazarov, 'these old idealists, +they develop their nervous systems till they break down ... so balance +is lost. But good-night. In my room there's an English washstand, but +the door won't fasten. Anyway that ought to be encouraged—an English +washstand stands for progress!'</p> + +<p>Bazarov went away, and a sense of great happiness came over Arkady. +Sweet it is to fall asleep in one's own home, in the familiar bed, +under the quilt worked by loving hands, perhaps a dear nurse's hands, +those kind, tender, untiring hands. Arkady remembered Yegorovna, and +sighed and wished her peace in heaven.... For himself he made no +prayer.</p> + +<p>Both he and Bazarov were soon asleep, but others in the house were +awake long after. His son's return had agitated Nikolai Petrovitch. He +lay down in bed, but did not put out the candles, and his head propped +on his hand, he fell into long reveries. His brother was sitting long +after midnight in his study, in a wide armchair before the fireplace, +on which there smouldered some faintly glowing embers. Pavel Petrovitch +was not undressed, only some red Chinese slippers had replaced the kid +shoes on his feet. He held in his hand the last number of <i>Galignani</i>, +but he was not reading; he gazed fixedly into the grate, where a bluish +flame flickered, dying down, then flaring up again.... God knows where +his thoughts were rambling, but they were not rambling in the past +only; the expression of his face was concentrated and surly, which is +not the way when a man is absorbed solely in recollections. In a small +back room there sat, on a large chest, a young woman in a blue dressing +jacket with a white kerchief thrown over her dark hair, Fenitchka. She +was half listening, half dozing, and often looked across towards the +open door through which a child's cradle was visible, and the regular +breathing of a sleeping baby could be heard.</p> +<br><a name="chap5"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER V</h4> +<br> + +<p>The next morning Bazarov woke up earlier than any one and went out of +the house. 'Oh, my!' he thought, looking about him, 'the little place +isn't much to boast of!' When Nikolai Petrovitch had divided the land +with his peasants, he had had to build his new manor-house on four +acres of perfectly flat and barren land. He had built a house, offices, +and farm buildings, laid out a garden, dug a pond, and sunk two wells; +but the young trees had not done well, very little water had collected +in the pond, and that in the wells tasted brackish. Only one arbour of +lilac and acacia had grown fairly well; they sometimes had tea and +dinner in it. In a few minutes Bazarov had traversed all the little +paths of the garden; he went into the cattle-yard and the stable, +routed out two farm-boys, with whom he made friends at once, and set +off with them to a small swamp about a mile from the house to look for +frogs.</p> + +<p>'What do you want frogs for, sir?' one of the boys asked him.</p> + +<p>'I'll tell you what for,' answered Bazarov, who possessed the special +faculty of inspiring confidence in people of a lower class, though he +never tried to win them, and behaved very casually with them; 'I shall +cut the frog open, and see what's going on in his inside, and then, as +you and I are much the same as frogs, only that we walk on legs, I +shall know what's going on inside us too.'</p> + +<p>'And what do you want to know that for?'</p> + +<p>'So as not to make a mistake, if you're taken ill, and I have to cure +you.'</p> + +<p>'Are you a doctor then?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Vaska, do you hear, the gentleman says you and I are the same as +frogs, that's funny!'</p> + +<p>'I'm afraid of frogs,' observed Vaska, a boy of seven, with a head as +white as flax, and bare feet, dressed in a grey smock with a stand-up +collar.</p> + +<p>'What is there to be afraid of? Do they bite?'</p> + +<p>'There, paddle into the water, philosophers,' said Bazarov.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch too had waked up, and gone in to see +Arkady, whom he found dressed. The father and son went out on to the +terrace under the shelter of the awning; near the balustrade, on the +table, among great bunches of lilacs, the samovar was already boiling. +A little girl came up, the same who had been the first to meet them at +the steps on their arrival the evening before. In a shrill voice she +said—</p> + +<p>'Fedosya Nikolaevna is not quite well, she cannot come; she gave orders +to ask you, will you please to pour out tea yourself, or should she +send Dunyasha?'</p> + +<p>'I will pour out myself, myself,' interposed Nikolai Petrovitch +hurriedly. 'Arkady, how do you take your tea, with cream, or with +lemon?'</p> + +<p>'With cream,' answered Arkady; and after a brief silence, he uttered +interrogatively, 'Daddy?'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch in confusion looked at his son.</p> + +<p>'Well?' he said.</p> + +<p>Arkady dropped his eyes.</p> + +<p>'Forgive me, dad, if my question seems unsuitable to you,' he began, +'but you yourself, by your openness yesterday, encourage me to be open +... you will not be angry ...?'</p> + +<p>'Go on.'</p> + +<p>'You give me confidence to ask you.... Isn't the reason, Fen ... isn't +the reason she will not come here to pour out tea, because I'm here?'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch turned slightly away.</p> + +<p>'Perhaps,' he said, at last, 'she supposes ... she is ashamed.'</p> + +<p>Arkady turned a rapid glance on his father.</p> + +<p>'She has no need to be ashamed. In the first place, you are aware of my +views' (it was very sweet to Arkady to utter that word); 'and secondly, +could I be willing to hamper your life, your habits in the least thing? +Besides, I am sure you could not make a bad choice; if you have allowed +her to live under the same roof with you, she must be worthy of it; in +any case, a son cannot judge his father,—least of all, I, and least of +all such a father who, like you, has never hampered my liberty in +anything.'</p> + +<p>Arkady's voice had been shaky at the beginning; he felt himself +magnanimous, though at the same time he realised he was delivering +something of the nature of a lecture to his father; but the sound of +one's own voice has a powerful effect on any man, and Arkady brought +out his last words resolutely, even with emphasis.</p> + +<p>'Thanks, Arkasha,' said Nikolai Petrovitch thickly, and his fingers +again strayed over his eyebrows and forehead. 'Your suppositions are +just in fact. Of course, if this girl had not deserved.... It is not a +frivolous caprice. It's not easy for me to talk to you about this; but +you will understand that it is difficult for her to come here, in your +presence, especially the first day of your return.'</p> + +<p>'In that case I will go to her,' cried Arkady, with a fresh rush of +magnanimous feeling, and he jumped up from his seat. 'I will explain to +her that she has no need to be ashamed before me.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch too got up.</p> + +<p>'Arkady,' he began, 'be so good ... how can ... there ... I have not +told you yet ...'</p> + +<p>But Arkady did not listen to him, and ran off the terrace. Nikolai +Petrovitch looked after him, and sank into his chair overcome by +confusion. His heart began to throb. Did he at that moment realise the +inevitable strangeness of the future relations between him and his son? +Was he conscious that Arkady would perhaps have shown him more respect +if he had never touched on this subject at all? Did he reproach himself +for weakness?—it is hard to say; all these feelings were within him, +but in the state of sensations—and vague sensations—while the flush +did not leave his face, and his heart throbbed.</p> + +<p>There was the sound of hurrying footsteps, and Arkady came on to the +terrace. 'We have made friends, dad!' he cried, with an expression of a +kind of affectionate and good-natured triumph on his face. 'Fedosya +Nikolaevna is not quite well to-day really, and she will come a little +later. But why didn't you tell me I had a brother? I should have kissed +him last night, as I have kissed him just now.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch tried to articulate something, tried to get up and +open his arms. Arkady flung himself on his neck.</p> + +<p>'What's this? embracing again?' sounded the voice of Pavel Petrovitch +behind them.</p> + +<p>Father and son were equally rejoiced at his appearance at that instant; +there are positions, genuinely affecting, from which one longs to +escape as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>'Why should you be surprised at that?' said Nikolai Petrovitch gaily. +'Think what ages I have been waiting for Arkasha. I've not had time to +get a good look at him since yesterday.'</p> + +<p>'I'm not at all surprised,' observed Pavel Petrovitch; 'I feel not +indisposed to be embracing him myself.'</p> + +<p>Arkady went up to his uncle, and again felt his cheeks caressed by his +perfumed moustache. Pavel Petrovitch sat down to the table. He wore an +elegant morning suit in the English style, and a gay little fez on his +head. This fez and the carelessly tied little cravat carried a +suggestion of the freedom of country life, but the stiff collars of his +shirt—not white, it is true, but striped, as is correct in morning +dress—stood up as inexorably as ever against his well-shaved chin.</p> + +<p>'Where's your new friend?' he asked Arkady.</p> + +<p>'He's not in the house; he usually gets up early and goes off somewhere. +The great thing is, we mustn't pay any attention to him; he doesn't +like ceremony.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, that's obvious.' Pavel Petrovitch began deliberately spreading +butter on his bread. 'Is he going to stay long with us?'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps. He came here on the way to his father's.'</p> + +<p>'And where does his father live?'</p> + +<p>'In our province, sixty-four miles from here. He has a small property +there. He was formerly an army doctor.'</p> + +<p>'Tut, tut, tut! To be sure, I kept asking myself, "Where have I heard +that name, Bazarov?" Nikolai, do you remember, in our father's division +there was a surgeon Bazarov?'</p> + +<p>'I believe there was.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes, to be sure. So that surgeon was his father. Hm!' Pavel +Petrovitch pulled his moustaches. 'Well, and what is Mr. Bazarov +himself?' he asked, deliberately.</p> + +<p>'What is Bazarov?' Arkady smiled. 'Would you like me, uncle, to tell +you what he really is?'</p> + +<p>'If you will be so good, nephew.'</p> + +<p>'He's a nihilist.'</p> + +<p>'Eh?' inquired Nikolai Petrovitch, while Pavel Petrovitch lilted a +knife in the air with a small piece of butter on its tip, and remained +motionless.</p> + +<p>'He's a nihilist,' repeated Arkady.</p> + +<p>'A nihilist,' said Nikolai Petrovitch. 'That's from the Latin, <i>nihil</i>, +<i>nothing</i>, as far as I can judge; the word must mean a man who ... who +accepts nothing?'</p> + +<p>'Say, "who respects nothing,"' put in Pavel Petrovitch, and he set to +work on the butter again.</p> + +<p>'Who regards everything from the critical point of view,' observed +Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Isn't that just the same thing?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'No, it's not the same thing. A nihilist is a man who does not bow down +before any authority, who does not take any principle on faith, +whatever reverence that principle may be enshrined in.'</p> + +<p>'Well, and is that good?' interrupted Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'That depends, uncle. Some people it will do good to, but some people +will suffer for it.'</p> + +<p>'Indeed. Well, I see it's not in our line. We are old-fashioned people; +we imagine that without principles, taken as you say on faith, there's +no taking a step, no breathing. <i>Vous avez changé tout cela</i>. God give +you good health and the rank of a general, while we will be content to +look on and admire, worthy ... what was it?'</p> + +<p>'Nihilists,' Arkady said, speaking very distinctly.</p> + +<p>'Yes. There used to be Hegelists, and now there are nihilists. We shall +see how you will exist in void, in vacuum; and now ring, please, +brother Nikolai Petrovitch; it's time I had my cocoa.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch rang the bell and called, 'Dunyasha!' But instead of +Dunyasha, Fenitchka herself came on to the terrace. She was a young +woman about three-and-twenty, with a white soft skin, dark hair and +eyes, red, childishly-pouting lips, and little delicate hands. She wore +a neat print dress; a new blue kerchief lay lightly on her plump +shoulders. She carried a large cup of cocoa, and setting it down before +Pavel Petrovitch, she was overwhelmed with confusion: the hot blood +rushed in a wave of crimson over the delicate skin of her pretty face. +She dropped her eyes, and stood at the table, leaning a little on the +very tips of her fingers. It seemed as though she were ashamed of +having come in, and at the same time felt that she had a right to come.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch knitted his brows severely, while Nikolai Petrovitch +looked embarrassed.</p> + +<p>'Good morning, Fenitchka,' he muttered through his teeth.</p> + +<p>'Good morning,' she replied in a voice not loud but resonant, and with +a sidelong glance at Arkady, who gave her a friendly smile, she went +gently away. She walked with a slightly rolling gait, but even that +suited her.</p> + +<p>For some minutes silence reigned on the terrace. Pavel Petrovitch +sipped his cocoa; suddenly he raised his head. 'Here is Sir Nihilist +coming towards us,' he said in an undertone.</p> + +<p>Bazarov was in fact approaching through the garden, stepping over the +flower-beds. His linen coat and trousers were besmeared with mud; +clinging marsh weed was twined round the crown of his old round hat; in +his right hand he held a small bag; in the bag something alive was +moving. He quickly drew near the terrace, and said with a nod, 'Good +morning, gentlemen; sorry I was late for tea; I'll be back directly; I +must just put these captives away.'</p> + +<p>'What have you there—leeches?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'No, frogs.'</p> + +<p>'Do you eat them—or keep them?'</p> + +<p>'For experiment,' said Bazarov indifferently, and he went off into the +house.</p> + +<p>'So he's going to cut them up,' observed Pavel Petrovitch. 'He has no +faith in principles, but he has faith in frogs.'</p> + +<p>Arkady looked compassionately at his uncle; Nikolai Petrovitch shrugged +his shoulders stealthily. Pavel Petrovitch himself felt that his +epigram was unsuccessful, and began to talk about husbandry and the new +bailiff, who had come to him the evening before to complain that a +labourer, Foma, 'was deboshed,' and quite unmanageable. 'He's such an +Æsop,' he said among other things; 'in all places he has protested +himself a worthless fellow; he's not a man to keep his place; he'll +walk off in a huff like a fool.'</p> +<br><a name="chap6"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER VI</h4> +<br> + +<p>Bazarov came back, sat down to the table, and began hastily drinking +tea. The two brothers looked at him in silence, while Arkady stealthily +watched first his father and then his uncle.</p> + +<p>'Did you walk far from here?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked at last.</p> + +<p>'Where you've a little swamp near the aspen wood. I started some +half-dozen snipe; you might slaughter them; Arkady.'</p> + +<p>'Aren't you a sportsman then?'</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>'Is your special study physics?' Pavel Petrovitch in his turn inquired.</p> + +<p>'Physics, yes; and natural science in general.'</p> + +<p>'They say the Teutons of late have had great success in that line.'</p> + +<p>'Yes; the Germans are our teachers in it,' Bazarov answered carelessly.</p> + +<p>The word Teutons instead of Germans, Pavel Petrovitch had used with +ironical intention; none noticed it however.</p> + +<p>'Have you such a high opinion of the Germans?' said Pavel Petrovitch, +with exaggerated courtesy. He was beginning to feel a secret +irritation. His aristocratic nature was revolted by Bazarov's absolute +nonchalance. This surgeon's son was not only not overawed, he even gave +abrupt and indifferent answers, and in the tone of his voice there was +something churlish, almost insolent.</p> + +<p>'The scientific men there are a clever lot.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, ah. To be sure, of Russian scientific men you have not such a +flattering opinion, I dare say?'</p> + +<p>'That is very likely.'</p> + +<p>'That's very praiseworthy self-abnegation,' Pavel Petrovitch declared, +drawing himself up, and throwing his head back. 'But how is this? +Arkady Nikolaitch was telling us just now that you accept no +authorities? Don't you believe in <i>them?'</i></p> + +<p>'And how am I accepting them? And what am I to believe in? They tell me +the truth, I agree, that's all.'</p> + +<p>'And do all Germans tell the truth?' said Pavel Petrovitch, and his +face assumed an expression as unsympathetic, as remote, as if he had +withdrawn to some cloudy height.</p> + +<p>'Not all,' replied Bazarov, with a short yawn. He obviously did not +care to continue the discussion.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch glanced at Arkady, as though he would say to him, +'Your friend's polite, I must say.' 'For my own part,' he began again, +not without some effort, 'I am so unregenerate as not to like Germans. +Russian Germans I am not speaking of now; we all know what sort of +creatures they are. But even German Germans are not to my liking. In +former days there were some here and there; they had—well, Schiller, +to be sure, Goethe ... my brother—he takes a particularly favourable +view of them.... But now they have all turned chemists and materialists +...'</p> + +<p>'A good chemist is twenty times as useful as any poet,' broke in +Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Oh, indeed,' commented Pavel Petrovitch, and, as though falling +asleep, he faintly raised his eyebrows. 'You don't acknowledge art +then, I suppose?'</p> + +<p>'The art of making money or of advertising pills!' cried Bazarov, with +a contemptuous laugh.</p> + +<p>'Ah, ah. You are pleased to jest, I see. You reject all that, no doubt? +Granted. Then you believe in science only?'</p> + +<p>'I have already explained to you that I don't believe in anything; and +what is science—science in the abstract? There are sciences, as there +are trades and crafts; but abstract science doesn't exist at all.'</p> + +<p>'Very good. Well, and in regard to the other traditions accepted in +human conduct, do you maintain the same negative attitude?'</p> + +<p>'What's this, an examination?' asked Bazarov.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned slightly pale.... Nikolai Petrovitch thought it +his duty to interpose in the conversation.</p> + +<p>'We will converse on this subject with you more in detail some day, +dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch; we will hear your views, and express our own. +For my part, I am heartily glad you are studying the natural sciences. +I have heard that Liebig has made some wonderful discoveries in the +amelioration of soils. You can be of assistance to me in my +agricultural labours; you can give me some useful advice.'</p> + +<p>'I am at your service, Nikolai Petrovitch; but Liebig's miles over our +heads! One has first to learn the a b c, and then begin to read, and we +haven't set eyes on the alphabet yet.'</p> + +<p>'You are certainly a nihilist, I see that,' thought Nikolai Petrovitch. +'Still, you will allow me to apply to you on occasion,' he added aloud. +'And now I fancy, brother, it's time for us to be going to have a talk +with the bailiff.'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch got up from his seat.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he said, without looking at any one; 'it's a misfortune to live +five years in the country like this, far from mighty intellects! You +turn into a fool directly. You may try not to forget what you've been +taught, but—in a snap!—they'll prove all that's rubbish, and tell you +that sensible men have nothing more to do with such foolishness, and +that you, if you please, are an antiquated old fogey. What's to be +done? Young people, of course, are cleverer than we are!'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned slowly on his heels, and slowly walked away; +Nikolai Petrovitch went after him.</p> + +<p>'Is he always like that?' Bazarov coolly inquired of Arkady directly +the door had closed behind the two brothers.</p> + +<p>'I must say, Yevgeny, you weren't nice to him,' remarked Arkady. 'You +have hurt his feelings.'</p> + +<p>'Well, am I going to consider them, these provincial aristocrats! Why, +it's all vanity, dandy habits, fatuity. He should have continued his +career in Petersburg, if that's his bent. But there, enough of him! +I've found a rather rare species of a water-beetle, <i>Dytiscus +marginatus;</i> do you know it? I will show you.'</p> + +<p>'I promised to tell you his story,' began Arkady.</p> + +<p>'The story of the beetle?'</p> + +<p>'Come, don't, Yevgeny. The story of my uncle. You will see he's not the +sort of man you fancy. He deserves pity rather than ridicule.'</p> + +<p>'I don't dispute it; but why are you worrying over him?'</p> + +<p>'One ought to be just, Yevgeny.'</p> + +<p>'How does that follow?'</p> + +<p>'No; listen ...'</p> + +<p>And Arkady told him his uncle's story. The reader will find it in the +following chapter.</p> +<br><a name="chap7"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER VII</h4> +<br> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov was educated first at home, like his younger +brother, and afterwards in the Corps of Pages. From childhood he was +distinguished by remarkable beauty; moreover he was self-confident, +somewhat ironical, and had a rather biting humour; he could not fail to +please. He began to be seen everywhere, directly he had received his +commission as an officer. He was much admired in society, and he +indulged every whim, even every caprice and every folly, and gave +himself airs, but that too was attractive in him. Women went out of +their senses over him; men called him a coxcomb, and were secretly +jealous of him. He lived, as has been related already, in the same +apartments as his brother, whom he loved sincerely, though he was not +at all like him. Nikolai Petrovitch was a little lame, he had small, +pleasing features of a rather melancholy cast, small, black eyes, and +thin, soft hair; he liked being lazy, but he also liked reading, and +was timid in society.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch did not spend a single evening at home, prided himself +on his ease and audacity (he was just bringing gymnastics into fashion +among young men in society), and had read in all some five or six +French books. At twenty-eight he was already a captain; a brilliant +career awaited him. Suddenly everything was changed.</p> + +<p>At that time, there was sometimes seen in Petersburg society a woman +who has even yet not been forgotten. Princess R——. She had a +well-educated, well-bred, but rather stupid husband, and no children. +She used suddenly to go abroad, and suddenly return to Russia, and led +an eccentric life in general. She had the reputation of being a +frivolous coquette, abandoned herself eagerly to every sort of +pleasure, danced to exhaustion, laughed and jested with young men, whom +she received in the dim light of her drawing-room before dinner; while +at night she wept and prayed, found no peace in anything, and often +paced her room till morning, wringing her hands in anguish, or sat, +pale and chill, over a psalter. Day came, and she was transformed again +into a grand lady; again she went out, laughed, chattered, and simply +flung herself headlong into anything which could afford her the +slightest distraction. She was marvellously well-proportioned, her hair +coloured like gold and heavy as gold hung below her knees, but no one +would have called her a beauty; in her whole face the only good point +was her eyes, and even her eyes were not good—they were grey, and not +large—but their glance was swift and deep, unconcerned to the point of +audacity, and thoughtful to the point of melancholy—an enigmatic +glance. There was a light of something extraordinary in them, even +while her tongue was lisping the emptiest of inanities. She dressed +with elaborate care. Pavel Petrovitch met her at a ball, danced a +mazurka with her, in the course of which she did not utter a single +rational word, and fell passionately in love with her. Being accustomed +to make conquests, in this instance, too, he soon attained his object, +but his easy success did not damp his ardour. On the contrary, he was +in still more torturing, still closer bondage to this woman, in whom, +even at the very moment when she surrendered herself utterly, there +seemed always something still mysterious and unattainable, to which +none could penetrate. What was hidden in that soul—God knows! It +seemed as though she were in the power of mysterious forces, +incomprehensible even to herself; they seemed to play on her at will; +her intellect was not powerful enough to master their caprices. Her +whole behaviour presented a series of inconsistencies; the only letters +which could have awakened her husband's just suspicions, she wrote to a +man who was almost a stranger to her, whilst her love had always an +element of melancholy; with a man she had chosen as a lover, she ceased +to laugh and to jest, she listened to him, and gazed at him with a look +of bewilderment. Sometimes, for the most part suddenly, this +bewilderment passed into chill horror; her face took a wild, death-like +expression; she locked herself up in her bedroom, and her maid, putting +her ear to the keyhole, could hear her smothered sobs. More than once, +as he went home after a tender interview, Kirsanov felt within him that +heartrending, bitter vexation which follows on a total failure.</p> + +<p>'What more do I want?' he asked himself, while his heart was heavy. He +once gave her a ring with a sphinx engraved on the stone.</p> + +<p>'What's that?' she asked; 'a sphinx?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he answered, 'and that sphinx is you.'</p> + +<p>'I?' she queried, and slowly raising her enigmatical glance upon him. +'Do you know that's awfully flattering?' she added with a meaningless +smile, while her eyes still kept the same strange look.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch suffered even while Princess R—— loved him; but when +she grew cold to him, and that happened rather quickly, he almost went +out of his mind. He was on the rack, and he was jealous; he gave her no +peace, followed her about everywhere; she grew sick of his pursuit of +her, and she went abroad. He resigned his commission in spite of the +entreaties of his friends and the exhortations of his superiors, and +followed the princess; four years he spent in foreign countries, at one +time pursuing her, at another time intentionally losing sight of her. +He was ashamed of himself, he was disgusted with his own lack of spirit +... but nothing availed. Her image, that incomprehensible, almost +meaningless, but bewitching image, was deeply rooted in his heart. At +Baden he once more regained his old footing with her; it seemed as +though she had never loved him so passionately ... but in a month it +was all at an end: the flame flickered up for the last time and went +out for ever. Foreseeing inevitable separation, he wanted at least to +remain her friend, as though friendship with such a woman was +possible.... She secretly left Baden, and from that time steadily +avoided Kirsanov. He returned to Russia, and tried to live his former +life again; but he could not get back into the old groove. He wandered +from place to place like a man possessed; he still went into society; +he still retained the habits of a man of the world; he could boast of +two or three fresh conquests; but he no longer expected anything much +of himself or of others, and he undertook nothing. He grew old and +grey; spending all his evenings at the club, jaundiced and bored, and +arguing in bachelor society became a necessity for him—a bad sign, as +we all know. Marriage, of course, he did not even think of. Ten years +passed in this way; they passed by colourless and fruitless—and +quickly, fearfully quickly. Nowhere does time fly past as in Russia; in +prison they say it flies even faster. One day at dinner at the club, +Pavel Petrovitch heard of the death of the Princess R——. She had died +at Paris in a state bordering on insanity.</p> + +<p>He got up from the table, and a long time he paced about the rooms of +the club, or stood stockstill near the card-players, but he did not go +home earlier than usual. Some time later he received a packet addressed +to him; in it was the ring he had given the princess. She had drawn +lines in the shape of a cross over the sphinx and sent him word that +the solution of the enigma—was the cross.</p> + +<p>This happened at the beginning of the year 1848, at the very time when +Nikolai Petrovitch came to Petersburg, after the loss of his wife. +Pavel Petrovitch had scarcely seen his brother since the latter had +settled in the country; the marriage of Nikolai Petrovitch had +coincided with the very first days of Pavel Petrovitch's acquaintance +with the princess. When he came back from abroad, he had gone to him +with the intention of staying a couple of months with him, in +sympathetic enjoyment of his happiness, but he had only succeeded in +standing a week of it. The difference in the positions of the two +brothers was too great. In 1848, this difference had grown less; +Nikolai Petrovitch had lost his wife, Pavel Petrovitch had lost his +memories; after the death of the princess he tried not to think of her. +But to Nikolai, there remained the sense of a well-spent life, his son +was growing up under his eyes; Pavel, on the contrary, a solitary +bachelor, was entering upon that indefinite twilight period of regrets +that are akin to hopes, and hopes that are akin to regrets, when youth +is over, while old age has not yet come.</p> + +<p>This time was harder for Pavel Petrovitch than for another man; in +losing his past, he lost everything.</p> + +<p>'I will not invite you to Maryino now,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to him +one day, (he had called his property by that name in honour of his +wife); 'you were dull there in my dear wife's time, and now I think you +would be bored to death.'</p> + +<p>'I was stupid and fidgety then,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'since then +I have grown quieter, if not wiser. On the contrary, now, if you will +let me, I am ready to settle with you for good.'</p> + +<p>For all answer Nikolai Petrovitch embraced him; but a year and a half +passed after this conversation, before Pavel Petrovitch made up his +mind to carry out his intention. When he was once settled in the +country, however, he did not leave it, even during the three winters +which Nikolai Petrovitch spent in Petersburg with his son. He began to +read, chiefly English; he arranged his whole life, roughly speaking, in +the English style, rarely saw the neighbours, and only went out to the +election of marshals, where he was generally silent, only occasionally +annoying and alarming land-owners of the old school by his liberal +sallies, and not associating with the representatives of the younger +generation. Both the latter and the former considered him 'stuck up'; +and both parties respected him for his fine aristocratic manners; for +his reputation for successes in love; for the fact that he was very +well dressed and always stayed in the best room in the best hotel; for +the fact that he generally dined well, and had once even dined with +Wellington at Louis Philippe's table; for the fact that he always took +everywhere with him a real silver dressing-case and a portable bath; +for the fact that he always smelt of some exceptionally 'good form' +scent; for the fact that he played whist in masterly fashion, and +always lost; and lastly, they respected him also for his incorruptible +honesty. Ladies considered him enchantingly romantic, but he did not +cultivate ladies' acquaintance....</p> + +<p>'So you see, Yevgeny,' observed Arkady, as he finished his story, 'how +unjustly you judge of my uncle! To say nothing of his having more than +once helped my father out of difficulties, given him all his money—the +property, perhaps you don't know, wasn't divided—he's glad to help any +one, among other things he always sticks up for the peasants; it's +true, when he talks to them he frowns and sniffs eau de cologne.' ...</p> + +<p>'His nerves, no doubt,' put in Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Perhaps; but his heart is very good. And he's far from being stupid. +What useful advice he has given me especially ... especially in regard +to relations with women.'</p> + +<p>'Aha! a scalded dog fears cold water, we know that!'</p> + +<p>'In short,' continued Arkady, 'he's profoundly unhappy, believe me; +it's a sin to despise him.'</p> + +<p>'And who does despise him?' retorted Bazarov. 'Still, I must say that a +fellow who stakes his whole life on one card—a woman's love—and when +that card fails, turns sour, and lets himself go till he's fit for +nothing, is not a man, but a male. You say he's unhappy; you ought to +know best; to be sure, he's not got rid of all his fads. I'm convinced +that he solemnly imagines himself a superior creature because he reads +that wretched <i>Galignani</i>, and once a month saves a peasant from a +flogging.'</p> + +<p>'But remember his education, the age in which he grew up,' observed +Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Education?' broke in Bazarov. 'Every man must educate himself, just as +I've done, for instance.... And as for the age, why should I depend on +it? Let it rather depend on me. No, my dear fellow, that's all +shallowness, want of backbone! And what stuff it all is, about these +mysterious relations between a man and woman? We physiologists know +what these relations are. You study the anatomy of the eye; where does +the enigmatical glance you talk about come in there? That's all +romantic, nonsensical, æsthetic rot. We had much better go and look at +the beetle.'</p> + +<p>And the two friends went off to Bazarov's room, which was already +pervaded by a sort of medico-surgical odour, mingled with the smell of +cheap tobacco.</p> +<br><a name="chap8"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER VIII</h4> +<br> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch did not long remain present at his brother's interview +with his bailiff, a tall, thin man with a sweet consumptive voice and +knavish eyes, who to all Nikolai Petrovitch's remarks answered, +'Certainly, sir,' and tried to make the peasants out to be thieves and +drunkards. The estate had only recently been put on to the new reformed +system, and the new mechanism worked, creaking like an ungreased wheel, +warping and cracking like homemade furniture of unseasoned wood. +Nikolai Petrovitch did not lose heart, but often he sighed, and was +gloomy; he felt that the thing could not go on without money, and his +money was almost all spent. Arkady had spoken the truth; Pavel +Petrovitch had more than once helped his brother; more than once, +seeing him struggling and cudgelling his brains, at a loss which way to +turn, Pavel Petrovitch moved deliberately to the window, and with his +hands thrust into his pockets, muttered between his teeth, <i>'mais je +puis vous de l'argent,'</i> and gave him money; but to-day he had none +himself, and he preferred to go away. The petty details of agricultural +management worried him; besides, it constantly struck him that Nikolai +Petrovitch, for all his zeal and industry, did not set about things in +the right way, though he would not have been able to point out +precisely where Nikolai Petrovitch's mistake lay. 'My brother's not +practical enough,' he reasoned to himself; 'they impose upon him.' +Nikolai Petrovitch, on the other hand, had the highest opinion of Pavel +Petrovitch's practical ability, and always asked his advice. 'I'm a +soft, weak fellow, I've spent my life in the wilds,' he used to say; +'while you haven't seen so much of the world for nothing, you see +through people; you have an eagle eye.' In answer to which Pavel +Petrovitch only turned away, but did not contradict his brother.</p> + +<p>Leaving Nikolai Petrovitch in his study, he walked along the corridor, +which separated the front part of the house from the back; when he had +reached a low door, he stopped in hesitation, then pulling his +moustaches, he knocked at it.</p> + +<p>'Who's there? Come in,' sounded Fenitchka's voice.</p> + +<p>'It's I,' said Pavel Petrovitch, and he opened the door.</p> + +<p>Fenitchka jumped up from the chair on which she was sitting with her +baby, and giving him into the arms of a girl, who at once carried him +out of the room, she put straight her kerchief hastily.</p> + +<p>'Pardon me, if I disturb you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, not looking at +her; 'I only wanted to ask you ... they are sending into the town +to-day, I think ... please let them buy me some green tea.'</p> + +<p>'Certainly,' answered Fenitchka; 'how much do you desire them to buy?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, half a pound will be enough, I imagine. You have made a change +here, I see,' he added, with a rapid glance round him, which glided +over Fenitchka's face too. 'The curtains here,' he explained, seeing +she did not understand him.</p> + +<p>'Oh, yes, the curtains; Nikolai Petrovitch was so good as to make me a +present of them; but they have been put up a long while now.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, and it's a long while since I have been to see you. Now it is +very nice here.'</p> + +<p>'Thanks to Nikolai Petrovitch's kindness,' murmured Fenitchka.</p> + +<p>'You are more comfortable here than in the little lodge you used to +have?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch urbanely, but without the slightest +smile.</p> + +<p>'Certainly, it's more comfortable.'</p> + +<p>'Who has been put in your place now?'</p> + +<p>'The laundry-maids are there now.'</p> + +<p>'Ah!'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch was silent. 'Now he is going,' thought Fenitchka; but +he did not go, and she stood before him motionless.</p> + +<p>'What did you send your little one away for?' said Pavel Petrovitch at +last. 'I love children; let me see him.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka blushed all over with confusion and delight. She was afraid +of Pavel Petrovitch; he had scarcely ever spoken to her.</p> + +<p>'Dunyasha,' she called; 'will you bring Mitya, please.' (Fenitchka did +not treat any one in the house familiarly.) 'But wait a minute, he must +have a frock on,' Fenitchka was going towards the door.</p> + +<p>'That doesn't matter,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'I will be back directly,' answered Fenitchka, and she went out +quickly.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch was left alone, and he looked round this time with +special attention. The small low-pitched room in which he found himself +was very clean and snug. It smelt of the freshly painted floor and of +camomile. Along the walls stood chairs with lyre-shaped backs, bought +by the late general on his campaign in Poland; in one corner was a +little bedstead under a muslin canopy beside an iron-clamped chest with +a convex lid. In the opposite corner a little lamp was burning before a +big dark picture of St. Nikolai the wonder-worker; a tiny porcelain egg +hung by a red ribbon from the protruding gold halo down to the saint's +breast; by the windows greenish glass jars of last year's jam carefully +tied down could be seen; on their paper covers Fenitchka herself had +written in big letters 'Gooseberry'; Nikolai Petrovitch was +particularly fond of that preserve. On a long cord from the ceiling a +cage hung with a short-tailed siskin in it; he was constantly chirping +and hopping about, the cage was constantly shaking and swinging, while +hempseeds fell with a light tap on to the floor. On the wall just above +a small chest of drawers hung some rather bad photographs of Nikolai +Petrovitch in various attitudes, taken by an itinerant photographer; +there too hung a photograph of Fenitchka herself, which was an absolute +failure; it was an eyeless face wearing a forced smile, in a dingy +frame, nothing more could be made out; while above Fenitchka, General +Yermolov, in a Circassian cloak, scowled menacingly upon the Caucasian +mountains in the distance, from beneath a little silk shoe for pins +which fell right on to his brows.</p> + +<p>Five minutes passed; bustling and whispering could be heard in the next +room. Pavel Petrovitch took up from the chest of drawers a greasy book, +an odd volume of Masalsky's <i>Musketeer</i>, and turned over a few +pages.... The door opened, and Fenitchka came in with Mitya in her +arms. She had put on him a little red smock with embroidery on the +collar, had combed his hair and washed his face; he was breathing +heavily, his whole body working, and his little hands waving in the +air, as is the way with all healthy babies; but his smart smock +obviously impressed him, an expression of delight was reflected in +every part of his little fat person. Fenitchka had put her own hair too +in order, and had arranged her kerchief; but she might well have +remained as she was. And really is there anything in the world more +captivating than a beautiful young mother with a healthy baby in her +arms?</p> + +<p>'What a chubby fellow!' said Pavel Petrovitch graciously, and he +tickled Mitya's little double chin with the tapering nail of his +forefinger. The baby stared at the siskin, and chuckled.</p> + +<p>'That's uncle,' said Fenitchka, bending her face down to him and +slightly rocking him, while Dunyasha quietly set in the window a +smouldering perfumed stick, putting a halfpenny under it.</p> + +<p>'How many months old is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'Six months; it will soon be seven, on the eleventh.'</p> + +<p>'Isn't it eight, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' put in Dunyasha, with some +timidity.</p> + +<p>'No, seven; what an idea!' The baby chuckled again, stared at the +chest, and suddenly caught hold of his mother's nose and mouth with all +his five little fingers. 'Saucy mite,' said Fenitchka, not drawing her +face away.</p> + +<p>'He's like my brother,' observed Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'Who else should he be like?' thought Fenitchka.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' continued Pavel Petrovitch, as though speaking to himself; +'there's an unmistakable likeness.' He looked attentively, almost +mournfully, at Fenitchka.</p> + +<p>'That's uncle,' she repeated, in a whisper this time.</p> + +<p>'Ah! Pavel! so you're here!' was heard suddenly the voice of Nikolai +Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned hurriedly round, frowning; but his brother +looked at him with such delight, such gratitude, that he could not help +responding to his smile.</p> + +<p>'You've a splendid little cherub,' he said, and looking at his watch, +'I came in here to speak about some tea.'</p> + +<p>And, assuming an expression of indifference, Pavel Petrovitch at once +went out of the room.</p> + +<p>'Did he come of himself?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked Fenitchka.</p> + +<p>'Yes; he knocked and came in.'</p> + +<p>'Well, and has Arkasha been in to see you again?'</p> + +<p>'No. Hadn't I better move into the lodge, Nikolai Petrovitch?'</p> + +<p>'Why so?'</p> + +<p>'I wonder whether it wouldn't be best just for the first.'</p> + +<p>'N ... no,' Nikolai Petrovitch brought out hesitatingly, rubbing his +forehead. 'We ought to have done it before.... How are you, fatty?' he +said, suddenly brightening, and going up to the baby, he kissed him on +the cheek; then he bent a little and pressed his lips to Fenitchka's +hand, which lay white as milk upon Mitya's little red smock.</p> + +<p>'Nikolai Petrovitch! what are you doing?' she whispered, dropping her +eyes, then slowly raising them. Very charming was the expression of her +eyes when she peeped, as it were, from under her lids, and smiled +tenderly and a little foolishly.</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch had made Fenitchka's acquaintance in the following +manner. He had once happened three years before to stay a night at an +inn in a remote district town. He was agreeably struck by the cleanness +of the room assigned to him, the freshness of the bed-linen. Surely the +woman of the house must be a German? was the idea that occurred to him; +but she proved to be a Russian, a woman of about fifty, neatly dressed, +of a good-looking, sensible countenance and discreet speech. He entered +into conversation with her at tea; he liked her very much. Nikolai +Petrovitch had at that time only just moved into his new home, and not +wishing to keep serfs in the house, he was on the look-out for +wage-servants; the woman of the inn on her side complained of the small +number of visitors to the town, and the hard times; he proposed to her +to come into his house in the capacity of housekeeper; she consented. +Her husband had long been dead, leaving her an only daughter, +Fenitchka. Within a fortnight Arina Savishna (that was the new +housekeeper's name) arrived with her daughter at Maryino and installed +herself in the little lodge. Nikolai Petrovitch's choice proved a +successful one. Arina brought order into the household. As for +Fenitchka, who was at that time seventeen, no one spoke of her, and +scarcely any one saw her; she lived quietly and sedately, and only on +Sundays Nikolai Petrovitch noticed in the church somewhere in a side +place the delicate profile of her white face. More than a year passed +thus.</p> + +<p>One morning, Arina came into his study, and bowing low as usual, she +asked him if he could do anything for her daughter, who had got a spark +from the stove in her eye. Nikolai Petrovitch, like all stay-at-home +people, had studied doctoring and even compiled a homoeopathic guide. +He at once told Arina to bring the patient to him. Fenitchka was much +frightened when she heard the master had sent for her; however, she +followed her mother. Nikolai Petrovitch led her to the window and took +her head in his two hands. After thoroughly examining her red and +swollen eye, he prescribed a fomentation, which he made up himself at +once, and tearing his handkerchief in pieces, he showed her how it +ought to be applied. Fenitchka listened to all he had to say, and then +was going. 'Kiss the master's hand, silly girl,' said Arina. Nikolai +Petrovitch did not give her his hand, and in confusion himself kissed +her bent head on the parting of her hair. Fenitchka's eye was soon well +again, but the impression she had made on Nikolai Petrovitch did not +pass away so quickly. He was for ever haunted by that pure, delicate, +timidly raised face; he felt on the palms of his hands that soft hair, +and saw those innocent, slightly parted lips, through which pearly +teeth gleamed with moist brilliance in the sunshine. He began to watch +her with great attention in church, and tried to get into conversation +with her. At first she was shy of him, and one day meeting him at the +approach of evening in a narrow footpath through a field of rye, she +ran into the tall thick rye, overgrown with cornflowers and wormwood, +so as not to meet him face to face. He caught sight of her little head +through a golden network of ears of rye, from which she was peeping out +like a little animal, and called affectionately to her—</p> + +<p>'Good-evening, Fenitchka! I don't bite.'</p> + +<p>'Good-evening,' she whispered, not coming out of her ambush.</p> + +<p>By degrees she began to be more at home with him, but was still shy in +his presence, when suddenly her mother, Arina, died of cholera. What +was to become of Fenitchka? She inherited from her mother a love for +order, regularity, and respectability; but she was so young, so alone. +Nikolai Petrovitch was himself so good and considerate.... It's +needless to relate the rest....</p> + +<p>'So my brother came in to see you?' Nikolai Petrovitch questioned her. +'He knocked and came in?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Well, that's a good thing. Let me give Mitya a swing.'</p> + +<p>And Nikolai Petrovitch began tossing him almost up to the ceiling, to +the huge delight of the baby, and to the considerable uneasiness of the +mother, who every time he flew up stretched her arms up towards his +little bare legs.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch went back to his artistic study, with its walls +covered with handsome bluish-grey hangings, with weapons hanging upon a +variegated Persian rug nailed to the wall; with walnut furniture, +upholstered in dark green velveteen, with a <i>renaissance</i> bookcase of +old black oak, with bronze statuettes on the magnificent writing-table, +with an open hearth. He threw himself on the sofa, clasped his hands +behind his head, and remained without moving, looking with a face +almost of despair at the ceiling. Whether he wanted to hide from the +very walls that which was reflected in his face, or for some other +reason, he got up, drew the heavy window curtains, and again threw +himself on the sofa.</p> +<br><a name="chap9"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER IX</h4> +<br> + +<p>On the same day Bazarov made acquaintance with Fenitchka. He was +walking with Arkady in the garden, and explaining to him why some of +the trees, especially the oaks, had not done well.</p> + +<p>'You ought to have planted silver poplars here by preference, and +spruce firs, and perhaps limes, giving them some loam. The arbour there +has done well,' he added, 'because it's acacia and lilac; they're +accommodating good fellows, those trees, they don't want much care. But +there's some one in here.'</p> + +<p>In the arbour was sitting Fenitchka, with Dunyasha and Mitya. Bazarov +stood still, while Arkady nodded to Fenitchka like an old friend.</p> + +<p>'Who's that?' Bazarov asked him directly they had passed by. 'What a +pretty girl!'</p> + +<p>'Whom are you speaking of?'</p> + +<p>'You know; only one of them was pretty.'</p> + +<p>Arkady, not without embarrassment, explained to him briefly who +Fenitchka was.</p> + +<p>'Aha!' commented Bazarov; 'your father's got good taste, one can see. I +like him, your father, ay, ay! He's a jolly fellow. We must make +friends though,' he added, and turned back towards the arbour.</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny!' Arkady cried after him in dismay; 'mind what you are about, +for mercy's sake.'</p> + +<p>'Don't worry yourself,' said Bazarov; 'I know how to behave myself—I'm +not a booby.'</p> + +<p>Going up to Fenitchka, he took off his cap.</p> + +<p>'Allow me to introduce myself,' he began, with a polite bow. 'I'm a +harmless person, and a friend of Arkady Nikolaevitch's.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka got up from the garden seat and looked at him without +speaking.</p> + +<p>'What a splendid baby!' continued Bazarov; 'don't be uneasy, my praises +have never brought ill-luck yet. Why is it his cheeks are so flushed? +Is he cutting his teeth?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Fenitchka; 'he has cut four teeth already, and now the gums +are swollen again.'</p> + +<p>'Show me, and don't be afraid, I'm a doctor.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov took the baby up in his arms, and to the great astonishment +both of Fenitchka and Dunyasha the child made no resistance, and was +not frightened.</p> + +<p>'I see, I see.... It's nothing, everything's as it should be; he will +have a good set of teeth. If anything goes wrong, tell me. And are you +quite well yourself?'</p> + +<p>'Quite, thank God.'</p> + +<p>'Thank God, indeed—that's the great thing. And you?' he added, turning +to Dunyasha.</p> + +<p>Dunyasha, a girl very prim in the master's house, and a romp outside +the gates, only giggled in answer.</p> + +<p>'Well, that's all right. Here's your gallant fellow.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka received the baby in her arms.</p> + +<p>'How good he was with you!' she commented in an undertone.</p> + +<p>'Children are always good with me.' answered Bazarov; 'I have a way +with them.'</p> + +<p>'Children know who loves them,' remarked Dunyasha.</p> + +<p>'Yes, they certainly do,' Fenitchka said. 'Why, Mitya will not go to +some people for anything.'</p> + +<p>'Will he come to me?' asked Arkady, who, after standing in the distance +for some time, had gone up to the arbour.</p> + +<p>He tried to entice Mitya to come to him, but Mitya threw his head back +and screamed, to Fenitchka's great confusion.</p> + +<p>'Another day, when he's had time to get used to me,' said Arkady +indulgently, and the two friends walked away.</p> + +<p>'What's her name?' asked Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Fenitchka ... Fedosya,' answered Arkady.</p> + +<p>'And her father's name? One must know that too.'</p> + +<p>'Nikolaevna.'</p> + +<p><i>'Bene</i>. What I like in her is that she's not too embarrassed. Some +people, I suppose, would think ill of her for it. What nonsense! What +is there to embarrass her? She's a mother—she's all right.'</p> + +<p>'She's all right,' observed Arkady,—'but my father.'</p> + +<p>'And he's right too,' put in Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Well, no, I don't think so.'</p> + +<p>'I suppose an extra heir's not to your liking?'</p> + +<p>'I wonder you're not ashamed to attribute such ideas to me!' retorted +Arkady hotly; 'I don't consider my father wrong from that point of +view; I think he ought to marry her.'</p> + +<p>'Hoity-toity!' responded Bazarov tranquilly. 'What magnanimous fellows +we are! You still attach significance to marriage; I did not expect +that of you.'</p> + +<p>The friends walked a few paces in silence.</p> + +<p>'I have looked at all your father's establishment,' Bazarov began +again. 'The cattle are inferior, the horses are broken down; the +buildings aren't up to much, and the workmen look confirmed loafers; +while the superintendent is either a fool, or a knave, I haven't quite +found out which yet.'</p> + +<p>'You are rather hard on everything to-day, Yevgeny Vassilyevitch.'</p> + +<p>'And the dear good peasants are taking your father in to a dead +certainty. You know the Russian proverb, "The Russian peasant will +cheat God Himself."'</p> + +<p>'I begin to agree with my uncle,' remarked Arkady; 'you certainly have +a poor opinion of Russians.'</p> + +<p>'As though that mattered! The only good point in a Russian is his +having the lowest possible opinion of himself. What does matter is that +two and two make four, and the rest is all foolery.'</p> + +<p>'And is nature foolery?' said Arkady, looking pensively at the +bright-coloured fields in the distance, in the beautiful soft light of +the sun, which was not yet high up in the sky.</p> + +<p>'Nature, too, is foolery in the sense you understand it. Nature's not a +temple, but a workshop, and man's the workman in it.'</p> + +<p>At that instant, the long drawn notes of a violoncello floated out to +them from the house. Some one was playing Schubert's <i>Expectation</i> with +much feeling, though with an untrained hand, and the melody flowed with +honey sweetness through the air.</p> + +<p>'What's that?' cried Bazarov in amazement.</p> + +<p>'It's my father.'</p> + +<p>'Your father plays the violoncello?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'And how old is your father?'</p> + +<p>'Forty-four.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov suddenly burst into a roar of laughter.</p> + +<p>'What are you laughing at?'</p> + +<p>'Upon my word, a man of forty-four, a <i>paterfamilias</i> in this +out-of-the-way district, playing on the violoncello!'</p> + +<p>Bazarov went on laughing; but much as he revered his master, this time +Arkady did not even smile.</p> +<br><a name="chap10"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER X</h4> +<br> + +<p>About a fortnight passed by. Life at Maryino went on its accustomed +course, while Arkady was lazy and enjoyed himself, and Bazarov worked. +Every one in the house had grown used to him, to his careless manners, +and his curt and abrupt speeches. Fenitchka, in particular, was so far +at home with him that one night she sent to wake him up; Mitya had had +convulsions; and he had gone, and, half joking, half-yawning as usual, +he stayed two hours with her and relieved the child. On the other hand +Pavel Petrovitch had grown to detest Bazarov with all the strength of +his soul; he regarded him as stuck-up, impudent, cynical, and vulgar; +he suspected that Bazarov had no respect for him, that he had all but a +contempt for him—him, Pavel Kirsanov!</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch was rather afraid of the young 'nihilist,' and was +doubtful whether his influence over Arkady was for the good; but he was +glad to listen to him, and was glad to be present at his scientific and +chemical experiments. Bazarov had brought with him a microscope, and +busied himself for hours together with it. The servants, too, took to +him, though he made fun of them; they felt, all the same, that he was +one of themselves, not a master. Dunyasha was always ready to giggle +with him, and used to cast significant and stealthy glances at him when +she skipped by like a rabbit; Piotr, a man vain and stupid to the last +degree, for ever wearing an affected frown on his brow, a man whose +whole merit consisted in the fact that he looked civil, could spell out +a page of reading, and was diligent in brushing his coat—even he +smirked and brightened up directly Bazarov paid him any attention; the +boys on the farm simply ran after the 'doctor' like puppies. The old +man Prokofitch was the only one who did not like him; he handed him the +dishes at table with a surly face, called him a 'butcher' and 'an +upstart,' and declared that with his great whiskers he looked like a +pig in a stye. Prokofitch in his own way was quite as much of an +aristocrat as Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>The best days of the year had come—the first days of June. The weather +kept splendidly fine; in the distance, it is true, the cholera was +threatening, but the inhabitants of that province had had time to get +used to its visits. Bazarov used to get up very early and go out for +two or three miles, not for a walk—he couldn't bear walking without an +object—but to collect specimens of plants and insects. Sometimes he +took Arkady with him.</p> + +<p>On the way home an argument usually sprang up, and Arkady was usually +vanquished in it, though he said more than his companion.</p> + +<p>One day they had lingered rather late; Nikolai Petrovitch went to meet +them in the garden, and as he reached the arbour he suddenly heard the +quick steps and voices of the two young men. They were walking on the +other side of the arbour, and could not see him.</p> + +<p>'You don't know my father well enough,' said Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Your father's a nice chap,' said Bazarov, 'but he's behind the times; +his day is done.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch listened intently.... Arkady made no answer.</p> + +<p>The man whose day was done remained two minutes motionless, and stole +slowly home.</p> + +<p>'The day before yesterday I saw him reading Pushkin,' Bazarov was +continuing meanwhile. 'Explain to him, please, that that's no earthly +use. He's not a boy, you know; it's time to throw up that rubbish. And +what an idea to be a romantic at this time of day! Give him something +sensible to read.'</p> + +<p>'What ought I to give him?' asked Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Oh, I think Büchner's <i>Stoff und Kraft</i> to begin with.'</p> + +<p>'I think so too,' observed Arkady approving, <i>'Stoff und Kraft</i> is +written in popular language....'</p> + +<p>'So it seems,' Nikolai Petrovitch said the same day after dinner to his +brother, as he sat in his study, 'you and I are behind the times, our +day's over. Well, well. Perhaps Bazarov is right; but one thing I +confess, makes me feel sore; I did so hope, precisely now, to get on to +such close intimate terms with Arkady, and it turns out I'm left +behind, and he has gone forward, and we can't understand one another.'</p> + +<p>'How has he gone forward? And in what way is he so superior to us +already?' cried Pavel Petrovitch impatiently. 'It's that high and +mighty gentleman, that nihilist, who's knocked all that into his head. +I hate that doctor fellow; in my opinion, he's simply a quack; I'm +convinced, for all his tadpoles, he's not got very far even in +medicine.'</p> + +<p>'No, brother, you mustn't say that; Bazarov is clever, and knows his +subject.'</p> + +<p>'And his conceit's something revolting,' Pavel Petrovitch broke in +again.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'he is conceited. But there's no +doing without that, it seems; only that's what I did not take into +account. I thought I was doing everything to keep up with the times; I +have started a model farm; I have done well by the peasants, so that I +am positively called a "Red Radical" all over the province; I read, I +study, I try in every way to keep abreast with the requirements of the +day—and they say my day's over. And, brother, I begin to think that it +is.'</p> + +<p>'Why so?'</p> + +<p>'I'll tell you why. This morning I was sitting reading Pushkin.... I +remember, it happened to be <i>The Gipsies</i> ... all of a sudden Arkady +came up to me, and, without speaking, with such a kindly compassion on +his face, as gently as if I were a baby, took the book away from me, +and laid another before me—a German book ... smiled, and went away, +carrying Pushkin off with him.'</p> + +<p>'Upon my word! What book did he give you?'</p> + +<p>'This one here.'</p> + +<p>And Nikolai Petrovitch pulled the famous treatise of Büchner, in the +ninth edition, out of his coat-tail pocket.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned it over in his hands. 'Hm!' he growled. 'Arkady +Nikolaevitch is taking your education in hand. Well, did you try +reading it?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I tried it.'</p> + +<p>'Well, what did you think of it?'</p> + +<p>'Either I'm stupid, or it's all—nonsense. I must be stupid, I +suppose.'</p> + +<p>'Haven't you forgotten your German?' queried Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'Oh, I understand the German.'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch again turned the book over in his hands, and glanced +from under his brows at his brother. Both were silent.</p> + +<p>'Oh, by the way,' began Nikolai Petrovitch, obviously wishing to change +the subject, 'I've got a letter from Kolyazin.'</p> + +<p>'Matvy Ilyitch?'</p> + +<p>'Yes. He has come to——to inspect the province. He's quite a bigwig +now; and writes to me that, as a relation, he should like to see us +again, and invites you and me and Arkady to the town.'</p> + +<p>'Are you going?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'No; are you?'</p> + +<p>'No, I shan't go either. Much object there would be in dragging oneself +over forty miles on a wild-goose chase. <i>Mathieu</i> wants to show himself +in all his glory. Damn him! he will have the whole province doing him +homage; he can get on without the likes of us. A grand dignity, indeed, +a privy councillor! If I had stayed in the service, if I had drudged on +in official harness, I should have been a general-adjutant by now. +Besides, you and I are behind the times, you know.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, brother; it's time, it seems, to order a coffin and cross one's +arms on ones breast,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>'Well, I'm not going to give in quite so soon,' muttered his brother. +'I've got a tussle with that doctor fellow before me, I feel sure of +that.'</p> + +<p>A tussle came off that same day at evening tea. Pavel Petrovitch came +into the drawing-room, all ready for the fray, irritable and +determined. He was only waiting for an excuse to fall upon the enemy; +but for a long while an excuse did not present itself. As a rule, +Bazarov said little in the presence of the 'old Kirsanovs' (that was +how he spoke of the brothers), and that evening he felt out of humour, +and drank off cup after cup of tea without a word. Pavel Petrovitch was +all aflame with impatience; his wishes were fulfilled at last.</p> + +<p>The conversation turned on one of the neighbouring landowners. 'Rotten +aristocratic snob,' observed Bazarov indifferently. He had met him in +Petersburg.</p> + +<p>'Allow me to ask you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, and his lips were +trembling, 'according to your ideas, have the words "rotten" and +"aristocrat" the same meaning?'</p> + +<p>'I said "aristocratic snob,"' replied Bazarov, lazily swallowing a sip +of tea.</p> + +<p>'Precisely so; but I imagine you have the same opinion of aristocrats +as of aristocratic snobs. I think it my duty to inform you that I do +not share that opinion. I venture to assert that every one knows me for +a man of liberal ideas and devoted to progress; but, exactly for that +reason, I respect aristocrats—real aristocrats. Kindly remember, sir' +(at these words Bazarov lifted his eyes and looked at Pavel +Petrovitch), 'kindly remember, sir,' he repeated, with acrimony—'the +English aristocracy. They do not abate one iota of their rights, and +for that reason they respect the rights of others; they demand the +performance of what is due to them, and for that reason they perform +their own duties. The aristocracy has given freedom to England, and +maintains it for her.'</p> + +<p>'We've heard that story a good many times,' replied Bazarov; 'but what +are you trying to prove by that?'</p> + +<p>'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir' (when Pavel Petrovitch was angry he +intentionally clipped his words in this way, though, of course, he knew +very well that such forms are not strictly grammatical. In this +fashionable whim could be discerned a survival of the habits of the +times of Alexander. The exquisites of those days, on the rare occasions +when they spoke their own language, made use of such slipshod forms; as +much as to say, 'We, of course, are born Russians, at the same time we +are great swells, who are at liberty to neglect the rules of +scholars'); 'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir, that without the sense +of personal dignity, without self-respect—and these two sentiments are +well developed in the aristocrat—there is no secure foundation for the +social ... <i>bien public</i> ... the social fabric. Personal character, +sir—that is the chief thing; a man's personal character must be firm +as a rock, since everything is built on it. I am very well aware, for +instance, that you are pleased to consider my habits, my dress, my +refinements, in fact, ridiculous; but all that proceeds from a sense of +self-respect, from a sense of duty—yes, indeed, of duty. I live in the +country, in the wilds, but I will not lower myself. I respect the +dignity of man in myself.'</p> + +<p>'Let me ask you, Pavel Petrovitch,' commented Bazarov; 'you respect +yourself, and sit with your hands folded; what sort of benefit does +that do to the <i>bien public?</i> If you didn't respect yourself, you'd do +just the same.'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch turned white. 'That's a different question. It's +absolutely unnecessary for me to explain to you now why I sit with +folded hands, as you are pleased to express yourself. I wish only to +tell you that aristocracy is a principle, and in our days none but +immoral or silly people can live without principles. I said that to +Arkady the day after he came home, and I repeat it now. Isn't it so, +Nikolai?'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch nodded his head.</p> + +<p>'Aristocracy, Liberalism, progress, principles,' Bazarov was saying +meanwhile; 'if you think of it, what a lot of foreign ... and useless +words! To a Russian they're good for nothing.'</p> + +<p>'What is good for something according to you? If we listen to you, we +shall find ourselves outside humanity, outside its laws. Come—the +logic of history demands ...'</p> + +<p>'But what's that logic to us? We can get on without that too.'</p> + +<p>'How do you mean?'</p> + +<p>'Why, this. You don't need logic, I hope, to put a bit of bread in your +mouth when you're hungry. What's the object of these abstractions to +us?'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch raised his hands in horror.</p> + +<p>'I don't understand you, after that. You insult the Russian people. I +don't understand how it's possible not to acknowledge principles, +rules! By virtue of what do you act then?'</p> + +<p>'I've told you already, uncle, that we don't accept any authorities,' +put in Arkady.</p> + +<p>'We act by virtue of what we recognise as beneficial,' observed +Bazarov. 'At the present time, negation is the most beneficial of +all—and we deny——'</p> + +<p>'Everything?'</p> + +<p>'Everything!'</p> + +<p>'What? not only art and poetry ... but even ... horrible to say ...'</p> + +<p>'Everything,' repeated Bazarov, with indescribable composure.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch stared at him. He had not expected this; while Arkady +fairly blushed with delight.</p> + +<p>'Allow me, though,' began Nikolai Petrovitch. 'You deny everything; or, +speaking more precisely, you destroy everything.... But one must +construct too, you know.'</p> + +<p>'That's not our business now.... The ground wants clearing first.'</p> + +<p>'The present condition of the people requires it,' added Arkady, with +dignity; 'we are bound to carry out these requirements, we have no +right to yield to the satisfaction of our personal egoism.'</p> + +<p>This last phrase obviously displeased Bazarov; there was a flavour of +philosophy, that is to say, romanticism about it, for Bazarov called +philosophy, too, romanticism, but he did not think it necessary to +correct his young disciple.</p> + +<p>'No, no!' cried Pavel Petrovitch, with sudden energy. 'I'm not willing +to believe that you, young men, know the Russian people really, that +you are the representatives of their requirements, their efforts! No; +the Russian people is not what you imagine it. Tradition it holds +sacred; it is a patriarchal people; it cannot live without faith ...'</p> + +<p>'I'm not going to dispute that,' Bazarov interrupted. 'I'm even ready +to agree that in that you're right.'</p> + +<p>'But if I am right ...'</p> + +<p>'And, all the same, that proves nothing.'</p> + +<p>'It just proves nothing,' repeated Arkady, with the confidence of a +practised chess-player, who has foreseen an apparently dangerous move +on the part of his adversary, and so is not at all taken aback by it.</p> + +<p>'How does it prove nothing?' muttered Pavel Petrovitch, astounded. 'You +must be going against the people then?'</p> + +<p>'And what if we are?' shouted Bazarov. 'The people imagine that, when +it thunders, the prophet Ilya's riding across the sky in his chariot. +What then? Are we to agree with them? Besides, the people's Russian; +but am I not Russian too?'</p> + +<p>'No, you are not Russian, after all you have just been saying! I can't +acknowledge you as Russian.'</p> + +<p>'My grandfather ploughed the land,' answered Bazarov with haughty +pride. 'Ask any one of your peasants which of us—you or me—he'd more +readily acknowledge as a fellow-countryman. You don't even know how to +talk to them.'</p> + +<p>'While you talk to him and despise him at the same time.'</p> + +<p>'Well, suppose he deserves contempt. You find fault with my attitude, +but how do you know that I have got it by chance, that it's not a +product of that very national spirit, in the name of which you wage war +on it?'</p> + +<p>'What an idea! Much use in nihilists!'</p> + +<p>'Whether they're of use or not, is not for us to decide. Why, even you +suppose you're not a useless person.'</p> + +<p>'Gentlemen, gentlemen, no personalities, please!' cried Nikolai +Petrovitch, getting up.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch smiled, and laying his hand on his brother's shoulder, +forced him to sit down again.</p> + +<p>'Don't be uneasy,' he said; 'I shall not forget myself, just through +that sense of dignity which is made fun of so mercilessly by our +friend—our friend, the doctor. Let me ask,' he resumed, turning again +to Bazarov; 'you suppose, possibly, that your doctrine is a novelty? +That is quite a mistake. The materialism you advocate has been more +than once in vogue already, and has always proved insufficient ...'</p> + +<p>'A foreign word again!' broke in Bazarov. He was beginning to feel +vicious, and his face assumed a peculiar coarse coppery hue. 'In the +first place, we advocate nothing; that's not our way.'</p> + +<p>'What do you do, then?'</p> + +<p>'I'll tell you what we do. Not long ago we used to say that our +officials took bribes, that we had no roads, no commerce, no real +justice ...'</p> + +<p>'Oh, I see, you are reformers—that's what that's called, I fancy. I +too should agree to many of your reforms, but ...'</p> + +<p>'Then we suspected that talk, perpetual talk, and nothing but talk, +about our social diseases, was not worth while, that it all led to +nothing but superficiality and pedantry; we saw that our leading men, +so-called advanced people and reformers, are no good; that we busy +ourselves over foolery, talk rubbish about art, unconscious +creativeness, parliamentarism, trial by jury, and the deuce knows what +all; while, all the while, it's a question of getting bread to eat, +while we're stifling under the grossest superstition, while all our +enterprises come to grief, simply because there aren't honest men +enough to carry them on, while the very emancipation our Government's +busy upon will hardly come to any good, because peasants are glad to +rob even themselves to get drunk at the gin-shop.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' interposed Pavel Petrovitch, 'yes; you were convinced of all +this, and decided not to undertake anything seriously, yourselves.'</p> + +<p>'We decided not to undertake anything,' repeated Bazarov grimly. He +suddenly felt vexed with himself for having, without reason, been so +expansive before this gentleman.</p> + +<p>'But to confine yourselves to abuse?'</p> + +<p>'To confine ourselves to abuse.'</p> + +<p>'And that is called nihilism?'</p> + +<p>'And that's called nihilism,' Bazarov repeated again, this time with +peculiar rudeness.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch puckered up his face a little. 'So that's it!' he +observed in a strangely composed voice. 'Nihilism is to cure all our +woes, and you, you are our heroes and saviours. But why do you abuse +others, those reformers even? Don't you do as much talking as every one +else?'</p> + +<p>'Whatever faults we have, we do not err in that way,' Bazarov muttered +between his teeth.</p> + +<p>'What, then? Do you act, or what? Are you preparing for action?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov made no answer. Something like a tremor passed over Pavel +Petrovitch, but he at once regained control of himself.</p> + +<p>'Hm! ... Action, destruction ...' he went on. 'But how destroy without +even knowing why?'</p> + +<p>'We shall destroy, because we are a force,' observed Arkady.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch looked at his nephew and laughed.</p> + +<p>'Yes, a force is not to be called to account,' said Arkady, drawing +himself up.</p> + +<p>'Unhappy boy!' wailed Pavel Petrovitch, he was positively incapable of +maintaining his firm demeanour any longer. 'If you could only realise +what it is you are doing for your country. No; it's enough to try the +patience of an angel! Force! There's force in the savage Kalmuck, in +the Mongolian; but what is it to us? What is precious to us is +civilisation; yes, yes, sir, its fruits are precious to us. And don't +tell me those fruits are worthless; the poorest dauber, <i>un +barbouilleur</i>, the man who plays dance music for five farthings an +evening, is of more use than you, because they are the representatives +of civilisation, and not of brute Mongolian force! You fancy yourselves +advanced people, and all the while you are only fit for the Kalmuck's +hovel! Force! And recollect, you forcible gentlemen, that you're only +four men and a half, and the others are millions, who won't let you +trample their sacred traditions under foot, who will crush you and walk +over you!'</p> + +<p>'If we're crushed, serve us right,' observed Bazarov. 'But that's an +open question. We are not so few as you suppose.'</p> + +<p>'What? You seriously suppose you will come to terms with a whole +people?'</p> + +<p>'All Moscow was burnt down, you know, by a farthing dip,' answered +Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes. First a pride almost Satanic, then ridicule—that, that's +what it is attracts the young, that's what gains an ascendancy over the +inexperienced hearts of boys! Here's one of them sitting beside you, +ready to worship the ground under your feet. Look at him! (Arkady +turned away and frowned.) And this plague has spread far already. I +have been told that in Rome our artists never set foot in the Vatican. +Raphael they regard as almost a fool, because, if you please, he's an +authority; while they're all the while most disgustingly sterile and +unsuccessful, men whose imagination does not soar beyond 'Girls at a +Fountain,' however they try! And the girls even out of drawing. They +are fine fellows to your mind, are they not?'</p> + +<p>'To my mind,' retorted Bazarov, 'Raphael's not worth a brass farthing; +and they're no better than he.'</p> + +<p>'Bravo! bravo! Listen, Arkady ... that's how young men of to-day ought +to express themselves! And if you come to think of it, how could they +fail to follow you! In old days, young men had to study; they didn't +want to be called dunces, so they had to work hard whether they liked +it or not. But now, they need only say, "Everything in the world is +foolery!" and the trick's done. Young men are delighted. And, to be +sure, they were simply geese before, and now they have suddenly turned +nihilists.'</p> + +<p>'Your praiseworthy sense of personal dignity has given way,' remarked +Bazarov phlegmatically, while Arkady was hot all over, and his eyes +were flashing. 'Our argument has gone too far; it's better to cut it +short, I think. I shall be quite ready to agree with you,' he added, +getting up, 'when you bring forward a single institution in our present +mode of life, in family or in social life, which does not call for +complete and unqualified destruction.'</p> + +<p>'I will bring forward millions of such institutions,' cried Pavel +Petrovitch—'millions! Well—the Mir, for instance.'</p> + +<p>A cold smile curved Bazarov's lips. 'Well, as regards the Mir,' he +commented; 'you had better talk to your brother. He has seen by now, I +should fancy, what sort of thing the Mir is in fact—its common +guarantee, its sobriety, and other features of the kind.'</p> + +<p>'The family, then, the family as it exists among our peasants!' cried +Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'And that subject, too, I imagine, it will be better for yourselves not +to go into in detail. Don't you realise all the advantages of the head +of the family choosing his daughters-in-law? Take my advice, Pavel +Petrovitch, allow yourself two days to think about it; you're not +likely to find anything on the spot. Go through all our classes, and +think well over each, while I and Arkady will ...'</p> + +<p>'Will go on turning everything into ridicule,' broke in Pavel +Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'No, will go on dissecting frogs. Come, Arkady; good-bye for the +present, gentlemen!'</p> + +<p>The two friends walked off. The brothers were left alone, and at first +they only looked at one another.</p> + +<p>'So that,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'so that's what our young men of +this generation are! They are like that—our successors!'</p> + +<p>'Our successors!' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, with a dejected smile. +He had been sitting on thorns, all through the argument, and had done +nothing but glance stealthily, with a sore heart, at Arkady. 'Do you +know what I was reminded of, brother? I once had a dispute with our +poor mother; she stormed, and wouldn't listen to me. At last I said to +her, "Of course, you can't understand me; we belong," I said, "to two +different generations." She was dreadfully offended, while I thought, +"There's no help for it. It's a bitter pill, but she has to swallow +it." You see, now, our turn has come, and our successors can say to us, +"You are not of our generation; swallow your pill."'</p> + +<p>'You are beyond everything in your generosity and modesty,' replied +Pavel Petrovitch. 'I'm convinced, on the contrary, that you and I are +far more in the right than these young gentlemen, though we do perhaps +express ourselves in old-fashioned language, <i>vieilli</i>, and have not +the same insolent conceit.... And the swagger of the young men +nowadays! You ask one, "Do you take red wine or white?" "It is my +custom to prefer red!" he answers in a deep bass, with a face as solemn +as if the whole universe had its eyes on him at that instant....'</p> + +<p>'Do you care for any more tea?' asked Fenitchka, putting her head in at +the door; she had not been able to make up her mind to come into the +drawing-room while there was the sound of voices in dispute there.</p> + +<p>'No, you can tell them to take the samovar,' answered Nikolai +Petrovitch, and he got up to meet her. Pavel Petrovitch said <i>'bon +soir'</i> to him abruptly, and went away to his study.</p> +<br><a name="chap11"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XI</h4> +<br> + +<p>Half an hour later Nikolai Petrovitch went into the garden to his +favourite arbour. He was overtaken by melancholy thoughts. For the +first time he realised clearly the distance between him and his son; he +foresaw that every day it would grow wider and wider. In vain, then, +had he spent whole days sometimes in the winter at Petersburg over the +newest books; in vain had he listened to the talk of the young men; in +vain had he rejoiced when he succeeded in putting in his word too in +their heated discussions. 'My brother says we are right,' he thought, +'and apart from all vanity, I do think myself that they are further +from the truth than we are, though at the same time I feel there is +something behind them we have not got, some superiority over us.... Is +it youth? No; not only youth. Doesn't their superiority consist in +there being fewer traces of the slaveowner in them than in us?'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch's head sank despondently, and he passed his hand +over his face.</p> + +<p>'But to renounce poetry?' he thought again; 'to have no feeling for +art, for nature ...'</p> + +<p>And he looked round, as though trying to understand how it was possible +to have no feeling for nature. It was already evening; the sun was +hidden behind a small copse of aspens which lay a quarter of a mile +from the garden; its shadow stretched indefinitely across the still +fields. A peasant on a white nag went at a trot along the dark, narrow +path close beside the copse; his whole figure was clearly visible even +to the patch on his shoulder, in spite of his being in the shade; the +horse's hoofs flew along bravely. The sun's rays from the farther side +fell full on the copse, and piercing through its thickets, threw such a +warm light on the aspen trunks that they looked like pines, and their +leaves were almost a dark blue, while above them rose a pale blue sky, +faintly tinged by the glow of sunset. The swallows flew high; the wind +had quite died away, belated bees hummed slowly and drowsily among the +lilac blossom; a swarm of midges hung like a cloud over a solitary +branch which stood out against the sky. 'How beautiful, my God!' +thought Nikolai Petrovitch, and his favourite verses were almost on his +lips; he remembered Arkady's <i>Stoff und Kraft</i>—and was silent, but +still he sat there, still he gave himself up to the sorrowful +consolation of solitary thought. He was fond of dreaming; his country +life had developed the tendency in him. How short a time ago, he had +been dreaming like this, waiting for his son at the posting station, +and what a change already since that day; their relations that were +then undefined, were defined now—and how defined! Again his dead wife +came back to his imagination, but not as he had known her for many +years, not as the good domestic housewife, but as a young girl with a +slim figure, innocently inquiring eyes, and a tight twist of hair on +her childish neck. He remembered how he had seen her for the first +time. He was still a student then. He had met her on the staircase of +his lodgings, and, jostling by accident against her, he tried to +apologise, and could only mutter, <i>'Pardon, monsieur,'</i> while she +bowed, smiled, and suddenly seemed frightened, and ran away, though at +the bend of the staircase she had glanced rapidly at him, assumed a +serious air, and blushed. Afterwards, the first timid visits, the +half-words, the half-smiles, and embarrassment; and melancholy, and +yearnings, and at last that breathing rapture.... Where had it all +vanished? She had been his wife, he had been happy as few on earth are +happy.... 'But,' he mused, 'these sweet first moments, why could one +not live an eternal, undying life in them?'</p> + +<p>He did not try to make his thought clear to himself; but he felt that +he longed to keep that blissful time by something stronger than memory; +he longed to feel his Marya near him again to have the sense of her +warmth and breathing, and already he could fancy that over him....</p> + +<p>'Nikolai Petrovitch,' came the sound of Fenitchka's voice close by him; +'where are you?'</p> + +<p>He started. He felt no pang, no shame. He never even admitted the +possibility of comparison between his wife and Fenitchka, but he was +sorry she had thought of coming to look for him. Her voice had brought +back to him at once his grey hairs, his age, his reality....</p> + +<p>The enchanted world into which he was just stepping, which was just +rising out of the dim mists of the past, was shaken—and vanished.</p> + +<p>'I'm here,' he answered; 'I'm coming, run along.' 'There it is, the +traces of the slave owner,' flashed through his mind. Fenitchka peeped +into the arbour at him without speaking, and disappeared; while he +noticed with astonishment that the night had come on while he had been +dreaming. Everything around was dark and hushed. Fenitchka's face had +glimmered so pale and slight before him. He got up, and was about to go +home; but the emotion stirred in his heart could not be soothed at +once, and he began slowly walking about the garden, sometimes looking +at the ground at his feet, and then raising his eyes towards the sky +where swarms of stars were twinkling. He walked a great deal, till he +was almost tired out, while the restlessness within him, a kind of +yearning, vague, melancholy restlessness, still was not appeased. Oh, +how Bazarov would have laughed at him, if he had known what was passing +within him then! Arkady himself would have condemned him. He, a man +forty-four years old, an agriculturist and a farmer, was shedding +tears, causeless tears; this was a hundred times worse than the +violoncello.</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch continued walking, and could not make up his mind to +go into the house, into the snug peaceful nest, which looked out at him +so hospitably from all its lighted windows; he had not the force to +tear himself away from the darkness, the garden, the sense of the fresh +air in his face, from that melancholy, that restless craving.</p> + +<p>At a turn in the path, he was met by Pavel Petrovitch. 'What's the +matter with you?' he asked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'you are as white as a +ghost; you are not well; why don't you go to bed?'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch explained to him briefly his state of feeling and +moved away. Pavel Petrovitch went to the end of the garden, and he too +grew thoughtful, and he too raised his eyes toward the heavens. But in +his beautiful dark eyes, nothing was reflected but the light of the +stars. He was not born an idealist, and his fastidiously dry and +sensuous soul, with its French tinge of cynicism was not capable of +dreaming....</p> + +<p>'Do you know what?' Bazarov was saying to Arkady the same night. 'I've +got a splendid idea. Your father was saying to-day that he'd had an +invitation from your illustrious relative. Your father's not going; let +us be off to X——; you know the worthy man invites you too. You see +what fine weather it is; we'll stroll about and look at the town. We'll +have five or six days' outing, and enjoy ourselves.'</p> + +<p>'And you'll come back here again?'</p> + +<p>'No; I must go to my father's. You know, he lives about twenty-five +miles from X——. I've not seen him for a long while, and my mother +too; I must cheer the old people up. They've been good to me, +especially my father; he's awfully funny. I'm their only one too.'</p> + +<p>'And will you be long with them?'</p> + +<p>'I don't suppose so. It will be dull, of course.'</p> + +<p>'And you'll come to us on your way back?'</p> + +<p>'I don't know ... I'll see. Well, what do you say? Shall we go?'</p> + +<p>'If you like,' observed Arkady languidly.</p> + +<p>In his heart he was highly delighted with his friend's suggestion, but +he thought it a duty to conceal his feeling. He was not a nihilist for +nothing!</p> + +<p>The next day he set off with Bazarov to X——. The younger part of the +household at Maryino were sorry at their going; Dunyasha even cried ... +but the old folks breathed more easily.</p> +<br><a name="chap12"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XII</h4> +<br> + +<p>The town of X—— to which our friends set off was in the jurisdiction +of a governor who was a young man, and at once a progressive and a +despot, as often happens with Russians. Before the end of the first +year of his government, he had managed to quarrel not only with the +marshal of nobility, a retired officer of the guards, who kept open +house and a stud of horses, but even with his own subordinates. The +feuds arising from this cause assumed at last such proportions that the +ministry in Petersburg had found it necessary to send down a trusted +personage with a commission to investigate it all on the spot. The +choice of the authorities fell upon Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, the son of +the Kolyazin, under whose protection the brothers Kirsanov had once +found themselves. He, too, was a 'young man'; that is to say, he had +not long passed forty, but he was already on the high road to becoming +a statesman, and wore a star on each side of his breast—one, to be +sure, a foreign star, not of the first magnitude. Like the governor, +whom he had come down to pass judgment upon, he was reckoned a +progressive; and though he was already a bigwig, he was not like the +majority of bigwigs. He had the highest opinion of himself; his vanity +knew no bounds, but he behaved simply, looked affable, listened +condescendingly, and laughed so good-naturedly, that on a first +acquaintance he might even be taken for 'a jolly good fellow.' On +important occasions, however, he knew, as the saying is, how to make +his authority felt. 'Energy is essential,' he used to say then, +<i>'l'énergie est la première qualité d'un homme d'état;'</i> and for all +that, he was usually taken in, and any moderately experienced official +could turn him round his finger. Matvy Ilyitch used to speak with great +respect of Guizot, and tried to impress every one with the idea that he +did not belong to the class of <i>routiniers</i> and high-and-dry +bureaucrats, that not a single phenomenon of social life passed +unnoticed by him.... All such phrases were very familiar to him. He +even followed, with dignified indifference, it is true, the development +of contemporary literature; so a grown-up man who meets a procession of +small boys in the street will sometimes walk after it. In reality, +Matvy Ilyitch had not got much beyond those political men of the days +of Alexander, who used to prepare for an evening party at Madame +Svyetchin's by reading a page of Condillac; only his methods were +different, more modern. He was an adroit courtier, a great hypocrite, +and nothing more; he had no special aptitude for affairs, and no +intellect, but he knew how to manage his own business successfully; no +one could get the better of him there, and, to be sure, that's the +principal thing.</p> + +<p>Matvy Ilyitch received Arkady with the good-nature, we might even call +it playfulness, characteristic of the enlightened higher official. He +was astonished, however, when he heard that the cousins he had invited +had remained at home in the country. 'Your father was always a queer +fellow,' he remarked, playing with the tassels of his magnificent +velvet dressing-gown, and suddenly turning to a young official in a +discreetly buttoned-up uniform, he cried, with an air of concentrated +attention, 'What?' The young man, whose lips were glued together from +prolonged silence, got up and looked in perplexity at his chief. But, +having nonplussed his subordinate, Matvy Ilyitch paid him no further +attention. Our higher officials are fond as a rule of nonplussing their +subordinates; the methods to which they have recourse to attain that +end are rather various. The following means, among others, is in great +vogue, <i>'is quite a favourite,'</i> as the English say; a high official +suddenly ceases to understand the simplest words, assuming total +deafness. He will ask, for instance, What's to-day?'</p> + +<p>He is respectfully informed, 'To-day's Friday, your Ex-s-s-s-lency.'</p> + +<p>'Eh? What? What's that? What do you say?' the great man repeats with +intense attention.</p> + +<p>'To-day's Friday, your Ex—s—s—lency.'</p> + +<p>'Eh? What? What's Friday? What Friday?'</p> + +<p>'Friday, your Ex—s—s—s—lency, the day of the week.'</p> + +<p>'What, do you pretend to teach me, eh?'</p> + +<p>Matvy Ilyitch was a higher official all the same, though he was +reckoned a liberal.</p> + +<p>'I advise you, my dear boy, to go and call on the Governor,' he said to +Arkady; 'you understand, I don't advise you to do so because I adhere +to old-fashioned ideas of the necessity of paying respect to +authorities, but simply because the Governor's a very decent fellow; +besides, you probably want to make acquaintance with the society +here.... You're not a bear, I hope? And he's giving a great ball the +day after to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>'Will you be at the ball?' inquired Arkady.</p> + +<p>'He gives it in my honour,' answered Matvy Ilyitch, almost pityingly. +'Do you dance?'</p> + +<p>'Yes; I dance, but not well.'</p> + +<p>'That's a pity! There are pretty girls here, and it's a disgrace for a +young man not to dance. Again, I don't say that through any +old-fashioned ideas; I don't in the least imagine that a man's wit lies +in his feet, but Byronism is ridiculous, <i>il a fait son temps.'</i></p> + +<p>'But, uncle, it's not through Byronism, I ...'</p> + +<p>'I will introduce you to the ladies here; I will take you under my +wing,' interrupted Matvy Ilyitch, and he laughed complacently. 'You'll +find it warm, eh?'</p> + +<p>A servant entered and announced the arrival of the superintendent of +the Crown domains, a mild-eyed old man, with deep creases round his +mouth, who was excessively fond of nature, especially on a summer day, +when, in his words, 'every little busy bee takes a little bribe from +every little flower.' Arkady withdrew.</p> + +<p>He found Bazarov at the tavern where they were staying, and was a long +while persuading him to go with him to the Governor's. 'Well, there's +no help for it,' said Bazarov at last. 'It's no good doing things by +halves. We came to look at the gentry; let's look at them!'</p> + +<p>The Governor received the young men affably, but he did not ask them to +sit down, nor did he sit down himself. He was in an everlasting fuss +and hurry; in the morning he used to put on a tight uniform and an +excessively stiff cravat; he never ate or drank enough; he was for ever +making arrangements. He invited Kirsanov and Bazarov to his ball, and +within a few minutes invited them a second time, regarding them as +brothers, and calling them Kisarov.</p> + +<p>They were on their way home from the Governor's, when suddenly a short +man, in a Slavophil national dress, leaped out of a trap that was +passing them, and crying, 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' dashed up to Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Ah! it's you, Herr Sitnikov,' observed Bazarov, still stepping along +on the pavement; 'by what chance did you come here?'</p> + +<p>'Fancy, absolutely by chance,' he replied, and returning to the trap, +he waved his hand several times, and shouted, 'Follow, follow us! My +father had business here,' he went on, hopping across the gutter, 'and +so he asked me.... I heard to-day of your arrival, and have already +been to see you....' (The friends did, in fact, on returning to their +room, find there a card, with the corners turned down, bearing the name +of Sitnikov, on one side in French, on the other in Slavonic +characters.) 'I hope you are not coming from the Governor's?'</p> + +<p>'It's no use to hope; we come straight from him.'</p> + +<p>'Ah! in that case I will call on him too.... Yevgeny Vassilyitch, +introduce me to your ... to the ...'</p> + +<p>'Sitnikov, Kirsanov,' mumbled Bazarov, not stopping.</p> + +<p>'I am greatly flattered,' began Sitnikov, walking sidewise, smirking, +and hurriedly pulling off his really over-elegant gloves. 'I have heard +so much.... I am an old acquaintance of Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and, I may +say—his disciple. I am indebted to him for my regeneration....'</p> + +<p>Arkady looked at Bazarov's disciple. There was an expression of +excitement and dulness imprinted on the small but pleasant features of +his well-groomed face; his small eyes, that seemed squeezed in, had a +fixed and uneasy look, and his laugh, too, was uneasy—a sort of short, +wooden laugh.</p> + +<p>'Would you believe it,' he pursued, 'when Yevgeny Vassilyitch for the +first time said before me that it was not right to accept any +authorities, I felt such enthusiasm ... as though my eyes were opened! +Here, I thought, at last I have found a man! By the way, Yevgeny +Vassilyitch, you positively must come to know a lady here, who is +really capable of understanding you, and for whom your visit would be a +real festival; you have heard of her, I suppose?'</p> + +<p>'Who is it?' Bazarov brought out unwillingly.</p> + +<p>'Kukshina, <i>Eudoxie</i>, Evdoksya Kukshin. She's a remarkable nature, +<i>émancipée</i> in the true sense of the word, an advanced woman. Do you +know what? We'll all go together to see her now. She lives only two +steps from here. We will have lunch there. I suppose you have not +lunched yet?'</p> + +<p>'No; not yet.'</p> + +<p>'Well, that's capital. She has separated, you understand, from her +husband; she is not dependent on any one.'</p> + +<p>'Is she pretty?' Bazarov cut in.</p> + +<p>'N-no, one couldn't say that.'</p> + +<p>'Then, what the devil are you asking us to see her for?'</p> + +<p>'Fie; you must have your joke.... She will give us a bottle of +champagne.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, that's it. One can see the practical man at once. By the way, is +your father still in the gin business?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Sitnikov, hurriedly, and he gave a shrill spasmodic laugh. +'Well? Will you come?'</p> + +<p>'I don't really know.'</p> + +<p>'You wanted to see people, go along,' said Arkady in an undertone.</p> + +<p>'And what do you say to it, Mr. Kirsanov?' Sitnikov put in. 'You must +come too; we can't go without you.'</p> + +<p>'But how can we burst in upon her all at once?'</p> + +<p>'That's no matter. Kukshina's a brick!'</p> + +<p>'There will be a bottle of champagne?' asked Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Three!' cried Sitnikov; 'that I answer for.'</p> + +<p>'What with?'</p> + +<p>'My own head.'</p> + +<p>'Your father's purse would be better. However, we are coming.'</p> +<br><a name="chap13"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XIII</h4> +<br> + +<p>The small gentleman's house in the Moscow style, in which Avdotya +Nikitishna, otherwise Evdoksya, Kukshin, lived, was in one of the +streets of X——, which had been lately burnt down; it is well known +that our provincial towns are burnt down every five years. At the door, +above a visiting card nailed on all askew, there was a bell-handle to +be seen, and in the hall the visitors were met by some one, not exactly +a servant, nor exactly a companion, in a cap—unmistakable tokens of +the progressive tendencies of the lady of the house. Sitnikov inquired +whether Avdotya Nikitishna was at home.</p> + +<p>'Is that you, <i>Victor?'</i> sounded a shrill voice from the adjoining +room. 'Come in.'</p> + +<p>The woman in the cap disappeared at once.</p> + +<p>'I'm not alone,' observed Sitnikov, with a sharp look at Arkady and +Bazarov as he briskly pulled off his overcoat, beneath which appeared +something of the nature of a coachman's velvet jacket.</p> + +<p>'No matter,' answered the voice. <i>'Entrez.'</i></p> + +<p>The young men went in. The room into which they walked was more like a +working study than a drawing-room. Papers, letters, fat numbers of +Russian journals, for the most part uncut, lay at random on the dusty +tables; white cigarette ends lay scattered in every direction. On a +leather-covered sofa, a lady, still young, was half reclining. Her fair +hair was rather dishevelled; she wore a silk gown, not perfectly tidy, +heavy bracelets on her short arms, and a lace handkerchief on her head. +She got up from the sofa, and carelessly drawing a velvet cape trimmed +with yellowish ermine over her shoulders, she said languidly, +'Good-morning, <i>Victor,'</i> and pressed Sitnikov's hand.</p> + +<p>'Bazarov, Kirsanov,' he announced abruptly in imitation of Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Delighted,' answered Madame Kukshin, and fixing on Bazarov a pair of +round eyes, between which was a forlorn little turned-up red nose, 'I +know you,' she added, and pressed his hand too.</p> + +<p>Bazarov scowled. There was nothing repulsive in the little plain person +of the emancipated woman; but the expression of her face produced a +disagreeable effect on the spectator. One felt impelled to ask her, +'What's the matter; are you hungry? Or bored? Or shy? What are you in a +fidget about?' Both she and Sitnikov had always the same uneasy air. +She was extremely unconstrained, and at the same time awkward; she +obviously regarded herself as a good-natured, simple creature, and all +the while, whatever she did, it always struck one that it was not just +what she wanted to do; everything with her seemed, as children say, +done on purpose, that's to say, not simply, not naturally.</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes, I know you, Bazarov,' she repeated. (She had the +habit—peculiar to many provincial and Moscow ladies—of calling men by +their surnames from the first day of acquaintance with them.) 'Will you +have a cigar?'</p> + +<p>'A cigar's all very well,' put in Sitnikov, who by now was lolling in +an armchair, his legs in the air; 'but give us some lunch. We're +awfully hungry; and tell them to bring us up a little bottle of +champagne.'</p> + +<p>'Sybarite,' commented Evdoksya, and she laughed. (When she laughed the +gum showed above her upper teeth.) 'Isn't it true, Bazarov; he's a +Sybarite?'</p> + +<p>'I like comfort in life,' Sitnikov brought out, with dignity. 'That +does not prevent my being a Liberal.'</p> + +<p>'No, it does; it does prevent it!' cried Evdoksya. She gave directions, +however, to her maid, both as regards the lunch and the champagne.</p> + +<p>'What do you think about it?' she added, turning to Bazarov. 'I'm +persuaded you share my opinion.'</p> + +<p>'Well, no,' retorted Bazarov; 'a piece of meat's better than a piece of +bread even from the chemical point of view.'</p> + +<p>'You are studying chemistry? That is my passion. I've even invented a +new sort of composition myself.'</p> + +<p>'A composition? You?'</p> + +<p>'Yes. And do you know for what purpose? To make dolls' heads so that +they shouldn't break. I'm practical, too, yon see. But everything's not +quite ready yet. I've still to read Liebig. By the way, have you read +Kislyakov's article on Female Labour, in the <i>Moscow Gazette?</i> Read it +please. You're interested in the woman question, I suppose? And in the +schools too? What does your friend do? What is his name?'</p> + +<p>Madame Kukshin shed her questions one after another with affected +negligence, not waiting for an answer; spoilt children talk so to their +nurses.</p> + +<p>'My name's Arkady Nikolaitch Kirsanov,' said Arkady, 'and I'm doing +nothing.'</p> + +<p>Evdoksya giggled. 'How charming! What, don't you smoke? Victor, do you +know, I'm very angry with you.'</p> + +<p>'What for?'</p> + +<p>'They tell me you've begun singing the praises of George Sand again. A +retrograde woman, and nothing else! How can people compare her with +Emerson! She hasn't an idea on education, nor physiology, nor anything. +She'd never, I'm persuaded, heard of embryology, and in these +days—what can be done without that?' (Evdoksya even threw up her +hands.) 'Ah, what a wonderful article Elisyevitch has written on that +subject! He's a gentleman of genius.' (Evdoksya constantly made use of +the word 'gentleman' instead of the word 'man.') 'Bazarov, sit by me on +the sofa. You don't know, perhaps, I'm awfully afraid of you.'</p> + +<p>'Why so? Allow me to ask.'</p> + +<p>'You're a dangerous gentleman; you're such a critic. Good God! yes! +why, how absurd, I'm talking like some country lady. I really am a +country lady, though. I manage my property myself; and only fancy, my +bailiff Erofay's a wonderful type, quite like Cooper's Pathfinder; +something in him so spontaneous! I've come to settle here finally; it's +an intolerable town, isn't it? But what's one to do?'</p> + +<p>'The town's like every town,' Bazarov remarked coolly.</p> + +<p>'All its interests are so petty, that's what's so awful! I used to +spend the winters in Moscow ... but now my lawful spouse, Monsieur +Kukshin's residing there. And besides, Moscow nowadays ... there, I +don't know—it's not the same as it was. I'm thinking of going abroad; +last year I was on the point of setting off.'</p> + +<p>'To Paris, I suppose?' queried Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'To Paris and to Heidelberg.'</p> + +<p>'Why to Heidelberg?'</p> + +<p>'How can you ask? Why, Bunsen's there!'</p> + +<p>To this Bazarov could find no reply.</p> + +<p><i>'Pierre</i> Sapozhnikov ... do you know him?'</p> + +<p>'No, I don't.'</p> + +<p>'Not know <i>Pierre</i> Sapozhnikov ... he's always at Lidia Hestatov's.'</p> + +<p>'I don't know her either.'</p> + +<p>'Well, it was he undertook to escort me. Thank God, I'm independent; +I've no children.... What was that I said: <i>thank God!</i> It's no matter +though.'</p> + +<p>Evdoksya rolled a cigarette up between her fingers, which were brown +with tobacco stains, put it to her tongue, licked it up, and began +smoking. The maid came in with a tray.</p> + +<p>'Ah, here's lunch! Will you have an appetiser first? Victor, open the +bottle; that's in your line.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, it's in my line,' muttered Sitnikov, and again he gave vent to +the same convulsive laugh.</p> + +<p>'Are there any pretty women here?' inquired Bazarov, as he drank off a +third glass.</p> + +<p>'Yes, there are,' answered Evdoksya; 'but they're all such empty-headed +creatures. <i>Mon amie,</i> Odintsova, for instance, is nice-looking. It's a +pity her reputation's rather doubtful.... That wouldn't matter, though, +but she's no independence in her views, no width, nothing ... of all +that. The whole system of education wants changing. I've thought a +great deal about it, our women are very badly educated.'</p> + +<p>'There's no doing anything with them,' put in Sitnikov; 'one ought to +despise them, and I do despise them fully and completely!' (The +possibility of feeling and expressing contempt was the most agreeable +sensation to Sitnikov; he used to attack women in especial, never +suspecting that it was to be his fate a few months later to be cringing +before his wife merely because she had been born a princess +Durdoleosov.) 'Not a single one of them would be capable of +understanding our conversation; not a single one deserves to be spoken +of by serious men like us!'</p> + +<p>'But there's not the least need for them to understand our +conversation,' observed Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Whom do you mean?' put in Evdoksya.</p> + +<p>'Pretty women.'</p> + +<p>'What? Do you adopt Proudhon's ideas, then?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. 'I don't adopt any one's ideas; I +have my own.'</p> + +<p>'Damn all authorities!' shouted Sitnikov, delighted to have a chance of +expressing himself boldly before the man he slavishly admired.</p> + +<p>'But even Macaulay,' Madame Kukshin was beginning ...</p> + +<p>'Damn Macaulay,' thundered Sitnikov. 'Are you going to stand up for the +silly hussies?'</p> + +<p>'For silly hussies, no, but for the rights of women, which I have sworn +to defend to the last drop of my blood.'</p> + +<p>'Damn!'—but here Sitnikov stopped. 'But I don't deny them,' he said.</p> + +<p>'No, I see you're a Slavophil.'</p> + +<p>'No, I'm not a Slavophil, though, of course ...'</p> + +<p>'No, no, no! You are a Slavophil. You're an advocate of patriarchal +despotism. You want to have the whip in your hand!'</p> + +<p>'A whip's an excellent thing,' remarked Bazarov; 'but we've got to the +last drop.'</p> + +<p>'Of what?' interrupted Evdoksya.</p> + +<p>'Of champagne, most honoured Avdotya Nikitishna, of champagne—not of +your blood.'</p> + +<p>'I can never listen calmly when women are attacked,' pursued Evdoksya. +'It's awful, awful. Instead of attacking them, you'd better read +Michelet's book, <i>De l'amour</i>. That's exquisite! Gentlemen, let us talk +of love,' added Evdoksya, letting her arm fall languidly on the rumpled +sofa cushion.</p> + +<p>A sudden silence followed. 'No, why should we talk of love,' said +Bazarov; 'but you mentioned just now a Madame Odintsov ... That was +what you called her, I think? Who is that lady?'</p> + +<p>'She's charming, charming!' piped Sitnikov. 'I will introduce you. +Clever, rich, a widow. It's a pity, she's not yet advanced enough; she +ought to see more of our Evdoksya. I drink to your health, <i>Evdoxie!</i> +Let us clink glasses! <i>Et toc, et toc, et tin-tin-tin! Et toc, et toc, +et tin-tin-tin!!!'</i></p> + +<p>'Victor, you're a wretch.'</p> + +<p>The lunch dragged on a long while. The first bottle of champagne was +followed by another, a third, and even a fourth.... Evdoksya chattered +without pause; Sitnikov seconded her. They had much discussion upon the +question whether marriage was a prejudice or a crime, and whether men +were born equal or not, and precisely what individuality consists in. +Things came at last to Evdoksya, flushed from the wine she had drunk, +tapping with her flat finger-tips on the keys of a discordant piano, +and beginning to sing in a hoarse voice, first gipsy songs, and then +Seymour Schiff's song, 'Granada lies slumbering'; while Sitnikov tied a +scarf round his head, and represented the dying lover at the words—</p> + +<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem2"> + <tr><td><small>'And thy lips to mine<br> + In burning kiss entwine.'</small></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>Arkady could not stand it at last. 'Gentlemen, it's getting something +like Bedlam,' he remarked aloud. Bazarov, who had at rare intervals put +in an ironical word in the conversation—he paid more attention to the +champagne—gave a loud yawn, got up, and, without taking leave of their +hostess, he walked off with Arkady. Sitnikov jumped up and followed +them.</p> + +<p>'Well, what do you think of her?' he inquired, skipping obsequiously +from right to left of them. 'I told you, you see, a remarkable +personality! If we only had more women like that! She is, in her own +way, an expression of the highest morality.'</p> + +<p>'And is that establishment of your governor's an expression of the +highest morality too?' observed Bazarov, pointing to a ginshop which +they were passing at that instant.</p> + +<p>Sitnikov again went off into a shrill laugh. He was greatly ashamed of +his origin, and did not know whether to feel flattered or offended at +Bazarov's unexpected familiarity.</p> +<br><a name="chap14"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XIV</h4> +<br> + +<p>A few days later the ball at the Governor's took place. Matvy Ilyitch +was the real 'hero of the occasion.' The marshal of nobility declared +to all and each that he had come simply out of respect for him; while +the Governor, even at the ball, even while he remained perfectly +motionless, was still 'making arrangements.' The affability of Matvy +Ilyitch's demeanour could only be equalled by its dignity. He was +gracious to all, to some with a shade of disgust, to others with a +shade of respect; he was all bows and smiles <i>'en vrai chevalier +français'</i> before the ladies, and was continually giving vent to a +hearty, sonorous, unshared laugh, such as befits a high official. He +slapped Arkady on the back, and called him loudly 'nephew'; vouchsafed +Bazarov—who was attired in a rather old evening coat—a sidelong +glance in passing—absent but condescending—and an indistinct but +affable grunt, in which nothing could be distinguished but 'I ...' and +'very much'; gave Sitnikov a finger and a smile, though with his head +already averted; even to Madame Kukshin, who made her appearance at the +ball with dirty gloves, no crinoline, and a bird of Paradise in her +hair, he said <i>'enchanté.'</i>. There were crowds of people, and no lack of +dancing men; the civilians were for the most part standing close along +the walls, but the officers danced assiduously, especially one of them +who had spent six weeks in Paris, where he had mastered various daring +interjections of the kind of—<i>'zut,' 'Ah, fichtr-re,' 'pst, pst, +mon bibi,'</i> and such. He pronounced them to perfection with genuine +Parisian <i>chic,</i> and at the same time he said <i>'si j'aurais'</i> for <i>'si +j'avais,' 'absolument'</i> in the sense of 'absolutely,' expressed +himself, in fact, in that Great Russo-French jargon which the French +ridicule so when they have no reason for assuring us that we speak +French like angels, <i>'comme des anges.'</i></p> + +<p>Arkady, as we are aware, danced badly, while Bazarov did not dance at +all; they both took up their position in a corner; Sitnikov joined +himself on to them, with an expression of contemptuous scorn on his +face, and giving vent to spiteful comments, he looked insolently about +him, and seemed to be really enjoying himself. Suddenly his face +changed, and turning to Arkady, he said, with some show of +embarrassment it seemed, 'Odintsova is here!'</p> + +<p>Arkady looked round, and saw a tall woman in a black dress standing at +the door of the room. He was struck by the dignity of her carriage. Her +bare arms lay gracefully beside her slender waist; gracefully some +light sprays of fuchsia drooped from her shining hair on to her sloping +shoulders; her clear eyes looked out from under a rather overhanging +white brow, with a tranquil and intelligent expression—tranquil it was +precisely, not pensive—and on her lips was a scarcely perceptible +smile. There was a kind of gracious and gentle force about her face.</p> + +<p>'Do you know her?' Arkady asked Sitnikov.</p> + +<p>'Intimately. Would you like me to introduce you?'</p> + +<p>'Please ... after this quadrille.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov's attention, too, was directed to Madame Odintsov.</p> + +<p>'That's a striking figure,' he remarked. 'Not like the other females.'</p> + +<p>After waiting till the end of the quadrille, Sitnikov led Arkady up to +Madame Odintsov; but he hardly seemed to be intimately acquainted with +her; he was embarrassed in his sentences, while she looked at him in +some surprise. But her face assumed an expression of pleasure when she +heard Arkady's surname. She asked him whether he was not the son of +Nikolai Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'I have seen your father twice, and have heard a great deal about him,' +she went on; 'I am glad to make your acquaintance.'</p> + +<p>At that instant some adjutant flew up to her and begged for a +quadrille. She consented.</p> + +<p>'Do you dance then?' asked Arkady respectfully.</p> + +<p>'Yes, I dance. Why do you suppose I don't dance? Do you think I am too +old?'</p> + +<p>'Really, how could I possibly.... But in that case, let me ask you for +a mazurka.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov smiled graciously. 'Certainly,' she said, and she +looked at Arkady not exactly with an air of superiority, but as married +sisters look at very young brothers. Madame Odintsov was a little older +than Arkady—she was twenty-nine—but in her presence he felt himself a +schoolboy, a little student, so that the difference in age between them +seemed of more consequence. Matvy Ilyitch approached her with a +majestic air and ingratiating speeches. Arkady moved away, but he still +watched her; he could not take his eyes off her even during the +quadrille. She talked with equal ease to her partner and to the grand +official, softly turned her head and eyes, and twice laughed softly. +Her nose—like almost all Russian noses—was a little thick; and her +complexion was not perfectly clear; Arkady made up his mind, for all +that, that he had never before met such an attractive woman. He could +not get the sound of her voice out of his ears; the very folds of her +dress seemed to hang upon her differently from all the rest—more +gracefully and amply—and her movements were distinguished by a +peculiar smoothness and naturalness.</p> + +<p>Arkady felt some timidity in his heart when at the first sounds of the +mazurka he began to sit it out beside his partner; he had prepared to +enter into a conversation with her, but he only passed his hand through +his hair, and could not find a single word to say. But his timidity and +agitation did not last long; Madame Odintsov's tranquillity gained upon +him too; before a quarter of an hour had passed he was telling her +freely about his father, his uncle, his life in Petersburg and in the +country. Madame Odintsov listened to him with courteous sympathy, +slightly opening and closing her fan; his talk was broken off when +partners came for her; Sitnikov, among others, twice asked her. She +came back, sat down again, took up her fan, and her bosom did not even +heave more rapidly, while Arkady fell to chattering again, filled +through and through by the happiness of being near her, talking to her, +looking at her eyes, her lovely brow, all her sweet, dignified, clever +face. She said little, but her words showed a knowledge of life; from +some of her observations Arkady gathered that this young woman had +already felt and thought much....</p> + +<p>'Who is that you were standing with?' she asked him, 'when Mr. Sitnikov +brought you to me?'</p> + +<p>'Did you notice him?' Arkady asked in his turn. 'He has a splendid +face, hasn't he? That's Bazarov, my friend.'</p> + +<p>Arkady fell to discussing 'his friend.' He spoke of him in such detail, +and with such enthusiasm, that Madame Odintsov turned towards him and +looked attentively at him. Meanwhile, the mazurka was drawing to a +close. Arkady felt sorry to part from his partner; he had spent nearly +an hour so happily with her! He had, it is true, during the whole time +continually felt as though she were condescending to him, as though he +ought to be grateful to her ... but young hearts are not weighed down +by that feeling.</p> + +<p>The music stopped. <i>'Merci,'</i> said Madame Odintsov, getting up. 'You +promised to come and see me; bring your friend with you. I shall be +very curious to see the man who has the courage to believe in nothing.'</p> + +<p>The Governor came up to Madame Odintsov, announced that supper was +ready, and, with a careworn face, offered her his arm. As she went +away, she turned to give a last smile and bow to Arkady. He bowed low, +looked after her (how graceful her figure seemed to him, draped in the +greyish lustre of the black silk!), and thinking, 'This minute she has +forgotten my existence,' was conscious of an exquisite humility in his +soul.</p> + +<p>'Well?' Bazarov questioned him, directly he had gone back to him in the +corner. 'Did you have a good time? A gentleman has just been talking to +me about that lady; he said, "She's—oh, fie! fie!" but I fancy the +fellow was a fool. What do you think, what is she?—oh, fie! fie!'</p> + +<p>'I don't quite understand that definition,' answered Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Oh, my! What innocence!'</p> + +<p>'In that case, I don't understand the gentleman you quote. Madame +Odintsov is very sweet, no doubt, but she behaves so coldly and +severely, that....'</p> + +<p>'Still waters ... you know!' put in Bazarov. 'That's just what gives it +piquancy. You like ices, I expect?'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps,' muttered Arkady. 'I can't give an opinion about that. She +wishes to make your acquaintance, and has asked me to bring you to see +her.'</p> + +<p>'I can imagine how you've described me! But you did very well. Take me. +Whatever she may be—whether she's simply a provincial lioness, or +"advanced" after Kukshina's fashion—any way she's got a pair of +shoulders such as I've not set eyes on for a long while.'</p> + +<p>Arkady was wounded by Bazarov's cynicism, but—as often happens—he +reproached his friend not precisely for what he did not like in him ...</p> + +<p>'Why are you unwilling to allow freethinking in women?' he said in a +low voice.</p> + +<p>'Because, my boy, as far as my observations go, the only freethinkers +among women are frights.'</p> + +<p>The conversation was cut short at this point. Both the young men went +away immediately after supper. They were pursued by a nervously +malicious, but somewhat faint-hearted laugh from Madame Kukshin; her +vanity had been deeply wounded by neither of them having paid any +attention to her. She stayed later than any one at the ball, and at +four o'clock in the morning she was dancing a polka-mazurka with +Sitnikov in the Parisian style. This edifying spectacle was the final +event of the Governor's ball.</p> +<br><a name="chap15"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XV</h4> +<br> + +<p>'Let's see what species of mammalia this specimen belongs to,' Bazarov +said to Arkady the following day, as they mounted the staircase of the +hotel in which Madame Odintsov was staying. 'I scent out something +wrong here.'</p> + +<p>'I'm surprised at you!' cried Arkady. 'What? You, you, Bazarov, +clinging to the narrow morality, which ...'</p> + +<p>'What a funny fellow you are!' Bazarov cut him short, carelessly. +'Don't you know that "something wrong" means "something right" in my +dialect and for me? It's an advantage for me, of course. Didn't you +tell me yourself this morning that she made a strange marriage, though, +to my mind, to marry a rich old man is by no means a strange thing to +do, but, on the contrary, very sensible. I don't believe the gossip of +the town; but I should like to think, as our cultivated Governor says, +that it's well-grounded.'</p> + +<p>Arkady made no answer, and knocked at the door of the apartments. A +young servant in livery, conducted the two friends in to a large room, +badly furnished, like all rooms in Russian hotels, but filled with +flowers. Soon Madame Odintsov herself appeared in a simple morning +dress. She seemed still younger by the light of the spring sunshine. +Arkady presented Bazarov, and noticed with secret amazement that he +seemed embarrassed, while Madame Odintsov remained perfectly tranquil, +as she had been the previous day. Bazarov himself was conscious of +being embarrassed, and was irritated by it. 'Here's a go!—frightened +of a petticoat!' he thought, and lolling, quite like Sitnikov, in an +easy-chair, he began talking with an exaggerated appearance of ease, +while Madame Odintsov kept her clear eyes fixed on him.</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna Odintsov was the daughter of Sergay Nikolaevitch Loktev, +notorious for his personal beauty, his speculations, and his gambling +propensities, who after cutting a figure and making a sensation for +fifteen years in Petersburg and Moscow, finished by ruining himself +completely at cards, and was forced to retire to the country, where, +however, he soon after died, leaving a very small property to his two +daughters—Anna, a girl of twenty, and Katya, a child of twelve. Their +mother, who came of an impoverished line of princes—the H——s— had +died at Petersburg when her husband was in his heydey. Anna's position +after her father's death was very difficult. The brilliant education +she had received in Petersburg had not fitted her for putting up with +the cares of domestic life and economy,—for an obscure existence in +the country. She knew positively no one in the whole neighbourhood, and +there was no one she could consult. Her father had tried to avoid all +contact with the neighbours; he despised them in his way, and they +despised him in theirs. She did not lose her head, however, and +promptly sent for a sister of her mother's Princess Avdotya Stepanovna +H——, a spiteful and arrogant old lady, who, on installing herself in +her niece's house, appropriated all the best rooms for her own use, +scolded and grumbled from morning till night, and would not go a walk +even in the garden unattended by her one serf, a surly footman in a +threadbare pea-green livery with light blue trimming and a +three-cornered hat. Anna put up patiently with all her aunt's whims, +gradually set to work on her sister's education, and was, it seemed, +already getting reconciled to the idea of wasting her life in the +wilds.... But destiny had decreed another fate for her. She chanced to +be seen by Odintsov, a very wealthy man of forty-six, an eccentric +hypochondriac, stout, heavy, and sour, but not stupid, and not +ill-natured; he fell in love with her, and offered her his hand. She +consented to become his wife, and he lived six years with her, and on +his death settled all his property upon her. Anna Sergyevna remained in +the country for nearly a year after his death; then she went abroad +with her sister, but only stopped in Germany; she got tired of it, and +came back to live at her favourite Nikolskoe, which was nearly thirty +miles from the town of X——. There she had a magnificent, splendidly +furnished house and a beautiful garden, with conservatories; her late +husband had spared no expense to gratify his fancies. Anna Sergyevna went +very rarely to the town, generally only on +business, and even then she did not stay long. She was not liked in the +province; there had been a fearful outcry at her marriage with +Odintsov, all sorts of fictions were told about her; it was asserted +that she had helped her father in his cardsharping tricks, and even +that she had gone abroad for excellent reasons, that it had been +necessary to conceal the lamentable consequences ... 'You understand?' +the indignant gossips would wind up. 'She has gone through the fire,' +was said of her; to which a noted provincial wit usually added: 'And +through all the other elements?' All this talk reached her; but she +turned a deaf ear to it; there was much independence and a good deal of +determination in her character.</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov sat leaning back in her easy-chair, and listened with +folded hands to Bazarov. He, contrary to his habit, was talking a good +deal, and obviously trying to interest her—again a surprise for +Arkady. He could not make up his mind whether Bazarov was attaining his +object. It was difficult to conjecture from Anna Sergyevna's face what +impression was being made on her; it retained the same expression, +gracious and refined; her beautiful eyes were lighted up by attention, +but by quiet attention. Bazarov's bad manners had impressed her +unpleasantly for the first minutes of the visit like a bad smell or a +discordant sound; but she saw at once that he was nervous, and that +even flattered her. Nothing was repulsive to her but vulgarity, and no +one could have accused Bazarov of vulgarity. Arkady was fated to meet +with surprises that day. He had expected that Bazarov would talk to a +clever woman like Madame Odintsov about his opinions and his views; she +had herself expressed a desire to listen to the man 'who dares to have +no belief in anything'; but, instead of that, Bazarov talked about +medicine, about homoeopathy, and about botany. It turned out that Madame +Odintsov had not wasted her time in solitude; she had read a good many +excellent books, and spoke herself in excellent Russian. She turned the +conversation upon music; but noticing that Bazarov did not appreciate +art, she quietly brought it back to botany, even though Arkady was just +launching into a discourse upon the significance of national melodies. +Madame Odintsov treated him as though he were a younger brother; she +seemed to appreciate his good-nature and youthful simplicity—and that +was all. For over three hours, a lively conversation was kept up, +ranging freely over various subjects.</p> + +<p>The friends at last got up and began to take leave. Anna Sergyevna +looked cordially at them, held out her beautiful, white hand to both, +and, after a moment's thought, said with a doubtful but delightful +smile. 'If you are not afraid of being dull, gentlemen, come and see me +at Nikolskoe.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, Anna Sergyevna,' cried Arkady, 'I shall think it the greatness +happiness ...'</p> + +<p>'And you, Monsieur Bazarov?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov only bowed, and a last surprise was in store for Arkady; he +noticed that his friend was blushing.</p> + +<p>'Well?' he said to him in the street; 'are you still of the same +opinion—that she's ...'</p> + +<p>'Who can tell? See how correct she is!' retorted Bazarov; and after a +brief pause he added, 'She's a perfect grand-duchess, a royal +personage. She only needs a train on behind, and a crown on her head.'</p> + +<p>'Our grand-duchesses don't talk Russian like that,' remarked Arkady.</p> + +<p>'She's seen ups and downs, my dear boy; she's known what it is to be +hard up!'</p> + +<p>'Any way, she's charming,' observed Arkady.</p> + +<p>'What a magnificent body!' pursued Bazarov. 'Shouldn't I like to see it +on the dissecting-table.'</p> + +<p>'Hush, for mercy's sake, Yevgeny! that's beyond everything.'</p> + +<p>'Well, don't get angry, you baby. I meant it's first-rate. We must go +to stay with her.'</p> + +<p>'When?'</p> + +<p>'Well, why not the day after to-morrow. What is there to do here? Drink +champagne with Kukshina. Listen to your cousin, the Liberal +dignitary?... Let's be off the day after to-morrow. By the way, too—my +father's little place is not far from there. This Nikolskoe's on the +S—— road, isn't it?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Optime, why hesitate? leave that to fools and prigs! I say, what a +splendid body!'</p> + +<p>Three days later the two friends were driving along the road to +Nikolskoe. The day was bright, and not too hot, and the sleek +posting-horses trotted smartly along, switching their tied and plaited +tails. Arkady looked at the road, and not knowing why, he smiled.</p> + +<p>'Congratulate me,' cried Bazarov suddenly, 'to-day's the 22nd of June, +my guardian angel's day. Let's see how he will watch over me. To-day +they expect me home,' he added, dropping his voice.... 'Well, they can +go on expecting.... What does it matter!'</p> +<br><a name="chap16"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XVI</h4> +<br> + +<p>The country-house in which Anna Sergyevna lived stood on an exposed +hill at no great distance from a yellow stone church with a green roof, +white columns, and a fresco over the principal entrance representing +the 'Resurrection of Christ' in the 'Italian' style. Sprawling in the +foreground of the picture was a swarthy warrior in a helmet, specially +conspicuous for his rotund contours. Behind the church a long village +stretched in two rows, with chimneys peeping out here and there above +the thatched roofs. The manor-house was built in the same style as the +church, the style known among us as that of Alexander; the house too +was painted yellow, and had a green roof, and white columns, and a +pediment with an escutcheon on it. The architect had designed both +buildings with the approval of the deceased Odintsov, who could not +endure—as he expressed it—idle and arbitrary innovations. The house +was enclosed on both sides by the dark trees of an old garden; an +avenue of lopped pines led up to the entrance.</p> + +<p>Our friends were met in the hall by two tall footmen in livery; one of +them at once ran for the steward. The steward, a stout man in a black +dress coat, promptly appeared and led the visitors by a staircase +covered with rugs to a special room, in which two bedsteads were +already prepared for them with all necessaries for the toilet. It was +clear that order reigned supreme in the house; everything was clean, +everywhere there was a peculiar delicate fragrance, just as there is in +the reception rooms of ministers.</p> + +<p>'Anna Sergyevna asks you to come to her in half-an-hour,' the steward +announced; 'will there be orders to give meanwhile?'</p> + +<p>'No orders,' answered Bazarov; 'perhaps you will be so good as to +trouble yourself to bring me a glass of vodka.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, sir,' said the steward, looking in some perplexity, and he +withdrew, his boots creaking as he walked.</p> + +<p>'What <i>grand genre!'</i> remarked Bazarov. 'That's what it's called in +your set, isn't it? She's a grand-duchess, and that's all about it.'</p> + +<p>'A nice grand-duchess,' retorted Arkady, 'at the very first meeting she +invited such great aristocrats as you and me to stay with her.'</p> + +<p>'Especially me, a future doctor, and a doctor's son, and a village +sexton's grandson.... You know, I suppose, I'm the grandson of a +sexton? Like the great Speransky,' added Bazarov after a brief pause, +contracting his lips. 'At any rate she likes to be comfortable; oh, +doesn't she, this lady! Oughtn't we to put on evening dress?'</p> + +<p>Arkady only shrugged his shoulders ... but he too was conscious of a +little nervousness.</p> + +<p>Half-an-hour later Bazarov and Arkady went together into the +drawing-room. It was a large lofty room, furnished rather luxuriously +but without particularly good taste. Heavy expensive furniture stood in +the ordinary stiff arrangement along the walls, which were covered with +cinnamon-coloured paper with gold flowers on it; Odintsov had ordered +the furniture from Moscow through a friend and agent of his, a spirit +merchant. Over a sofa in the centre of one wall hung a portrait of a +faded light-haired man—and it seemed to look with displeasure at the +visitors. 'It must be the late lamented,' Bazarov whispered to Arkady, +and turning up his nose, he added, 'Hadn't we better bolt ...?' But at +that instant the lady of the house entered. She wore a light barège +dress; her hair smoothly combed back behind her ears gave a girlish +expression to her pure and fresh face.</p> + +<p>'Thank you for keeping your promise,' she began. 'You must stay a little +while with me; it's really not bad here. I will introduce you to my +sister; she plays the piano well. That is a matter of indifference to +you, Monsieur Bazarov; but you, I think, Monsieur Kirsanov, are fond of +music. Besides my sister I have an old aunt living with me, and one of +our neighbours comes in sometimes to play cards; that makes up all our +circle. And now let us sit down.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov delivered all this little speech with peculiar +precision, as though she had learned it by heart; then she turned to +Arkady. It appeared that her mother had known Arkady's mother, and had +even been her confidante in her love for Nikolai Petrovitch. Arkady +began talking with great warmth of his dead mother; while Bazarov fell +to turning over albums. 'What a tame cat I'm getting!' he was thinking +to himself.</p> + +<p>A beautiful greyhound with a blue collar on, ran into the drawing-room, +tapping on the floor with his paws, and after him entered a girl of +eighteen, black-haired and dark-skinned, with a rather round but +pleasing face, and small dark eyes. In her hands she held a basket +filled with flowers.</p> + +<p>'This is my Katya,' said Madame Odintsov, indicating her with a motion +of her head. Katya made a slight curtsey, placed herself beside her +sister, and began picking out flowers. The greyhound, whose name was +Fifi, went up to both of the visitors, in turn wagging his tail, and +thrusting his cold nose into their hands.</p> + +<p>'Did you pick all that yourself?' asked Madame Odintsov.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' answered Katya.</p> + +<p>'Is auntie coming to tea?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>When Katya spoke, she had a very charming smile, sweet, timid, and +candid, and looked up from under her eyebrows with a sort of humorous +severity. Everything about her was still young and undeveloped; the +voice, and the bloom on her whole face, and the rosy hands, with white +palms, and the rather narrow shoulders.... She was constantly blushing +and getting out of breath.</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov turned to Bazarov. 'You are looking at pictures from +politeness, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' she began. That does not interest +you. You had better come nearer to us, and let us have a discussion +about something.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov went closer. 'What subject have you decided upon for +discussion?' he said.</p> + +<p>'What you like. I warn you, I am dreadfully argumentative.'</p> + +<p>'You?'</p> + +<p>'Yes. That seems to surprise you. Why?'</p> + +<p>'Because, as far as I can judge, you have a calm, cool character, and +one must be impulsive to be argumentative.'</p> + +<p>'How can you have had time to understand me so soon? In the first +place, I am impatient and obstinate—you should ask Katya; and +secondly, I am very easily carried away.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov looked at Anna Sergyevna. 'Perhaps; you must know best. And so +you are inclined for a discussion—by all means. I was looking through +the views of the Saxon mountains in your album, and you remarked that +that couldn't interest me. You said so, because you suppose me to have +no feeling for art, and as a fact I haven't any; but these views might +be interesting to me from a geological standpoint, for the formation of +the mountains, for instance.'</p> + +<p>'Excuse me; but as a geologist, you would sooner have recourse to a +book, to a special work on the subject, and not to a drawing.'</p> + +<p>'The drawing shows me at a glance what would be spread over ten pages +in a book.'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna was silent for a little.</p> + +<p>'And so you haven't the least artistic feeling?' she observed, putting +her elbow on the table, and by that very action bringing her face +nearer to Bazarov. 'How can you get on without it?'</p> + +<p>'Why, what is it wanted for, may I ask?'</p> + +<p>'Well, at least to enable one to study and understand men.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov smiled. 'In the first place, experience of life does that; and +in the second, I assure you, studying separate individuals is not worth +the trouble. All people are like one another, in soul as in body; each +of us has brain, spleen, heart, and lungs made alike; and the so-called +moral qualities are the same in all; the slight variations are of no +importance. A single human specimen is sufficient to judge of all by. +People are like trees in a forest; no botanist would think of studying +each individual birch-tree.'</p> + +<p>Katya, who was arranging the flowers, one at a time in a leisurely +fashion, lifted her eyes to Bazarov with a puzzled look, and meeting +his rapid and careless glance, she crimsoned up to her ears. Anna +Sergyevna shook her head.</p> + +<p>'The trees in a forest,' she repeated. 'Then according to you there is +no difference between the stupid and the clever person, between the +good-natured and ill-natured?'</p> + +<p>'No, there is a difference, just as between the sick and the healthy. +The lungs of a consumptive patient are not in the same condition as +yours and mine, though they are made on the same plan. We know +approximately what physical diseases come from; moral diseases come +from bad education, from all the nonsense people's heads are stuffed +with from childhood up, from the defective state of society; in short, +reform society, and there will be no diseases.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov said all this with an air, as though he were all the while +thinking to himself, 'Believe me or not, as you like, it's all one to +me!' He slowly passed his fingers over his whiskers, while his eyes +strayed about the room.</p> + +<p>'And you conclude,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'that when society is +reformed, there will be no stupid nor wicked people?'</p> + +<p>'At any rate, in a proper organisation of society, it will be +absolutely the same whether a man is stupid or clever, wicked or good.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I understand; they will all have the same spleen.'</p> + +<p>'Precisely so, madam.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov turned to Arkady. 'And what is your opinion, Arkady +Nikolaevitch?'</p> + +<p>'I agree with Yevgeny,' he answered.</p> + +<p>Katya looked up at him from under her eyelids.</p> + +<p>'You amaze me, gentlemen,' commented Madame Odintsov, 'but we will have +more talk together. But now I hear my aunt coming to tea; we must spare +her.'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna's aunt, Princess H——, a thin little woman with a +pinched-up face, drawn together like a fist, and staring +ill-natured-looking eyes under a grey front, came in, and, scarcely +bowing to the guests, she dropped into a wide velvet covered arm-chair, +upon which no one but herself was privileged to sit. Katya put a +footstool under her feet; the old lady did not thank her, did not even +look at her, only her hands shook under the yellow shawl, which almost +covered her feeble body. The Princess liked yellow; her cap, too, had +bright yellow ribbons.</p> + +<p>'How have you slept, aunt?' inquired Madame Odintsov, raising her +voice.</p> + +<p>'That dog in here again,' the old lady muttered in reply, and noticing +Fifi was making two hesitating steps in her direction, she cried, +'Ss——ss!'</p> + +<p>Katya called Fifi and opened the door for him.</p> + +<p>Fifi rushed out delighted, in the expectation of being taken out for a +walk; but when he was left alone outside the door, he began scratching +and whining. The princess scowled. Katya was about to go out....</p> + +<p>'I expect tea is ready,' said Madame Odintsov.</p> + +<p>'Come gentlemen; aunt, will you go in to tea?'</p> + +<p>The princess got up from her chair without speaking and led the way out +of the drawing-room. They all followed her in to the dining-room. A +little page in livery drew back, with a scraping sound, from the table, +an arm-chair covered with cushions, devoted to the princess's use; she +sank into it; Katya in pouring out the tea handed her first a cup +emblazoned with a heraldic crest. The old lady put some honey in her +cup (she considered it both sinful and extravagant to drink tea with +sugar in it, though she never spent a farthing herself on anything), +and suddenly asked in a hoarse voice, 'And what does Prince Ivan +write?'</p> + +<p>No one made her any reply. Bazarov and Arkady soon guessed that they +paid no attention to her though they treated her respectfully.</p> + +<p>'Because of her grand family,' thought Bazarov....</p> + +<p>After tea, Anna Sergyevna suggested they should go out for a walk; but +it began to rain a little, and the whole party, with the exception of +the princess, returned to the drawing-room. The neighbour, the devoted +card-player, arrived; his name was Porfiry Platonitch, a stoutish, +greyish man with short, spindly legs, very polite and ready to be +amused. Anna Sergyevna, who still talked principally with Bazarov, +asked him whether he'd like to try a contest with them in the +old-fashioned way at preference? Bazarov assented, saying 'that he +ought to prepare himself beforehand for the duties awaiting him as a +country doctor.'</p> + +<p>'You must be careful,' observed Anna Sergyevna; 'Porfiry Platonitch and +I will beat you. And you, Katya,' she added, 'play something to Arkady +Nikolaevitch; he is fond of music, and we can listen, too.'</p> + +<p>Katya went unwillingly to the piano; and Arkady, though he certainly +was fond of music, unwillingly followed her; it seemed to him that +Madame Odintsov was sending him away, and already, like every young man +at his age, he felt a vague and oppressive emotion surging up in his +heart, like the forebodings of love. Katya raised the top of the piano, +and not looking at Arkady, she said in a low voice—</p> + +<p>'What am I to play you?'</p> + +<p>'What you like,' answered Arkady indifferently.</p> + +<p>'What sort of music do you like best?' repeated Katya, without changing +her attitude.</p> + +<p>'Classical,' Arkady answered in the same tone of voice.</p> + +<p>'Do you like Mozart?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I like Mozart.'</p> + +<p>Katya pulled out Mozart's Sonata-Fantasia in C minor. She played very +well, though rather over correctly and precisely. She sat upright and +immovable, her eyes fixed on the notes, and her lips tightly +compressed, only at the end of the sonata her face glowed, her hair +came loose, and a little lock fell on to her dark brow.</p> + +<p>Arkady was particularly struck by the last part of the sonata, the part +in which, in the midst of the bewitching gaiety of the careless melody, +the pangs of such mournful, almost tragic suffering, suddenly break +in.... But the ideas stirred in him by Mozart's music had no reference +to Katya. Looking at her, he simply thought, 'Well, that young lady +doesn't play badly, and she's not bad-looking either.'</p> + +<p>When she had finished the sonata, Katya without taking her hands from +the keys, asked, 'Is that enough?' Arkady declared that he could not +venture to trouble her again, and began talking to her about Mozart; he +asked her whether she had chosen that sonata herself, or some one had +recommended it to her. But Katya answered him in monosyllables; she +withdrew into herself, went back into her shell. When this happened to +her, she did not very quickly come out again; her face even assumed at +such times an obstinate, almost stupid expression. She was not exactly +shy, but diffident, and rather overawed by her sister, who had educated +her, and who had no suspicion of the fact. Arkady was reduced at last +to calling Fifi to him, and with an affable smile patting him on the +head to give himself an appearance of being at home.</p> + +<p>Katya set to work again upon her flowers.</p> + +<p>Bazarov meanwhile was losing and losing. Anna Sergyevna played cards in +masterly fashion; Porfiry Platonitch, too, could hold his own in the +game. Bazarov lost a sum which, though trifling in itself, was not +altogether pleasant for him. At supper Anna Sergyevna again turned the +conversation on botany.</p> + +<p>'We will go for a walk to-morrow morning,' she said to him; 'I want you +to teach me the Latin names of the wild flowers and their species.'</p> + +<p>'What use are the Latin names to you?' asked Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Order is needed in everything,' she answered.</p> + +<p>'What an exquisite woman Anna Sergyevna is!' cried Arkady, when he was +alone with his friend in the room assigned to them.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' answered Bazarov, 'a female with brains. Yes, and she's seen +life too.'</p> + +<p>'In what sense do you mean that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?'</p> + +<p>'In a good sense, a good sense, my dear friend, Arkady Nikolaevitch! +I'm convinced she manages her estate capitally too. But what's splendid +is not her, but her sister.'</p> + +<p>'What, that little dark thing?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, that little dark thing. She now is fresh and untouched, and shy +and silent, and anything you like. She's worth educating and +developing. You might make something fine out of her; but the +other's—a stale loaf.'</p> + +<p>Arkady made no reply to Bazarov, and each of them got into bed with +rather singular thoughts in his head.</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna, too, thought of her guests that evening. She liked +Bazarov for the absence of gallantry in him, and even for his sharply +defined views. She found in him something new, which she had not +chanced to meet before, and she was curious.</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna was a rather strange creature. Having no prejudices of +any kind, having no strong convictions even, she never gave way or went +out of her way for anything. She had seen many things very clearly; she +had been interested in many things, but nothing had completely +satisfied her; indeed, she hardly desired complete satisfaction. Her +intellect was at the same time inquiring and indifferent; her doubts +were never soothed to forgetfulness, and they never grew strong enough +to distract her. Had she not been rich and independent, she would +perhaps have thrown herself into the struggle, and have known passion. +But life was easy for her, though she was bored at times, and she went +on passing day after day with deliberation, never in a hurry, placid, +and only rarely disturbed. Dreams sometimes danced in rainbow colours +before her eyes even, but she breathed more freely when they died away, +and did not regret them. Her imagination indeed overstepped the limits +of what is reckoned permissible by conventional morality; but even then +her blood flowed as quietly as ever in her fascinatingly graceful, +tranquil body. Sometimes coming out of her fragrant bath all warm and +enervated, she would fall to musing on the nothingness of life, the +sorrow, the labour, the malice of it.... Her soul would be filled with +sudden daring, and would flow with generous ardour, but a draught would +blow from a half-closed window, and Anna Sergyevna would shrink into +herself, and feel plaintive and almost angry, and there was only one +thing she cared for at that instant—to get away from that horrid +draught.</p> + +<p>Like all women who have not succeeded in loving, she wanted something, +without herself knowing what. Strictly speaking, she wanted nothing; +but it seemed to her that she wanted everything. She could hardly +endure the late Odintsov (she had married him from prudential motives, +though probably she would not have consented to become his wife if she +had not considered him a good sort of man), and had conceived a secret +repugnance for all men, whom she could only figure to herself as +slovenly, heavy, drowsy, and feebly importunate creatures. Once, +somewhere abroad, she had met a handsome young Swede, with a chivalrous +expression, with honest blue eyes under an open brow; he had made a +powerful impression on her, but it had not prevented her from going +back to Russia.</p> + +<p>'A strange man this doctor!' she thought as she lay in her luxurious +bed on lace pillows under a light silk coverlet.... Anna Sergyevna had inherited +from her father a little of his inclination for splendour. She had +fondly loved her sinful but good-natured father, and he had idolised +her, used to joke with her in a friendly way as though she were an +equal, and to confide in her fully, to ask her advice. Her mother she +scarcely remembered.</p> + +<p>'This doctor is a strange man!' she repeated to herself. She stretched, +smiled, clasped her hands behind her head, then ran her eyes over two +pages of a stupid French novel, dropped the book—and fell asleep, all +pure and cold, in her pure and fragrant linen.</p> + +<p>The following morning Anna Sergyevna went off botanising with Bazarov +directly after lunch, and returned just before dinner; Arkady did not +go off anywhere, and spent about an hour with Katya. He was not bored +with her; she offered of herself to repeat the sonata of the day +before; but when Madame Odintsov came back at last, when he caught +sight of her, he felt an instantaneous pang at his heart. She came +through the garden with a rather tired step; her cheeks were glowing +and her eyes shining more brightly than usual under her round straw +hat. She was twirling in her fingers the thin stalk of a wildflower, a +light mantle had slipped down to her elbows, and the wide gray ribbons +of her hat were clinging to her bosom. Bazarov walked behind her, +self-confident and careless as usual, but the expression of his face, +cheerful and even friendly as it was, did not please Arkady. Muttering +between his teeth, 'Good-morning!' Bazarov went away to his room, while +Madame Odintsov shook Arkady's hand abstractedly, and also walked past +him.</p> + +<p>'Good-morning!' thought Arkady ... 'As though we had not seen each +other already to-day!'</p> +<br><a name="chap17"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XVII</h4> +<br> + +<p>Time, it is well known, sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls +like a worm; but man is wont to be particularly happy when he does not +even notice whether it passes quickly or slowly. It was in that way +Arkady and Bazarov spent a fortnight at Madame Odintsov's. The good +order she had established in her house and in her life partly +contributed to this result. She adhered strictly to this order herself, +and forced others to submit to it. Everything during the day was done +at a fixed time. In the morning, precisely at eight o'clock, all the +party assembled for tea; from morning-tea till lunch-time every one did +what he pleased, the hostess herself was engaged with her bailiff (the +estate was on the rent-system), her steward, and her head housekeeper. +Before dinner the party met again for conversation or reading; the +evening was devoted to walking, cards, and music; at half-past ten Anna +Sergyevna retired to her own room, gave her orders for the following +day, and went to bed. Bazarov did not like this measured, somewhat +ostentatious punctuality in daily life, 'like moving along rails,' he +pronounced it to be; the footmen in livery, the decorous stewards, +offended his democratic sentiments. He declared that if one went so +far, one might as well dine in the English style at once—in tail-coats +and white ties. He once spoke plainly upon the subject to Anna +Sergyevna. Her attitude was such that no one hesitated to speak his +mind freely before her. She heard him out; and then her comment was, +'From your point of view, you are right—and perhaps, in that respect, +I am too much of a lady; but there's no living in the country without +order, one would be devoured by ennui,' and she continued to go her own +way. Bazarov grumbled, but the very reason life was so easy for him and +Arkady at Madame Odintsov's was that everything in the house 'moved on +rails.' For all that, a change had taken place in both the young men +since the first days of their stay at Nikolskoe. Bazarov, in whom Anna +Sergyevna was obviously interested, though she seldom agreed with him, +began to show signs of an unrest, unprecedented in him; he was easily +put out of temper, and unwilling to talk, he looked irritated, and +could not sit still in one place, just as though he were possessed by +some secret longing; while Arkady, who had made up his mind +conclusively that he was in love with Madame Odintsov, had begun to +yield to a gentle melancholy. This melancholy did not, however, prevent +him from becoming friendly with Katya; it even impelled him to get into +friendly, affectionate terms with her. <i>'She</i> does not appreciate me? +So be it!... But here is a good creature, who does not repulse me,' he +thought, and his heart again knew the sweetness of magnanimous +emotions. Katya vaguely realised that he was seeking a sort of +consolation in her company, and did not deny him or herself the +innocent pleasure of a half-shy, half-confidential friendship. They did +not talk to each other in Anna Sergyevna's presence; Katya always +shrank into herself under her sister's sharp eyes; while Arkady, as +befits a man in love, could pay attention to nothing else when near the +object of his passion; but he was happy with Katya alone. He was +conscious that he did not possess the power to interest Madame +Odintsov; he was shy and at a loss when he was left alone with her, and +she did not know what to say to him, he was too young for her. With +Katya, on the other hand, Arkady felt at home; he treated her +condescendingly, encouraged her to express the impressions made on her +by music, reading novels, verses, and other such trifles, without +noticing or realising that these trifles were what interested him too. +Katya, on her side, did not try to drive away melancholy. Arkady was at +his ease with Katya, Madame Odintsov with Bazarov, and thus it usually +came to pass that the two couples, after being a little while together, +went off on their separate ways, especially during the walks. Katya +adored nature, and Arkady loved it, though he did not dare to +acknowledge it; Madame Odintsov was, like Bazarov, rather indifferent +to the beauties of nature. The almost continual separation of the two +friends was not without its consequences; the relations between them +began to change. Bazarov gave up talking to Arkady about Madame +Odintsov, gave up even abusing her 'aristocratic ways'; Katya, it is +true, he praised as before, and only advised him to restrain her +sentimental tendencies, but his praises were hurried, his advice dry, +and in general he talked less to Arkady than before ... he seemed to +avoid him, seemed ill at ease with him.</p> + +<p>Arkady observed it all, but he kept his observations to himself.</p> + +<p>The real cause of all this 'newness' was the feeling inspired in +Bazarov by Madame Odintsov, a feeling which tortured and maddened him, +and which he would at once have denied, with scornful laughter and +cynical abuse, if any one had ever so remotely hinted at the +possibility of what was taking place in him. Bazarov had a great love +for women and for feminine beauty; but love in the ideal, or, as he +expressed it, romantic sense, he called lunacy, unpardonable +imbecility; he regarded chivalrous sentiments as something of the +nature of deformity or disease, and had more than once expressed his +wonder that Toggenburg and all the minnesingers and troubadours had not +been put into a lunatic asylum. 'If a woman takes your fancy,' he used +to say, 'try and gain your end; but if you can't—well, turn your back +on her—there are lots of good fish in the sea.' Madame Odintsov had +taken his fancy; the rumours about her, the freedom and independence of +her ideas, her unmistakable liking for him, all seemed to be in his +favour, but he soon saw that with her he would not 'gain his ends,' and +to turn his back on her he found, to his own bewilderment, beyond his +power. His blood was on fire directly if he merely thought of her; he +could easily have mastered his blood, but something else was taking +root in him, something he had never admitted, at which he had always +jeered, at which all his pride revolted. In his conversations with Anna +Sergyevna he expressed more strongly than ever his calm contempt for +everything idealistic; but when he was alone, with indignation he +recognised idealism in himself. Then he would set off to the forest and +walk with long strides about it, smashing the twigs that came in his +way, and cursing under his breath both her and himself; or he would get +into the hay-loft in the barn, and, obstinately closing his eyes, try +to force himself to sleep, in which, of course, he did not always +succeed. Suddenly his fancy would bring before him those chaste hands +twining one day about his neck, those proud lips responding to his +kisses, those intellectual eyes dwelling with tenderness—yes, with +tenderness—on his, and his head went round, and he forgot himself for +an instant, till indignation boiled up in him again. He caught himself +in all sorts of 'shameful' thoughts, as though he were driven on by a +devil mocking him. Sometimes he fancied that there was a change taking +place in Madame Odintsov too; that there were signs in the expression +of her face of something special; that, perhaps ... but at that point +he would stamp, or grind his teeth, and clench his fists.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Bazarov was not altogether mistaken. He had struck Madame +Odintsov's imagination; he interested her, she thought a great deal +about him. In his absence, she was not dull, she was not impatient for +his coming, but she always grew more lively on his appearance; she +liked to be left alone with him, and she liked talking to him, even +when he irritated her or offended her taste, her refined habits. She +was, as it were, eager at once to sound him and to analyse herself.</p> + +<p>One day walking in the garden with her, he suddenly announced, in a +surly voice, that he intended going to his father's place very soon.... +She turned white, as though something had given her a pang, and such a +pang, that she wondered and pondered long after, what could be the +meaning of it. Bazarov had spoken of his departure with no idea of +putting her to the test, of seeing what would come of it; he never +'fabricated.' On the morning of that day he had an interview with his +father's bailiff, who had taken care of him when he was a child, +Timofeitch. This Timofeitch, a little old man of much experience and +astuteness, with faded yellow hair, a weather-beaten red face, and tiny +tear-drops in his shrunken eyes, unexpectedly appeared before Bazarov, +in his shortish overcoat of stout greyish-blue cloth, girt with a strip +of leather, and in tarred boots.</p> + +<p>'Hullo, old man; how are you?' cried Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'How do you do, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?' began the little old man, and he +smiled with delight, so that his whole face was all at once covered +with wrinkles.</p> + +<p>'What have you come for? They sent for me, eh?'</p> + +<p>'Upon my word, sir, how could we?' mumbled Timofeitch. (He remembered +the strict injunctions he had received from his master on starting.) +'We were sent to the town on business, and we'd heard news of your +honour, so here we turned off on our way, that's to say—to have a look +at your honour ... as if we could think of disturbing you!'</p> + +<p>'Come, don't tell lies!' Bazarov cut him short. 'Is this the road to +the town, do you mean to tell me?' Timofeitch hesitated, and made no +answer. 'Is my father well?'</p> + +<p>'Thank God, yes.'</p> + +<p>'And my mother?'</p> + +<p>'Anna Vlasyevna too, glory be to God.'</p> + +<p>'They are expecting me, I suppose?'</p> + +<p>The little old man held his tiny head on one side.</p> + +<p>'Ah, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, it makes one's heart ache to see them; it +does really.'</p> + +<p>'Come, all right, all right! shut up! Tell them I'm coming soon.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, sir,' answered Timofeitch, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>As he went out of the house, he pulled his cap down on his head with +both hands, clambered into a wretched-looking racing droshky, and went +off at a trot, but not in the direction of the town.</p> + +<p>On the evening of the same day, Madame Odintsov was sitting in her own +room with Bazarov, while Arkady walked up and down the hall listening +to Katya's playing. The princess had gone upstairs to her own room; she +could not bear guests as a rule, and 'especially this new riff-raff +lot,' as she called them. In the common rooms she only sulked; but she +made up for it in her own room by breaking out into such abuse before +her maid that the cap danced on her head, wig and all. Madame Odintsov +was well aware of all this.</p> + +<p>'How is it you are proposing to leave us?' she began; 'how about your +promise?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov started. 'What promise?'</p> + +<p>'Have you forgotten? You meant to give me some lessons in chemistry.'</p> + +<p>'It can't be helped! My father expects me; I can't loiter any longer. +However, you can read Pelouse et Frémy, <i>Notions générales de Chimie;</i> +it's a good book, and clearly written. You will find everything you +need in it.'</p> + +<p>'But do you remember; you assured me a book cannot take the place of +... I've forgotten how you put it, but you know what I mean ... do you +remember?'</p> + +<p>'It can't be helped!' repeated Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Why go away?' said Madame Odintsov, dropping her voice.</p> + +<p>He glanced at her. Her head had fallen on to the back of her +easy-chair, and her arms, bare to the elbow, were folded on her bosom. +She seemed paler in the light of the single lamp covered with a +perforated paper shade. An ample white gown hid her completely in its +soft folds; even the tips of her feet, also crossed, were hardly seen.</p> + +<p>'And why stay?' answered Bazarov.</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov turned her head slightly. 'You ask why. Have you not +enjoyed yourself with me? Or do you suppose you will not be missed +here?'</p> + +<p>'I am sure of it.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov was silent a minute. 'You are wrong in thinking that. +But I don't believe you. You could not say that seriously.' Bazarov +still sat immovable. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why don't you speak?'</p> + +<p>'Why, what am I to say to you? People are not generally worth being +missed, and I less than most.'</p> + +<p>'Why so?'</p> + +<p>'I'm a practical, uninteresting person. I don't know how to talk.'</p> + +<p>'You are fishing, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.'</p> + +<p>'That's not a habit of mine. Don't you know yourself that I've nothing +in common with the elegant side of life, the side you prize so much?'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov bit the corner of her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>'You may think what you like, but I shall be dull when you go away.'</p> + +<p>'Arkady will remain,' remarked Bazarov. Madame Odintsov shrugged her +shoulders slightly. 'I shall be dull,' she repeated.</p> + +<p>'Really? In any case you will not feel dull for long.'</p> + +<p>'What makes you suppose that?'</p> + +<p>'Because you told me yourself that you are only dull when your regular +routine is broken in upon. You have ordered your existence with such +unimpeachable regularity that there can be no place in it for dulness +or sadness ... for any unpleasant emotions.'</p> + +<p>'And do you consider I am so unimpeachable ... that's to say, that I +have ordered my life with such regularity?'</p> + +<p>'I should think so. Here's an example; in a few minutes it will strike +ten, and I know beforehand that you will drive me away.'</p> + +<p>'No; I'm not going to drive you away, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You may +stay. Open that window.... I feel half-stifled.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov got up and gave a push to the window. It flew up with a loud +crash.... He had not expected it to open so easily; besides, his hands +were shaking. The soft, dark night looked in to the room with its +almost black sky, its faintly rustling trees, and the fresh fragrance +of the pure open air.</p> + +<p>'Draw the blind and sit down,' said Madame Odintsov; 'I want to have a +talk with you before you go away. Tell me something about yourself; you +never talk about yourself.'</p> + +<p>'I try to talk to you upon improving subjects, Anna Sergyevna.'</p> + +<p>'You are very modest.... But I should like to know something about you, +about your family, about your father, for whom you are forsaking us.'</p> + +<p>'Why is she talking like that?' thought Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'All that's not in the least interesting,' he uttered aloud, +'especially for you; we are obscure people....'</p> + +<p>'And you regard me as an aristocrat?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov lifted his eyes to Madame Odintsov.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he said, with exaggerated sharpness.</p> + +<p>She smiled. 'I see you know me very little, though you do maintain that +all people are alike, and it's not worth while to study them. I will +tell you my life some time or other ... but first you tell me yours.'</p> + +<p>'I know you very little,' repeated Bazarov. 'Perhaps you are right; +perhaps, really, every one is a riddle. You, for instance; you avoid +society, you are oppressed by it, and you have invited two students to +stay with you. What makes you, with your intellect, with your beauty, +live in the country?'</p> + +<p>'What? What was it you said?' Madame Odintsov interposed eagerly. 'With +my ... beauty?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov scowled. 'Never mind that,' he muttered; 'I meant to say that I +don't exactly understand why you have settled in the country?'</p> + +<p>'You don't understand it.... But you explain it to yourself in some +way?'</p> + +<p>'Yes ... I assume that you remain continually in the same place because +you indulge yourself, because you are very fond of comfort and ease, +and very indifferent to everything else.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov smiled again. 'You would absolutely refuse to believe +that I am capable of being carried away by anything?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov glanced at her from under his brows.</p> + +<p>'By curiosity, perhaps; but not otherwise.'</p> + +<p>'Really? Well, now I understand why we are such friends; you are just +like me, you see.'</p> + +<p>'We are such friends ...' Bazarov articulated in a choked voice.</p> + +<p>'Yes!... Why, I'd forgotten you wanted to go away.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov got up. The lamp burnt dimly in the middle of the dark, +luxurious, isolated room; from time to time the blind was shaken, and +there flowed in the freshness of the insidious night; there was heard +its mysterious whisperings. Madame Odintsov did not move in a single +limb; but she was gradually possessed by concealed emotion.</p> + +<p>It communicated itself to Bazarov. He was suddenly conscious that he +was alone with a young and lovely woman....</p> + +<p>'Where are you going?' she said slowly.</p> + +<p>He answered nothing, and sank into a chair.</p> + +<p>'And so you consider me a placid, pampered, spoiled creature,' she went +on in the same voice, never taking her eyes off the window. 'While I +know so much about myself, that I am unhappy.'</p> + +<p>'You unhappy? What for? Surely you can't attach any importance to idle +gossip?'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov frowned. It annoyed her that he had given such a +meaning to her words.</p> + +<p>'Such gossip does not affect me, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and I am too +proud to allow it to disturb me. I am unhappy because ... I have no +desires, no passion for life. You look at me incredulously; you think +that's said by an "aristocrat," who is all in lace, and sitting in a +velvet armchair. I don't conceal the fact: I love what you call +comfort, and at the same time I have little desire to live. Explain +that contradiction as best you can. But all that's romanticism in your +eyes.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov shook his head. 'You are in good health, independent, rich; +what more would you have? What do you want?'</p> + +<p>'What do I want,' echoed Madame Odintsov, and she sighed, 'I am very +tired, I am old, I feel as if I have had a very long life. Yes, I am +old,' she added, softly drawing the ends of her lace over her bare +arms. Her eyes met Bazarov's eyes, and she faintly blushed. 'Behind me +I have already so many memories: my life in Petersburg, wealth, then +poverty, then my father's death, marriage, then the inevitable tour in +due order.... So many memories, and nothing to remember, and before me, +before me—a long, long road, and no goal.... I have no wish to go on.'</p> + +<p>'Are you so disillusioned?' queried Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'No, but I am dissatisfied,' Madame Odintsov replied, dwelling on each +syllable. 'I think if I could interest myself strongly in +something....'</p> + +<p>'You want to fall in love,' Bazarov interrupted her, 'and you can't +love; that's where your unhappiness lies.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov began to examine the sleeve of her lace.</p> + +<p>'Is it true I can't love?' she said.</p> + +<p>'I should say not! Only I was wrong in calling that an unhappiness. On +the contrary, any one's more to be pitied when such a mischance befalls +him.'</p> + +<p>'Mischance, what?'</p> + +<p>'Falling in love.'</p> + +<p>'And how do you come to know that?'</p> + +<p>'By hearsay,' answered Bazarov angrily.</p> + +<p>'You're flirting,' he thought; 'you're bored, and teasing me for want +of something to do, while I ...' His heart really seemed as though it +were being torn to pieces.</p> + +<p>'Besides, you are perhaps too exacting,' he said, bending his whole +frame forward and playing with the fringe of the chair.</p> + +<p>'Perhaps. My idea is everything or nothing. A life for a life. Take +mine, give up thine, and that without regret or turning back. Or else +better have nothing.'</p> + +<p>'Well?' observed Bazarov; 'that's fair terms, and I'm surprised that so +far you ... have not found what you wanted.'</p> + +<p>'And do you think it would be easy to give oneself up wholly to +anything whatever?'</p> + +<p>'Not easy, if you begin reflecting, waiting and attaching value to +yourself, prizing yourself, I mean; but to give oneself up without +reflection is very easy.'</p> + +<p>'How can one help prizing oneself? If I am of no value, who could need +my devotion?'</p> + +<p>'That's not my affair; that's the other's business to discover what is +my value. The chief thing is to be able to devote oneself.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov bent forward from the back of her chair. 'You speak,' +she began, 'as though you had experienced all that.'</p> + +<p>'It happened to come up, Anna Sergyevna; all that, as you know, is not +in my line.'</p> + +<p>'But you could devote yourself?'</p> + +<p>'I don't know. I shouldn't like to boast.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov said nothing, and Bazarov was mute. The sounds of the +piano floated up to them from the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>'How is it Katya is playing so late?' observed Madame Odintsov.</p> + +<p>Bazarov got up. 'Yes, it is really late now; it's time for you to go to +bed.'</p> + +<p>'Wait a little; why are you in a hurry?... I want to say one word to +you.'</p> + +<p>'What is it?'</p> + +<p>'Wait a little,' whispered Madame Odintsov. Her eyes rested on Bazarov; +it seemed as though she were examining him attentively.</p> + +<p>He walked across the room, then suddenly went up to her, hurriedly said +'Good-bye,' squeezed her hand so that she almost screamed, and was +gone. She raised her crushed fingers to her lips, breathed on them, and +suddenly, impulsively getting up from her low chair, she moved with +rapid steps towards the door, as though she wished to bring Bazarov +back.... A maid came into the room with a decanter on a silver tray. +Madame Odintsov stood still, told her she could go, and sat down again, +and again sank into thought. Her hair slipped loose and fell in a dark +coil down her shoulders. Long after the lamp was still burning in Anna +Sergyevna's room, and for long she stayed without moving, only from +time to time chafing her hands, which ached a little from the cold of +the night.</p> + +<p>Bazarov went back two hours later to his bed-room with his boots wet +with dew, dishevelled and ill-humoured. He found Arkady at the +writing-table with a book in his hands, his coat buttoned up to the +throat.</p> + +<p>'You're not in bed yet?' he said, in a tone, it seemed, of annoyance.</p> + +<p>'You stopped a long while with Anna Sergyevna this evening,' remarked +Arkady, not answering him.</p> + +<p>'Yes, I stopped with her all the while you were playing the piano with +Katya Sergyevna.'</p> + +<p>'I did not play ...' Arkady began, and he stopped. He felt the tears +were coming into his eyes, and he did not like to cry before his +sarcastic friend.</p> +<br><a name="chap18"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XVIII</h4> +<br> + +<p>The following morning when Madame Odintsov came down to morning tea, +Bazarov sat a long while bending over his cup, then suddenly he glanced +up at her.... She turned to him as though he had struck her a blow, and +he fancied that her face was a little paler since the night before. She +quickly went off to her own room, and did not appear till lunch. It +rained from early morning; there was no possibility of going for a +walk. The whole company assembled in the drawing-room. Arkady took up +the new number of a journal and began reading it aloud. The princess, +as was her habit, tried to express her amazement in her face, as though +he were doing something improper, then glared angrily at him; but he +paid no attention to her.</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch' said Anna Sergyevna, 'come to my room.... I want +to ask you.... You mentioned a textbook yesterday ...'</p> + +<p>She got up and went to the door. The princess looked round with an +expression that seemed to say, 'Look at me; see how shocked I am!' and +again glared at Arkady; but he raised his voice, and exchanging glances +with Katya, near whom he was sitting, he went on reading.</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov went with rapid steps to her study. Bazarov followed +her quickly, not raising his eyes, and only with his ears catching the +delicate swish and rustle of her silk gown gliding before him. Madame +Odintsov sank into the same easy-chair in which she had sat the +previous evening, and Bazarov took up the same position as before.</p> + +<p>'What was the name of that book?' she began, after a brief silence.</p> + +<p>'Pelouse et Frémy, <i>Notions générales,'</i> answered Bazarov. 'I might +though recommend you also Ganot, <i>Traité élémentaire de physique +éxpérimentale</i>. In that book the illustrations are clearer, and in +general it's a text-book.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov stretched out her hand. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I beg +your pardon, but I didn't invite you in here to discuss text-books. I +wanted to continue our conversation of last night. You went away so +suddenly.... It will not bore you ...'</p> + +<p>'I am at your service, Anna Sergyevna. But what were we talking about +last night?'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov flung a sidelong glance at Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'We were talking of happiness, I believe. I told you about myself. By +the way, I mentioned the word "happiness." Tell me why it is that even +when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a fine evening, or a +conversation with sympathetic people, it all seems an intimation of +some measureless happiness existing apart somewhere rather than actual +happiness—such, I mean, as we ourselves are in possession of? Why is +it? Or perhaps you have no feeling like that?'</p> + +<p>'You know the saying, "Happiness is where we are not,"' replied +Bazarov; 'besides, you told me yesterday you are discontented. I +certainly never have such ideas come into my head.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps they seem ridiculous to you?'</p> + +<p>'No; but they don't come into my head.'</p> + +<p>'Really? Do you know, I should very much like to know what you do think +about?'</p> + +<p>'What? I don't understand.'</p> + +<p>'Listen; I have long wanted to speak openly to you. There's no need to +tell you—you are conscious of it yourself—that you are not an +ordinary man; you are still young—all life is before you. What are you +preparing yourself for? What future is awaiting you? I mean to +say—what object do you want to attain? What are you going forward to? +What is in your heart? in short, who are you? What are you?'</p> + +<p>'You surprise me, Anna Sergyevna. You are aware that I am studying +natural science, and who I ...'</p> + +<p>'Well, who are you?'</p> + +<p>'I have explained to you already that I am going to be a district +doctor.'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna made a movement of impatience.</p> + +<p>'What do you say that for? You don't believe it yourself. Arkady might +answer me in that way, but not you.'</p> + +<p>'Why, in what is Arkady ...'</p> + +<p>'Stop! Is it possible you could content yourself with such a humble +career, and aren't you always maintaining yourself that you don't +believe in medicine? You—with your ambition—a district doctor! You +answer me like that to put me off, because you have no confidence in +me. But, do you know, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, that I could understand you; +I have been poor myself, and ambitious, like you; I have been perhaps +through the same trials as you.'</p> + +<p>'That is all very well, Anna Sergyevna, but you must pardon me for ... +I am not in the habit of talking freely about myself at any time as a +rule, and between you and me there is such a gulf ...'</p> + +<p>'What sort of gulf? You mean to tell me again that I am an aristocrat? +No more of that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch; I thought I had proved to you +...'</p> + +<p>'And even apart from that,' broke in Bazarov, 'what could induce one to +talk and think about the future, which for the most part does not +depend on us? If a chance turns up of doing something—so much the +better; and if it doesn't turn up—at least one will be glad one didn't +gossip idly about it beforehand.'</p> + +<p>'You call a friendly conversation idle gossip?... Or perhaps you +consider me as a woman unworthy of your confidence? I know you despise +us all.'</p> + +<p>'I don't despise you, Anna Sergyevna, and you know that.'</p> + +<p>'No, I don't know anything ... but let us suppose so. I understand your +disinclination to talk of your future career; but as to what is taking +place within you now ...'</p> + +<p>'Taking place!' repeated Bazarov, 'as though I were some sort of +government or society! In any case, it is utterly uninteresting; and +besides, can a man always speak of everything that "takes place" in +him?'</p> + +<p>'Why, I don't see why you can't speak freely of everything you have in +your heart.'</p> + +<p>'Can <i>you?'</i> asked Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' answered Anna Sergyevna, after a brief hesitation.</p> + +<p>Bazarov bowed his head. 'You are more fortunate than I am.'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna looked at him questioningly. 'As you please,' she went +on, 'but still something tells me that we have not come together for +nothing; that we shall be great friends. I am sure this—what should I +say, constraint, reticence in you will vanish at last.'</p> + +<p>'So you have noticed reticence ... as you expressed it ... constraint?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov got up and went to the window. 'And would you like to know the +reason of this reticence? Would you like to know what is passing within +me?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' repeated Madame Odintsov, with a sort of dread she did not at +the time understand.</p> + +<p>'And you will not be angry?'</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>'No?' Bazarov was standing with his back to her. 'Let me tell you then +that I love you like a fool, like a madman.... There, you've forced it +out of me.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov held both hands out before her; but Bazarov was leaning +with his forehead pressed against the window pane. He breathed hard; +his whole body was visibly trembling. But it was not the tremor of +youthful timidity, not the sweet alarm of the first declaration that +possessed him; it was passion struggling in him, strong and +painful—passion not unlike hatred, and perhaps akin to it.... Madame +Odintsov felt both afraid and sorry for him.</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and there was the ring of unconscious +tenderness in her voice.</p> + +<p>He turned quickly, flung a searching look on her, and snatching both +her hands, he drew her suddenly to his breast.</p> + +<p>She did not at once free herself from his embrace, but an instant +later, she was standing far away in a corner, and looking from there at +Bazarov. He rushed at her ...</p> + +<p>'You have misunderstood me,' she whispered hurriedly, in alarm. It +seemed if he had made another step she would have screamed.... Bazarov +bit his lips, and went out.</p> + +<p>Half-an-hour after, a maid gave Anna Sergyevna a note from Bazarov; it +consisted simply of one line: 'Am I to go to-day, or can I stop till +to-morrow?'</p> + +<p>'Why should you go? I did not understand you—you did not understand +me,' Anna Sergyevna answered him, but to herself she thought: 'I did +not understand myself either.'</p> + +<p>She did not show herself till dinner-time, and kept walking to and fro +in her room, stopping sometimes at the window, sometimes at the +looking-glass, and slowly rubbing her handkerchief over her neck, on +which she still seemed to feel a burning spot. She asked herself what +had induced her to 'force' Bazarov's words, his confidence, and whether +she had suspected nothing ... 'I am to blame,' she decided aloud, 'but +I could not have foreseen this.' She fell to musing, and blushed +crimson, remembering Bazarov's almost animal face when he had rushed at +her....</p> + +<p>'Oh?' she uttered suddenly aloud, and she stopped short and shook back +her curls.... She caught sight of herself in the glass; her head thrown +back, with a mysterious smile on the half-closed, half-opened eyes and +lips, told her, it seemed, in a flash something at which she herself +was confused....</p> + +<p>'No,' she made up her mind at last. 'God knows what it would lead to; +he couldn't be played with; peace is anyway the best thing in the +world.'</p> + +<p>Her peace of mind was not shaken; but she felt gloomy, and even shed a +few tears once though she could not have said why—certainly not for +the insult done her. She did not feel insulted; she was more inclined +to feel guilty. Under the influence of various vague emotions, the +sense of life passing by, the desire of novelty, she had forced herself +to go up to a certain point, forced herself to look behind herself, and +had seen behind her not even an abyss, but what was empty ... or +revolting.</p> +<br><a name="chap19"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XIX</h4> +<br> + +<p>Great as was Madame Odintsov's self-control, and superior as she was to +every kind of prejudice, she felt awkward when she went into the +dining-room to dinner. The meal went off fairly successfully, however. +Porfiry Platonovitch made his appearance and told various anecdotes; he +had just come back from the town. Among other things, he informed them +that the governor had ordered his secretaries on special commissions to +wear spurs, in case he might send them off anywhere for greater speed +on horseback. Arkady talked in an undertone to Katya, and +diplomatically attended to the princess's wants. Bazarov maintained a +grim and obstinate silence. Madame Odintsov looked at him twice, not +stealthily, but straight in the face, which was bilious and forbidding, +with downcast eyes, and contemptuous determination stamped on every +feature, and thought: 'No ... no ... no.' ... After dinner, she went +with the whole company into the garden, and seeing that Bazarov wanted +to speak to her, she took a few steps to one side and stopped. He went +up to her, but even then did not raise his eyes, and said hoarsely—</p> + +<p>'I have to apologise to you, Anna Sergyevna. You must be in a fury with +me.'</p> + +<p>'No, I'm not angry with you, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' answered Madame +Odintsov; 'but I am sorry.'</p> + +<p>'So much the worse. Any way, I'm sufficiently punished. My position, +you will certainly agree, is most foolish. You wrote to me, "Why go +away?" But I cannot stay, and don't wish to. To-morrow I shall be +gone.'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why are you ...'</p> + +<p>'Why am I going away?'</p> + +<p>'No; I didn't mean to say that.'</p> + +<p>'There's no recalling the past, Anna Sergyevna ... and this was bound +to come about sooner or later. Consequently I must go. I can only +conceive of one condition upon which I could remain; but that condition +will never be. Excuse my impertinence, but you don't love me, and you +never will love me, I suppose?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov's eyes glittered for an instant under their dark brows.</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna did not answer him. 'I'm afraid of this man,' flashed +through her brain.</p> + +<p>'Good-bye, then,' said Bazarov, as though he guessed her thought, and +he went back into the house.</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna walked slowly after him, and calling Katya to her, she +took her arm. She did not leave her side till quite evening. She did +not play cards, and was constantly laughing, which did not at all +accord with her pale and perplexed face. Arkady was bewildered, and +looked on at her as all young people look on—that's to say, he was +constantly asking himself, 'What is the meaning of that?' Bazarov shut +himself up in his room; he came back to tea, however. Anna Sergyevna +longed to say some friendly word to him, but she did not know how to +address him....</p> + +<p>An unexpected incident relieved her from her embarrassment; a steward +announced the arrival of Sitnikov.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to do justice in words to the strange figure cut by the +young apostle of progress as he fluttered into the room. Though, with +his characteristic impudence, he had made up his mind to go into the +country to visit a woman whom he hardly knew, who had never invited +him; but with whom, according to information he had gathered, such +talented and intimate friends were staying, he was nevertheless +trembling to the marrow of his bones; and instead of bringing out the +apologies and compliments he had learned by heart beforehand, he +muttered some absurdity about Evdoksya Kukshin having sent him to +inquire after Anna Sergyevna's health, and Arkady Nikolaevitch's too, +having always spoken to him in the highest terms.... At this point he +faltered and lost his presence of mind so completely that he sat down +on his own hat. However, since no one turned him out, and Anna +Sergyevna even presented him to her aunt and her sister, he soon +recovered himself and began to chatter volubly. The introduction of the +commonplace is often an advantage in life; it relieves over-strained +tension, and sobers too self-confident or self-sacrificing emotions by +recalling its close kinship with them. With Sitnikov's appearance +everything became somehow duller and simpler; they all even ate a more +solid supper, and retired to bed half-an-hour earlier than usual.</p> + +<p>'I might now repeat to you,' said Arkady, as he lay down in bed, to +Bazarov, who was also undressing, what you once said to me, 'Why are +you so melancholy? One would think you had fulfilled some sacred duty.' +For some time past a sort of pretence of free-and-easy banter had +sprung up between the two young men, which is always an unmistakable +sign of secret displeasure or unexpressed suspicions.</p> + +<p>'I'm going to my father's to-morrow,' said Bazarov.</p> + +<p>Arkady raised himself and leaned on his elbow. He felt both surprised, +and for some reason or other pleased. 'Ah!' he commented, 'and is that +why you're sad?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov yawned. 'You'll get old if you know too much.'</p> + +<p>'And Anna Sergyevna?' persisted Arkady.</p> + +<p>'What about Anna Sergyevna?'</p> + +<p>'I mean, will she let you go?'</p> + +<p>'I'm not her paid man.'</p> + +<p>Arkady grew thoughtful, while Bazarov lay down and turned with his face +to the wall.</p> + +<p>Some minutes went by in silence. 'Yevgeny?' cried Arkady suddenly.</p> + +<p>'Well?'</p> + +<p>'I will leave with you to-morrow too.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov made no answer.</p> + +<p>'Only I will go home,' continued Arkady. 'We will go together as far as +Hohlovsky, and there you can get horses at Fedot's. I should be +delighted to make the acquaintance of your people, but I'm afraid of +being in their way and yours. You are coming to us again later, of +course?'</p> + +<p>'I've left all my things with you,' Bazarov said, without turning +round.</p> + +<p>'Why doesn't he ask me why I am going, and just as suddenly as he?' +thought Arkady. 'In reality, why am I going, and why is he going?' he +pursued his reflections. He could find no satisfactory answer to his +own question, though his heart was filled with some bitter feeling. He +felt it would be hard to part from this life to which he had grown so +accustomed; but for him to remain alone would be rather odd. 'Something +has passed between them,' he reasoned to himself; 'what good would it +be for me to hang on after he's gone? She's utterly sick of me; I'm +losing the last that remained to me.' He began to imagine Anna +Sergyevna to himself, then other features gradually eclipsed the lovely +image of the young widow.</p> + +<p>'I'm sorry to lose Katya too!' Arkady whispered to his pillow, on which +a tear had already fallen.... All at once he shook back his hair and +said aloud—</p> + +<p>'What the devil made that fool of a Sitnikov turn up here?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov at first stirred a little in his bed, then he uttered the +following rejoinder: 'You're still a fool, my boy, I see. Sitnikovs are +indispensable to us. I—do you understand? I need dolts like him. It's +not for the gods to bake bricks, in fact!'...</p> + +<p>'Oho!' Arkady thought to himself, and then in a flash all the +fathomless depths of Bazarov's conceit dawned upon him. 'Are you and I +gods then? at least, you're a god; am not I a dolt then?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' repeated Bazarov; 'you're still a fool.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov expressed no special surprise when Arkady told her the +next day that he was going with Bazarov; she seemed tired and absorbed. +Katya looked at him silently and seriously; the princess went so far as +to cross herself under her shawl so that he could not help noticing it. +Sitnikov, on the other hand, was completely disconcerted. He had only +just come in to lunch in a new and fashionable get-up, not on this +occasion of a Slavophil cut; the evening before he had astonished the +man told off to wait on him by the amount of linen he had brought with +him, and now all of a sudden his comrades were deserting him! He took a +few tiny steps, doubled back like a hunted hare at the edge of a copse, +and abruptly, almost with dismay, almost with a wail, announced that he +proposed going too. Madame Odintsov did not attempt to detain him.</p> + +<p>'I have a very comfortable carriage,' added the luckless young man, +turning to Arkady; 'I can take you, while Yevgeny Vassilyitch can take +your coach, so it will be even more convenient.'</p> + +<p>'But, really, it's not at all in your way, and it's a long way to my +place.'</p> + +<p>'That's nothing, nothing; I've plenty of time; besides, I have business +in that direction.'</p> + +<p>'Gin-selling?' asked Arkady, rather too contemptuously.</p> + +<p>But Sitnikov was reduced to such desperation that he did not even laugh +as usual. 'I assure you, my carriage is exceedingly comfortable,' he +muttered; 'and there will be room for all.'</p> + +<p>'Don't wound Monsieur Sitnikov by a refusal,' commented Anna Sergyevna.</p> + +<p>Arkady glanced at her, and bowed his head significantly.</p> + +<p>The visitors started off after lunch. As she said good-bye to Bazarov, +Madame Odintsov held out her hand to him, and said, 'We shall meet +again, shan't we?'</p> + +<p>'As you command,' answered Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'In that case, we shall.'</p> + +<p>Arkady was the first to descend the steps; he got into Sitnikov's +carriage. A steward tucked him in respectfully, but he could have +killed him with pleasure, or have burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Bazarov took his seat in the coach. When they reached Hohlovsky, Arkady +waited till Fedot, the keeper of the posting-station, had put in the +horses, and going up to the coach, he said, with his old smile, to +Bazarov, 'Yevgeny, take me with you; I want to come to you.'</p> + +<p>'Get in,' Bazarov brought out through his teeth.</p> + +<p>Sitnikov, who had been walking to and fro round the wheels of his +carriage, whistling briskly, could only gape when he heard these words; +while Arkady coolly pulled his luggage out of the carriage, took his +seat beside Bazarov, and bowing politely to his former +fellow-traveller, he called, 'Whip up!' The coach rolled away, and was +soon out of sight.... Sitnikov, utterly confused, looked at his +coachman, but the latter was flicking his whip about the tail of the +off horse. Then Sitnikov jumped into the carriage, and growling at two +passing peasants, 'Put on your caps, idiots!' he drove to the town, +where he arrived very late, and where, next day, at Madame Kukshin's, +he dealt very severely with two 'disgusting stuck-up churls.'</p> + +<p>When he was seated in the coach by Bazarov, Arkady pressed his hand +warmly, and for a long while he said nothing. It seemed as though +Bazarov understood and appreciated both the pressure and the silence. +He had not slept all the previous night, and had not smoked, and had +eaten scarcely anything for several days. His profile, already thinner, +stood out darkly and sharply under his cap, which was pulled down to +his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>'Well, brother,' he said at last, 'give us a cigarette. But look, I +say, is my tongue yellow?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, it is,' answered Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Hm ... and the cigarette's tasteless. The machine's out of gear.'</p> + +<p>'You look changed lately certainly,' observed Arkady.</p> + +<p>'It's nothing! we shall soon be all right. One thing's a bother—my +mother's so tender-hearted; if you don't grow as round as a tub, and +eat ten times a day, she's quite upset. My father's all right, he's +known all sorts of ups and downs himself. No, I can't smoke,' he added, +and he flung the cigarette into the dust of the road.</p> + +<p>'Do you think it's twenty miles?' asked Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Yes. But ask this sage here.' He indicated the peasant sitting on the +box, a labourer of Fedot's.</p> + +<p>But the sage only answered, 'Who's to know—miles hereabout aren't +measured,' and went on swearing in an undertone at the shaft horse for +'kicking with her head-piece,' that is, shaking with her head down.</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes,' began Bazarov; 'it's a lesson to you, my young friend, an +instructive example. God knows, what rot it is? Every man hangs on a +thread, the abyss may open under his feet any minute, and yet he must +go and invent all sorts of discomforts for himself, and spoil his +life.'</p> + +<p>'What are you alluding to?' asked Arkady.</p> + +<p>'I'm not alluding to anything; I'm saying straight out that we've both +behaved like fools. What's the use of talking about it! Still, I've +noticed in hospital practice, the man who's furious at his +illness—he's sure to get over it.'</p> + +<p>'I don't quite understand you,' observed Arkady; 'I should have thought +you had nothing to complain of.'</p> + +<p>'And since you don't quite understand me, I'll tell you this—to my +mind, it's better to break stones on the highroad than to let a woman +have the mastery of even the end of one's little finger. That's all +...' Bazarov was on the point of uttering his favourite word, +'romanticism,' but he checked himself, and said, 'rubbish. You don't +believe me now, but I tell you; you and I have been in feminine +society, and very nice we found it; but to throw up society like that +is for all the world like a dip in cold water on a hot day. A man +hasn't time to attend to such trifles; a man ought not to be tame, says +an excellent Spanish proverb. Now, you, I suppose, my sage friend,' he +added, turning to the peasant sitting on the box—'you've a wife?'</p> + +<p>The peasant showed both the friends his dull blear-eyed face.</p> + +<p>'A wife? Yes. Every man has a wife.'</p> + +<p>'Do you beat her?'</p> + +<p>'My wife? Everything happens sometimes. We don't beat her without good +reason!'</p> + +<p>'That's excellent. Well, and does she beat you?'</p> + +<p>The peasant gave a tug at the reins. 'That's a strange thing to say, +sir. You like your joke.'... He was obviously offended.</p> + +<p>'You hear, Arkady Nikolaevitch! But we have taken a beating ... that's +what comes of being educated people.'</p> + +<p>Arkady gave a forced laugh, while Bazarov turned away, and did not open +his mouth again the whole journey.</p> + +<p>The twenty miles seemed to Arkady quite forty. But at last, on the +slope of some rising ground, appeared the small hamlet where Bazarov's +parents lived. Beside it, in a young birch copse, could be seen a small +house with a thatched roof.</p> + +<p>Two peasants stood with their hats on at the first hut, abusing each +other. 'You're a great sow,' said one; 'and worse than a little sucking +pig.'</p> + +<p>'And your wife's a witch,' retorted the other.</p> + +<p>'From their unconstrained behaviour,' Bazarov remarked to Arkady, 'and +the playfulness of their retorts, you can guess that my father's +peasants are not too much oppressed. Why, there he is himself coming +out on the steps of his house. They must have heard the bells. It's he; +it's he—I know his figure. Ay, ay! how grey he's grown though, poor +chap!'</p> +<br><a name="chap20"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XX</h4> +<br> + +<p>Bazarov leaned out of the coach, while Arkady thrust his head out +behind his companion's back, and caught sight on the steps of the +little manor-house of a tall, thinnish man with dishevelled hair, and a +thin hawk nose, dressed in an old military coat not buttoned up. He was +standing, his legs wide apart, smoking a long pipe and screwing up his +eyes to keep the sun out of them.</p> + +<p>The horses stopped.</p> + +<p>'Arrived at last,' said Bazarov's father, still going on smoking though +the pipe was fairly dancing up and down between his fingers. 'Come, get +out; get out; let me hug you.'</p> + +<p>He began embracing his son ... 'Enyusha, Enyusha,' was heard a +trembling woman's voice. The door was flung open, and in the doorway +was seen a plump, short, little old woman in a white cap and a short +striped jacket. She moaned, staggered, and would certainly have fallen, +had not Bazarov supported her. Her plump little hands were instantly +twined round his neck, her head was pressed to his breast, and there +was a complete hush. The only sound heard was her broken sobs.</p> + +<p>Old Bazarov breathed hard and screwed his eyes up more than ever.</p> + +<p>'There, that's enough, that's enough, Arisha! give over,' he said, +exchanging a glance with Arkady, who remained motionless in the coach, +while the peasant on the box even turned his head away; 'that's not at +all necessary, please give over.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, Vassily Ivanitch,' faltered the old woman, 'for what ages, my dear +one, my darling, Enyusha,' ... and, not unclasping her hands, she drew +her wrinkled face, wet with tears and working with tenderness, a little +away from Bazarov, and gazed at him with blissful and comic-looking +eyes, and again fell on his neck.</p> + +<p>'Well, well, to be sure, that's all in the nature of things,' commented +Vassily Ivanitch, 'only we'd better come indoors. Here's a visitor come +with Yevgeny. You must excuse it,' he added, turning to Arkady, and +scraping with his foot; 'you understand, a woman's weakness; and well, +a mother's heart ...'</p> + +<p>His lips and eyebrows too were twitching, and his beard was quivering +... but he was obviously trying to control himself and appear almost +indifferent.</p> + +<p>'Let's come in, mother, really,' said Bazarov, and he led the enfeebled +old woman into the house. Putting her into a comfortable armchair, he +once more hurriedly embraced his father and introduced Arkady to him.</p> + +<p>'Heartily glad to make your acquaintance,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, +'but you mustn't expect great things; everything here in my house is +done in a plain way, on a military footing. Arina Vlasyevna, calm +yourself, pray; what weakness! The gentleman our guest will think ill +of you.'</p> + +<p>'My dear sir,' said the old lady through her tears, 'your name and your +father's I haven't the honour of knowing....'</p> + +<p>'Arkady Nikolaitch,' put in Vassily Ivanitch solemnly, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>'You must excuse a silly old woman like me.' The old woman blew her +nose, and bending her head to right and to left, carefully wiped one +eye after the other. 'You must excuse me. You see, I thought I should +die, that I should not live to see my da .. arling.'</p> + +<p>'Well, here we have lived to see him, madam,' put in Vassily +Ivanovitch. 'Tanyushka,' he turned to a bare-legged little girl of +thirteen in a bright red cotton dress, who was timidly peeping in at +the door, 'bring your mistress a glass of water—on a tray, do you +hear?—and you, gentlemen,' he added, with a kind of old-fashioned +playfulness, 'let me ask you into the study of a retired old veteran.'</p> + +<p>'Just once more let me embrace you, Enyusha,' moaned Arina Vlasyevna. +Bazarov bent down to her. 'Why, what a handsome fellow you have grown!'</p> + +<p>'Well, I don't know about being handsome,' remarked Vassily Ivanovitch, +'but he's a man, as the saying is, <i>ommfay</i>. And now I hope, Arina +Vlasyevna, that having satisfied your maternal heart, you will turn +your thoughts to satisfying the appetites of our dear guests, because, +as you're aware, even nightingales can't be fed on fairy tales.'</p> + +<p>The old lady got up from her chair. 'This minute, Vassily Ivanovitch, +the table shall be laid. I will run myself to the kitchen and order the +samovar to be brought in; everything shall be ready, everything. Why, I +have not seen him, not given him food or drink these three years; is +that nothing?'</p> + +<p>'There, mind, good mother, bustle about; don't put us to shame; while +you, gentlemen, I beg you to follow me. Here's Timofeitch come to pay +his respects to you, Yevgeny. He, too, I daresay, is delighted, the old +dog. Eh, aren't you delighted, old dog? Be so good as to follow me.'</p> + +<p>And Vassily Ivanovitch went bustling forward, scraping and flapping +with his slippers trodden down at heel.</p> + +<p>His whole house consisted of six tiny rooms. One of them—the one to +which he led our friends—was called the study. A thick-legged table, +littered over with papers black with the accumulation of ancient dust +as though they had been smoked, occupied all the space between the two +windows; on the walls hung Turkish firearms, whips, a sabre, two maps, +some anatomical diagrams, a portrait of Hoffland, a monogram woven in +hair in a blackened frame, and a diploma under glass; a leather sofa, +torn and worn into hollows in parts, was placed between two huge +cupboards of birch-wood; on the shelves books, boxes, stuffed birds, +jars, and phials were huddled together in confusion; in one corner +stood a broken galvanic battery.</p> + +<p>'I warned you, my dear Arkady Nikolaitch,' began Vassily Ivanitch, +'that we live, so to say, bivouacking....'</p> + +<p>'There, stop that, what are you apologising for?' Bazarov interrupted. +'Kirsanov knows very well we're not Croesuses, and that you have no +butler. Where are we going to put him, that's the question?'</p> + +<p>'To be sure, Yevgeny; I have a capital room there in the little lodge; +he will be very comfortable there.'</p> + +<p>'Have you had a lodge put up then?'</p> + +<p>'Why, where the bath-house is,' put in Timofeitch.</p> + +<p>'That is next to the bathroom,' Vassily Ivanitch added hurriedly. 'It's +summer now ... I will run over there at once, and make arrangements; +and you, Timofeitch, meanwhile bring in their things. You, Yevgeny, I +shall of course offer my study. <i>Suum cuique.'</i></p> + +<p>'There you have him! A comical old chap, and very good-natured,' +remarked Bazarov, directly Vassily Ivanitch had gone. 'Just such a +queer fish as yours, only in another way. He chatters too much.'</p> + +<p>'And your mother seems an awfully nice woman,' observed Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Yes, there's no humbug about her. You'll see what a dinner she'll give +us.'</p> + +<p>'They didn't expect you to-day, sir; they've not brought any beef?' +observed Timofeitch, who was just dragging in Bazarov's box.</p> + +<p>'We shall get on very well without beef. It's no use crying for the +moon. Poverty, they say, is no vice.'</p> + +<p>'How many serfs has your father?' Arkady asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>'The estate's not his, but mother's; there are fifteen serfs, if I +remember.'</p> + +<p>'Twenty-two in all,' Timofeitch added, with an air of displeasure.</p> + +<p>The flapping of slippers was heard, and Vassily Ivanovitch reappeared. +'In a few minutes your room will be ready to receive you,' he cried +triumphantly. Arkady ... Nikolaitch? I think that is right? And here is +your attendant,' he added, indicating a short-cropped boy, who had come +in with him in a blue full-skirted coat with ragged elbows and a pair +of boots which did not belong to him. 'His name is Fedka. Again, I +repeat, even though my son tells me not to, you mustn't expect great +things. He knows how to fill a pipe, though. You smoke, of course?'</p> + +<p>'I generally smoke cigars,' answered Arkady.</p> + +<p>'And you do very sensibly. I myself give the preference to cigars, but +in these solitudes it is exceedingly difficult to obtain them.'</p> + +<p>'There, that's enough humble pie,' Bazarov interrupted again. 'You'd +much better sit here on the sofa and let us have a look at you.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch laughed and sat down. He was very like his son in +face, only his brow was lower and narrower, and his mouth rather wider, +and he was for ever restless, shrugging up his shoulder as though his +coat cut him under the armpits, blinking, clearing his throat, and +gesticulating with his fingers, while his son was distinguished by a +kind of nonchalant immobility.</p> + +<p>'Humble-pie!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch. 'You must not imagine, +Yevgeny, I want to appeal, so to speak, to our guest's sympathies by +making out we live in such a wilderness. Quite the contrary, I maintain +that for a thinking man nothing is a wilderness. At least, I try as far +as possible not to get rusty, so to speak, not to fall behind the age.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch drew out of his pocket a new yellow silk +handkerchief, which he had had time to snatch up on the way to Arkady's +room, and flourishing it in the air, he proceeded: 'I am not now +alluding to the fact that, for example, at the cost of sacrifices not +inconsiderable for me, I have put my peasants on the rent-system and +given up my land to them on half profits. I regarded that as my duty; +common sense itself enjoins such a proceeding, though other proprietors +do not even dream of it; I am alluding to the sciences, to culture.'</p> + +<p>'Yes; I see you have here <i>The Friend of Health</i> for 1855,' remarked +Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'It's sent me by an old comrade out of friendship,' Vassily Ivanovitch +made haste to answer; 'but we have, for instance, some idea even of +phrenology,' he added, addressing himself principally, however, to +Arkady, and pointing to a small plaster head on the cupboard, divided +into numbered squares; 'we are not unacquainted even with Schenlein and +Rademacher.'</p> + +<p>'Why do people still believe in Rademacher in this province?' asked +Bazarov.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch cleared his throat. 'In this province.... Of course, +gentlemen, you know best; how could we keep pace with you? You are here +to take our places. In my day, too, there was some sort of a +Humouralist school, Hoffmann, and Brown too with his vitalism—they +seemed very ridiculous to us, but, of course, they too had been great +men at one time or other. Some one new has taken the place of +Rademacher with you; you bow down to him, but in another twenty years +it will be his turn to be laughed at.'</p> + +<p>'For your consolation I will tell you,' observed Bazarov, 'that nowadays +we laugh at medicine altogether, and don't bow down to any one.'</p> + +<p>'How's that? Why, you're going to be a doctor, aren't you?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, but the one fact doesn't prevent the other.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch poked his third finger into his pipe, where a little +smouldering ash was still left. 'Well, perhaps, perhaps—I am not going +to dispute. What am I? A retired army-doctor, <i>volla-too;</i> now fate has +made me take to farming. I served in your grandfather's brigade,' he +addressed himself again to Arkady; 'yes, yes, I have seen many sights +in my day. And I was thrown into all kinds of society, brought into +contact with all sorts of people! I myself, the man you see before you +now, have felt the pulse of Prince Wittgenstein and of Zhukovsky! They +were in the southern army, in the fourteenth, you understand' (and here +Vassily Ivanovitch pursed his mouth up significantly). 'Well, well, but +my business was on one side; stick to your lancet, and let everything +else go hang! Your grandfather was a very honourable man, a real +soldier.'</p> + +<p>'Confess, now, he was rather a blockhead,' remarked Bazarov lazily.</p> + +<p>'Ah, Yevgeny, how can you use such an expression! Do consider.... Of +course, General Kirsanov was not one of the ...'</p> + +<p>'Come, drop him,' broke in Bazarov; 'I was pleased as I was driving +along here to see your birch copse; it has shot up capitally.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch brightened up. 'And you must see what a little +garden I've got now! I planted every tree myself. I've fruit, and +raspberries, and all kinds of medicinal herbs. However clever you young +gentlemen may be, old Paracelsus spoke the holy truth: <i>in herbis +verbis et lapidibus</i>.... I've retired from practice, you know, of +course, but two or three times a week it will happen that I'm brought +back to my old work. They come for advice—I can't drive them away. +Sometimes the poor have recourse to me for help. And indeed there are +no doctors here at all. There's one of the neighbours here, a retired +major, only fancy, he doctors the people too. I asked the question, +"Has he studied medicine?" And they told me, "No, he's not studied; he +does it more from philanthropy."... Ha! ha! ha! from philanthropy! What +do you think of that? Ha! ha! ha!'</p> + +<p>'Fedka, fill me a pipe!' said Bazarov rudely.</p> + +<p>'And there's another doctor here who just got to a patient,' Vassily +Ivanovitch persisted in a kind of desperation, 'when the patient had +gone <i>ad patres;</i> the servant didn't let the doctor speak; you're no +longer wanted, he told him. He hadn't expected this, got confused, and +asked, "Why, did your master hiccup before his death?" "Yes." "Did he +hiccup much?" "Yes." "Ah, well, that's all right," and off he set back +again. Ha! ha! ha!'</p> + +<p>The old man was alone in his laughter; Arkady forced a smile on his +face. Bazarov simply stretched. The conversation went on in this way +for about an hour; Arkady had time to go to his room, which turned out +to be the anteroom attached to the bathroom, but was very snug and +clean. At last Tanyusha came in and announced that dinner was ready.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch was the first to get up. 'Come, gentlemen. You must +be magnanimous and pardon me if I've bored you. I daresay my good wife +will give you more satisfaction.'</p> + +<p>The dinner, though prepared in haste, turned out to be very good, even +abundant; only the wine was not quite up to the mark; it was almost +black sherry, bought by Timofeitch in the town at a well-known +merchant's, and had a faint coppery, resinous taste, and the flies were +a great nuisance. On ordinary days a serf-boy used to keep driving them +away with a large green branch; but on this occasion Vassily Ivanovitch +had sent him away through dread of the criticism of the younger +generation. Arina Vlasyevna had had time to dress: she had put on a +high cap with silk ribbons and a pale blue flowered shawl. She broke +down again directly she caught sight of her Enyusha, but her husband +had no need to admonish her; she made haste to wipe away her tears +herself, for fear of spotting her shawl. Only the young men ate +anything; the master and mistress of the house had dined long ago. +Fedka waited at table, obviously encumbered by having boots on for the +first time; he was assisted by a woman of a masculine cast of face and +one eye, by name Anfisushka, who performed the duties of housekeeper, +poultry-woman, and laundress. Vassily Ivanovitch walked up and down +during the whole of dinner, and with a perfectly happy, positively +beatific countenance, talked about the serious anxiety he felt at +Napoleon's policy, and the intricacy of the Italian question. Arina +Vlasyevna took no notice of Arkady. She did not press him to eat; +leaning her round face, to which the full cherry-coloured lips and the +little moles on the cheeks and over the eyebrows gave a very simple +good-natured expression, on her little closed fist, she did not take +her eyes off her son, and kept constantly sighing; she was dying to +know for how long he had come, but she was afraid to ask him.</p> + +<p>'What if he says for two days,' she thought, and her heart sank. After +the roast Vassily Ivanovitch disappeared for an instant, and returned +with an opened half-bottle of champagne. 'Here,' he cried, 'though we +do live in the wilds, we have something to make merry with on festive +occasions!' He filled three champagne glasses and a little wineglass, +proposed the health of 'our inestimable guests,' and at once tossed off +his glass in military fashion; while he made Arina Vlasyevna drink her +wineglass to the last drop. When the time came in due course for +preserves, Arkady, who could not bear anything sweet, thought it his +duty, however, to taste four different kinds which had been freshly +made, all the more as Bazarov flatly refused them and began at once +smoking a cigarette. Then tea came on the scene with cream, butter, and +cracknels; then Vassily Ivanovitch took them all into the garden to +admire the beauty of the evening. As they passed a garden seat he +whispered to Arkady—</p> + +<p>'At this spot I love to meditate, as I watch the sunset; it suits a +recluse like me. And there, a little farther off, I have planted some +of the trees beloved of Horace.'</p> + +<p>'What trees?' asked Bazarov, overhearing.</p> + +<p>'Oh ... acacias.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov began to yawn.</p> + +<p>'I imagine it's time our travellers were in the arms of Morpheus,' +observed Vassily Ivanovitch.</p> + +<p>'That is, it's time for bed,' Bazarov put in. 'That's a correct idea. +It is time, certainly.'</p> + +<p>As he said good-night to his mother, he kissed her on the forehead, +while she embraced him, and stealthily behind his back she gave him her +blessing three times. Vassily Ivanovitch conducted Arkady to his room, +and wished him 'as refreshing repose as I enjoyed at your happy years.' +And Arkady did as a fact sleep excellently in his bath-house; there was +a smell of mint in it, and two crickets behind the stove rivalled each +other in their drowsy chirping. Vassily Ivanovitch went from Arkady's +room to his study, and perching on the sofa at his son's feet, he was +looking forward to having a chat with him; but Bazarov at once sent him +away, saying he was sleepy, and did not fall asleep till morning. With +wide open eyes he stared vindictively into the darkness; the memories +of childhood had no power over him; and besides, he had not yet had +time to get rid of the impression of his recent bitter emotions. Arina +Vlasyevna first prayed to her heart's content, then she had a long, +long conversation with Anfisushka, who stood stock-still before her +mistress, and fixing her solitary eye upon her, communicated in a +mysterious whisper all her observations and conjectures in regard to +Yevgeny Vassilyevitch. The old lady's head was giddy with happiness and +wine and tobacco smoke; her husband tried to talk to her, but with a +wave of his hand gave it up in despair.</p> + +<p>Arina Vlasyevna was a genuine Russian gentlewoman of the olden times; +she ought to have lived two centuries before, in the old Moscow days. +She was very devout and emotional; she believed in fortune-telling, +charms, dreams, and omens of every possible kind; she believed in the +prophecies of crazy people, in house-spirits, in wood-spirits, in +unlucky meetings, in the evil eye, in popular remedies, she ate +specially prepared salt on Holy Thursday, and believed that the end of +the world was at hand; she believed that if on Easter Sunday the lights +did not go out at vespers, then there would be a good crop of +buckwheat, and that a mushroom will not grow after it has been looked +on by the eye of man; she believed that the devil likes to be where +there is water, and that every Jew has a blood-stained patch on his +breast; she was afraid of mice, of snakes, of frogs, of sparrows, of +leeches, of thunder, of cold water, of draughts, of horses, of goats, +of red-haired people, and black cats, and she regarded crickets and +dogs as unclean beasts; she never ate veal, doves, crayfishes, cheese, +asparagus, artichokes, hares, nor water-melons, because a cut +water-melon suggested the head of John the Baptist, and of oysters she +could not speak without a shudder; she was fond of eating—and fasted +rigidly; she slept ten hours out of the twenty-four—and never went to +bed at all if Vassily Ivanovitch had so much as a headache; she had +never read a single book except <i>Alexis or the Cottage in the Forest;</i> +she wrote one, or at the most two letters in a year, but was great in +housewifery, preserving, and jam-making, though with her own hands she +never touched a thing, and was generally disinclined to move from her +place. Arina Vlasyevna was very kindhearted, and in her way not at all +stupid. She knew that the world is divided into masters whose duty it +is to command, and simple folk whose duty it is to serve them—and so +she felt no repugnance to servility and prostrations to the ground; but +she treated those in subjection to her kindly and gently, never let a +single beggar go away empty-handed, and never spoke ill of any one, +though she was fond of gossip. In her youth she had been pretty, had +played the clavichord, and spoken French a little; but in the course of +many years' wanderings with her husband, whom she had married against +her will, she had grown stout, and forgotten music and French. Her son +she loved and feared unutterably; she had given up the management of +the property to Vassily Ivanovitch—and now did not interfere in +anything; she used to groan, wave her handkerchief, and raise her +eyebrows higher and higher with horror directly her old husband began +to discuss the impending government reforms and his own plans. She was +apprehensive, and constantly expecting some great misfortune, and began +to weep directly she remembered anything sorrowful.... Such women are +not common nowadays. God knows whether we ought to rejoice!</p> +<br><a name="chap21"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XXI</h4> +<br> + +<p>On getting up Arkady opened the window, and the first object that met +his view was Vassily Ivanovitch. In an Oriental dressing-gown girt +round the waist with a pocket-handkerchief he was industriously digging +in his garden. He perceived his young visitor, and leaning on his +spade, he called, 'The best of health to you! How have you slept?'</p> + +<p>'Capitally,' answered Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Here am I, as you see, like some Cincinnatus, marking out a bed for +late turnips. The time has come now—and thank God for it!—when every +one ought to obtain his sustenance with his own hands; it's useless to +reckon on others; one must labour oneself. And it turns out that Jean +Jacques Rousseau is right. Half an hour ago, my dear young gentleman, +you might have seen me in a totally different position. One peasant +woman, who complained of looseness—that's how they express it, but in +our language, dysentery—I ... how can I express it best? I +administered opium, and for another I extracted a tooth. I proposed an +anæsthetic to her ... but she would not consent. All that I do +<i>gratis</i>—<i>anamatyer (en amateur).</i> I'm used to it, though; you see, +I'm a plebeian, <i>homo novus</i>—not one of the old stock, not like my +spouse.... Wouldn't you like to come this way into the shade, to +breathe the morning freshness a little before tea?'</p> + +<p>Arkady went out to him.</p> + +<p>'Welcome once again,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, raising his hand in a +military salute to the greasy skull-cap which covered his head. 'You, I +know, are accustomed to luxury, to amusements, but even the great ones +of this world do not disdain to spend a brief space under a cottage +roof.'</p> + +<p>'Good heavens,' protested Arkady, 'as though I were one of the great +ones of this world! And I'm not accustomed to luxury.'</p> + +<p>'Pardon me, pardon me,' rejoined Vassily Ivanovitch with a polite +simper. 'Though I am laid on the shelf now, I have knocked about the +world too—I can tell a bird by its flight. I am something of a +psychologist too in my own way, and a physiognomist. If I had not, I +will venture to say, been endowed with that gift, I should have come to +grief long ago; I should have stood no chance, a poor man like me. I +tell you without flattery, I am sincerely delighted at the friendship I +observe between you and my son. I have just seen him; he got up as he +usually does—no doubt you are aware of it—very early, and went a +ramble about the neighbourhood. Permit me to inquire—have you known my +son long?'</p> + +<p>'Since last winter.'</p> + +<p>'Indeed. And permit me to question you further—but hadn't we better +sit down? Permit me, as a father, to ask without reserve, What is your +opinion of my Yevgeny?'</p> + +<p>'Your son is one of the most remarkable men I have ever met,' Arkady +answered emphatically.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch's eyes suddenly grew round, and his cheeks were +suffused with a faint flush. The spade fell out of his hand.</p> + +<p>'And so you expect,' he began ...</p> + +<p>'I'm convinced,' Arkady put in, 'that your son has a great future +before him; that he will do honour to your name. I've been certain of +that ever since I first met him.'</p> + +<p>'How ... how was that?' Vassily Ivanovitch articulated with an effort. +His wide mouth was relaxed in a triumphant smile, which would not leave +it.</p> + +<p>'Would you like me to tell you how we met?'</p> + +<p>'Yes ... and altogether....'</p> + +<p>Arkady began to tell his tale, and to talk of Bazarov with even greater +warmth, even greater enthusiasm than he had done on the evening when he +danced a mazurka with Madame Odintsov.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch listened and listened, blinked, and rolled his +handkerchief up into a ball in both his hands, cleared his throat, +ruffled up his hair, and at last could stand it no longer; he bent down +to Arkady and kissed him on his shoulder. 'You have made me perfectly +happy,' he said, never ceasing to smile. 'I ought to tell you, I ... +idolise my son; my old wife I won't speak of—we all know what mothers +are!—but I dare not show my feelings before him, because he doesn't +like it. He is averse to every kind of demonstration of feeling; many +people even find fault with him for such firmness of character, and +regard it as a proof of pride or lack of feeling, but men like him +ought not to be judged by the common standard, ought they? And here, +for example, many another fellow in his place would have been a +constant drag on his parents; but he, would you believe it? has never +from the day he was born taken a farthing more than he could help, +that's God's truth!'</p> + +<p>'He is a disinterested, honest man,' observed Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Exactly so; he is disinterested. And I don't only idolise him, Arkady +Nikolaitch, I am proud of him, and the height of my ambition is that +some day there will be the following lines in his biography: "The son +of a simple army-doctor, who was, however, capable of divining his +greatness betimes, and spared nothing for his education ..."' The old +man's voice broke.</p> + +<p>Arkady pressed his hand.</p> + +<p>'What do you think,' inquired Vassily Ivanovitch, after a short +silence, 'will it be in the career of medicine that he will attain the +celebrity you anticipate for him?'</p> + +<p>'Of course, not in medicine, though even in that department he will be +one of the leading scientific men.'</p> + +<p>'In what then, Arkady Nikolaitch?'</p> + +<p>'It would he hard to say now, but he will be famous.'</p> + +<p>'He will be famous!' repeated the old man, and he sank into a reverie.</p> + +<p>'Arina Vlasyevna sent me to call you in to tea,' announced Anfisushka, +coming by with an immense dish of ripe raspberries.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch started. 'And will there be cooled cream for the +raspberries?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Cold now, mind! Don't stand on ceremony, Arkady Nikolaitch; take some +more. How is it Yevgeny doesn't come?'</p> + +<p>'I'm here,' was heard Bazarov's voice from Arkady's room.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch turned round quickly. 'Aha! you wanted to pay a +visit to your friend; but you were too late, <i>amice,</i> and we have +already had a long conversation with him. Now we must go in to tea, +mother summons us. By the way, I want to have a little talk with you.'</p> + +<p>'What about?'</p> + +<p>'There's a peasant here; he's suffering from icterus....</p> + +<p>'You mean jaundice?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, a chronic and very obstinate case of icterus. I have prescribed +him centaury and St. John's wort, ordered him to eat carrots, given him +soda; but all that's merely palliative measures; we want some more +decided treatment. Though you do laugh at medicine, I am certain you +can give me practical advice. But we will talk of that later. Now come +in to tea.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up briskly from the garden seat, and hummed +from <i>Robert le Diable</i>—</p> + +<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem3"> + <tr><td><small>'The rule, the rule we set ourselves,<br> + To live, to live for pleasure!'</small></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>'Singular vitality!' observed Bazarov, going away from the window.</p> + +<p>It was midday. The sun was burning hot behind a thin veil of unbroken +whitish clouds. Everything was hushed; there was no sound but the cocks +crowing irritably at one another in the village, producing in every one +who heard them a strange sense of drowsiness and ennui; and somewhere, +high up in a tree-top, the incessant plaintive cheep of a young hawk. +Arkady and Bazarov lay in the shade of a small haystack, putting under +themselves two armfuls of dry and rustling, but still greenish and +fragrant grass.</p> + +<p>'That aspen-tree,' began Bazarov, 'reminds me of my childhood; it grows +at the edge of the clay-pits where the bricks were dug, and in those +days I believed firmly that that clay-pit and aspen-tree possessed a +peculiar talismanic power; I never felt dull near them. I did not +understand then that I was not dull, because I was a child. Well, now +I'm grown up, the talisman's lost its power.'</p> + +<p>'How long did you live here altogether?' asked Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Two years on end; then we travelled about. We led a roving life, +wandering from town to town for the most part.'</p> + +<p>'And has this house been standing long?'</p> + +<p>'Yes. My grandfather built it—my mother's father.'</p> + +<p>'Who was he—your grandfather?'</p> + +<p>'Devil knows. Some second-major. He served with Suvorov, and was always +telling stories about the crossing of the Alps—inventions probably.'</p> + +<p>'You have a portrait of Suvorov hanging in the drawing-room. I like +these dear little houses like yours; they're so warm and old-fashioned; +and there's always a special sort of scent about them.'</p> + +<p>'A smell of lamp-oil and clover,' Bazarov remarked, yawning. 'And the +flies in those dear little houses.... Faugh!'</p> + +<p>'Tell me,' began Arkady, after a brief pause, 'were they strict with +you when you were a child?'</p> + +<p>'You can see what my parents are like. They're not a severe sort.'</p> + +<p>'Are you fond of them, Yevgeny?'</p> + +<p>'I am, Arkady.'</p> + +<p>'How fond they are of you!'</p> + +<p>Bazarov was silent for a little. 'Do you know what I'm thinking about?' +he brought out at last, clasping his hands behind his head.</p> + +<p>'No. What is it?'</p> + +<p>'I'm thinking life is a happy thing for my parents. My father at sixty +is fussing around, talking about "palliative" measures, doctoring +people, playing the bountiful master with the peasants—having a +festive time, in fact; and my mother's happy too; her day's so chockful +of duties of all sorts, and sighs and groans that she's no time even to +think of herself; while I ...'</p> + +<p>'While you?'</p> + +<p>'I think; here I lie under a haystack.... The tiny space I occupy is so +infinitely small in comparison with the rest of space, in which I am +not, and which has nothing to do with me; and the period of time in +which it is my lot to live is so petty beside the eternity in which I +have not been, and shall not be.... And in this atom, this mathematical +point, the blood is circulating, the brain is working and wanting +something.... Isn't it loathsome? Isn't it petty?'</p> + +<p>'Allow me to remark that what you're saying applies to men in general.'</p> + +<p>'You are right,' Bazarov cut in. 'I was going to say that they now—my +parents, I mean—are absorbed and don't trouble themselves about their +own nothingness; it doesn't sicken them ... while I ... I feel nothing +but weariness and anger.'</p> + +<p>'Anger? why anger?'</p> + +<p>'Why? How can you ask why? Have you forgotten?'</p> + +<p>'I remember everything, but still I don't admit that you have any right +to be angry. You're unlucky, I'll allow, but ...'</p> + +<p>'Pooh! then you, Arkady Nikolaevitch, I can see, regard love like all +modern young men; cluck, cluck, cluck you call to the hen, but if the +hen comes near you, you run away. I'm not like that. But that's enough +of that. What can't be helped, it's shameful to talk about.' He turned +over on his side. 'Aha! there goes a valiant ant dragging off a +half-dead fly. Take her, brother, take her! Don't pay attention to her +resistance; it's your privilege as an animal to be free from the +sentiment of pity—make the most of it—not like us conscientious +self-destructive animals!'</p> + +<p>'You shouldn't say that, Yevgeny! When have you destroyed yourself?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov raised his head. 'That's the only thing I pride myself on. I +haven't crushed myself, so a woman can't crush me. Amen! It's all over! +You shall not hear another word from me about it.'</p> + +<p>Both the friends lay for some time in silence.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' began Bazarov, 'man's a strange animal. When one gets a side +view from a distance of the dead-alive life our "fathers" lead here, +one thinks, What could be better? You eat and drink, and know you are +acting in the most reasonable, most judicious manner. But if not, +you're devoured by ennui. One wants to have to do with people if only +to abuse them.'</p> + +<p>'One ought so to order one's life that every moment in it should be of +significance,' Arkady affirmed reflectively.</p> + +<p>'I dare say! What's of significance is sweet, however mistaken; one +could make up one's mind to what's insignificant even. But pettiness, +pettiness, that's what's insufferable.'</p> + +<p>'Pettiness doesn't exist for a man so long as he refuses to recognise +it.'</p> + +<p>'H'm ... what you've just said is a common-place reversed.'</p> + +<p>'What? What do you mean by that term?'</p> + +<p>'I'll tell you; saying, for instance, that education is beneficial, +that's a common-place; but to say that education is injurious, that's a +common-place turned upside down. There's more style about it, so to +say, but in reality it's one and the same.'</p> + +<p>'And the truth is—where, which side?'</p> + +<p>'Where? Like an echo I answer, Where?'</p> + +<p>'You're in a melancholy mood to-day, Yevgeny.'</p> + +<p>'Really? The sun must have softened my brain, I suppose, and I can't +stand so many raspberries either.'</p> + +<p>'In that case, a nap's not a bad thing,' observed Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Certainly; only don't look at me; every man's face is stupid when he's +asleep.'</p> + +<p>'But isn't it all the same to you what people think of you?'</p> + +<p>'I don't know what to say to you. A real man ought not to care; a real +man is one whom it's no use thinking about, whom one must either obey +or hate.'</p> + +<p>'It's funny! I don't hate anybody,' observed Arkady, after a moment's +thought.</p> + +<p>'And I hate so many. You are a soft-hearted, mawkish creature; how +could you hate any one?... You're timid; you don't rely on yourself +much.'</p> + +<p>'And you,' interrupted Arkady, 'do you expect much of yourself? Have +you a high opinion of yourself?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov paused. 'When I meet a man who can hold his own beside me,' he +said, dwelling on every syllable, 'then I'll change my opinion of +myself. Yes, hatred! You said, for instance, to-day as we passed our +bailiff Philip's cottage—it's the one that's so nice and clean—well, +you said, Russia will come to perfection when the poorest peasant has a +house like that, and every one of us ought to work to bring it +about.... And I felt such a hatred for this poorest peasant, this +Philip or Sidor, for whom I'm to be ready to jump out of my skin, and +who won't even thank me for it ... and why should he thank me? Why, +suppose he does live in a clean house, while the nettles are growing +out of me,—well what do I gain by it?'</p> + +<p>'Hush, Yevgeny ... if one listened to you to-day one would be driven to +agreeing with those who reproach us for want of principles.'</p> + +<p>'You talk like your uncle. There are no general principles—you've not +made out that even yet! There are feelings. Everything depends on +them.'</p> + +<p>'How so?'</p> + +<p>'Why, I, for instance, take up a negative attitude, by virtue of my +sensations; I like to deny—my brain's made on that plan, and that's +all about it! Why do I like chemistry? Why do you like apples?—by +virtue of our sensations. It's all the same thing. Deeper than that men +will never penetrate. Not every one will tell you that, and, in fact, I +shan't tell you so another time.'</p> + +<p>'What? and is honesty a matter of the senses?'</p> + +<p>'I should rather think so.'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny!' Arkady was beginning in a dejected voice ...</p> + +<p>'Well? What? Isn't it to your taste?' broke in Bazarov. 'No, brother. +If you've made up your mind to mow down everything, don't spare your +own legs. But we've talked enough metaphysics. "Nature breathes the +silence of sleep," said Pushkin.'</p> + +<p>'He never said anything of the sort,' protested Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Well, if he didn't, as a poet he might have—and ought to have said +it. By the way, he must have been a military man.'</p> + +<p>'Pushkin never was a military man!'</p> + +<p>'Why, on every page of him there's, "To arms! to arms! for Russia's +honour!"'</p> + +<p>'Why, what stories you invent! I declare, it's positive calumny.'</p> + +<p>'Calumny? That's a mighty matter! What a word he's found to frighten me +with! Whatever charge you make against a man, you may be certain he +deserves twenty times worse than that in reality.'</p> + +<p>'We had better go to sleep,' said Arkady, in a tone of vexation.</p> + +<p>'With the greatest pleasure,' answered Bazarov. But neither of them +slept. A feeling almost of hostility had come over both the young men. +Five minutes later, they opened their eyes and glanced at one another +in silence.</p> + +<p>'Look,' said Arkady suddenly, 'a dry maple leaf has come off and is +falling to the earth; its movement is exactly like a butterfly's +flight. Isn't it strange? Gloom and decay—like brightness and life.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, my friend, Arkady Nikolaitch!' cried Bazarov, 'one thing I entreat +of you; no fine talk.'</p> + +<p>'I talk as best I can.... And, I declare, its perfect despotism. An +idea came into my head; why shouldn't I utter it?'</p> + +<p>'Yes; and why shouldn't I utter my ideas? I think that fine talk's +positively indecent.'</p> + +<p>'And what is decent? Abuse?'</p> + +<p>'Ha! ha! you really do intend, I see, to walk in your uncle's +footsteps. How pleased that worthy imbecile would have been if he had +heard you!'</p> + +<p>'What did you call Pavel Petrovitch?'</p> + +<p>'I called him, very justly, an imbecile.'</p> + +<p>'But this is unbearable!' cried Arkady.</p> + +<p>'Aha! family feeling spoke there,' Bazarov commented coolly. 'I've +noticed how obstinately it sticks to people. A man's ready to give up +everything and break with every prejudice; but to admit that his +brother, for instance, who steals handkerchiefs, is a thief—that's too +much for him. And when one comes to think of it: my brother, mine—and +no genius ... that's an idea no one can swallow.'</p> + +<p>'It was a simple sense of justice spoke in me and not in the least +family feeling,' retorted Arkady passionately. 'But since that's a +sense you don't understand, since you haven't that sensation, you can't +judge of it.'</p> + +<p>'In other words, Arkady Kirsanov is too exalted for my comprehension. I +bow down before him and say no more.'</p> + +<p>'Don't, please, Yevgeny; we shall really quarrel at last.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, Arkady! do me a kindness. I entreat you, let us quarrel for once +in earnest....'</p> + +<p>'But then perhaps we should end by ...'</p> + +<p>'Fighting?' put in Bazarov. 'Well? Here, on the hay, in these idyllic +surroundings, far from the world and the eyes of men, it wouldn't +matter. But you'd be no match for me. I'll have you by the throat in a +minute.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov spread out his long, cruel fingers.... Arkady turned round and +prepared, as though in jest, to resist.... But his friend's face struck +him as so vindictive—there was such menace in grim earnest in the +smile that distorted his lips, and in his glittering eyes, that he felt +instinctively afraid.</p> + +<p>'Ah! so this is where you have got to!' the voice of Vassily Ivanovitch +was heard saying at that instant, and the old army-doctor appeared +before the young men, garbed in a home-made linen pea-jacket, with a +straw hat, also home-made, on his head. 'I've been looking everywhere +for you.... Well, you've picked out a capital place, and you're +excellently employed. Lying on the "earth, gazing up to heaven." Do you +know, there's a special significance in that?'</p> + +<p>'I never gaze up to heaven except when I want to sneeze,' growled +Bazarov, and turning to Arkady he added in an undertone. 'Pity he +interrupted us.'</p> + +<p>'Come, hush!' whispered Arkady, and he secretly squeezed his friend's +hand. But no friendship can long stand such shocks.</p> + +<p>'I look at you, my youthful friends,' Vassily Ivanovitch was saying +meantime, shaking his head, and leaning his folded arms on a rather +cunningly bent stick of his own carving, with a Turk's figure for a +top,—'I look, and I cannot refrain from admiration. You have so much +strength, such youth and bloom, such abilities, such talents! +Positively, a Castor and Pollux!'</p> + +<p>'Get along with you—going off into mythology!' commented Bazarov. 'You +can see at once that he was a great Latinist in his day! Why, I seem to +remember, you gained the silver medal for Latin prose—didn't you?'</p> + +<p>'The Dioscuri, the Dioscuri!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch.</p> + +<p>'Come, shut up, father; don't show off.'</p> + +<p>'Once in a way it's surely permissible,' murmured the old man. +'However, I have not been seeking for you, gentlemen, to pay you +compliments; but with the object, in the first place, of announcing to +you that we shall soon be dining; and secondly, I wanted to prepare +you, Yevgeny.... You are a sensible man, you know the world, and you +know what women are, and consequently you will excuse.... Your mother +wished to have a Te Deum sung on the occasion of your arrival. You must +not imagine that I am inviting you to attend this thanksgiving—it is +over indeed now; but Father Alexey ...'</p> + +<p>'The village parson?'</p> + +<p>'Well, yes, the priest; he ... is to dine ... with us.... I did not +anticipate this, and did not even approve of it ... but it somehow came +about ... he did not understand me.... And, well ... Arina Vlasyevna +... Besides, he's a worthy, reasonable man.'</p> + +<p>'He won't eat my share at dinner, I suppose?' queried Bazarov.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch laughed. 'How you talk!'</p> + +<p>'Well, that's all I ask. I'm ready to sit down to table with any man.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch set his hat straight. 'I was certain before I +spoke,' he said, 'that you were above any kind of prejudice. Here am I, +an old man at sixty-two, and I have none.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not +dare to confess that he had himself desired the thanksgiving service. +He was no less religious than his wife.) 'And Father Alexey very much +wanted to make your acquaintance. You will like him, you'll see. He's +no objection even to cards, and he sometimes—but this is between +ourselves ... positively smokes a pipe.'</p> + +<p>'All right. We'll have a round of whist after dinner, and I'll clean +him out.'</p> + +<p>'He! he! he! We shall see! That remains to be seen.'</p> + +<p>'I know you're an old hand,' said Bazarov, with a peculiar emphasis.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch's bronzed cheeks were suffused with an uneasy flush.</p> + +<p>'For shame, Yevgeny.... Let bygones be bygones. Well, I'm ready to +acknowledge before this gentleman I had that passion in my youth; and I +have paid for it too! How hot it is, though! Let me sit down with you. +I shan't be in your way, I hope?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, not at all,' answered Arkady.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch lowered himself, sighing, into the hay. 'Your +present quarters remind me, my dear sirs,' he began, 'of my military +bivouacking existence, the ambulance halts, somewhere like this under a +haystack, and even for that we were thankful.' He sighed. 'I had many, +many experiences in my life. For example, if you will allow me, I will +tell you a curious episode of the plague in Bessarabia.'</p> + +<p>'For which you got the Vladimir cross?' put in Bazarov. 'We know, we +know.... By the way, why is it you're not wearing it?'</p> + +<p>'Why, I told you that I have no prejudices,' muttered Vassily +Ivanovitch (he had only the evening before had the red ribbon unpicked +off his coat), and he proceeded to relate the episode of the plague. +'Why, he's fallen asleep,' he whispered all at once to Arkady, pointing +to Yevgeny, and winking good-naturedly. 'Yevgeny! get up,' he went on +aloud. 'Let's go in to dinner.'</p> + +<p>Father Alexey, a good-looking stout man with thick, carefully-combed +hair, with an embroidered girdle round his lilac silk cassock, appeared +to be a man of much tact and adaptability. He made haste to be the +first to offer his hand to Arkady and Bazarov, as though understanding +beforehand that they did not want his blessing, and he behaved himself +in general without constraint. He neither derogated from his own +dignity, nor gave offence to others; he vouchsafed a passing smile at +the seminary Latin, and stood up for his bishop; drank two small +glasses of wine, but refused a third; accepted a cigar from Arkady, but +did not proceed to smoke it, saying he would take it home with him. The +only thing not quite agreeable about him was a way he had of constantly +raising his hand with care and deliberation to catch the flies on his +face, sometimes succeeding in smashing them. He took his seat at the +green table, expressing his satisfaction at so doing in measured terms, +and ended by winning from Bazarov two roubles and a half in paper +money; they had no idea of even reckoning in silver in the house of +Arina Vlasyevna.... She was sitting, as before, near her son (she did +not play cards), her cheek, as before, propped on her little fist; she +only got up to order some new dainty to be served. She was afraid to +caress Bazarov, and he gave her no encouragement, he did not invite her +caresses; and besides, Vassily Ivanovitch had advised her not to +'worry' him too much. 'Young men are not fond of that sort of thing,' +he declared to her. (It's needless to say what the dinner was like that +day; Timofeitch in person had galloped off at early dawn for beef; the +bailiff had gone off in another direction for turbot, gremille, and +crayfish; for mushrooms alone forty-two farthings had been paid the +peasant women in copper); but Arina Vlasyevna's eyes, bent steadfastly +on Bazarov, did not express only devotion and tenderness; in them was +to be seen sorrow also, mingled with awe and curiosity; there was to be +seen too a sort of humble reproachfulness.</p> + +<p>Bazarov, however, was not in a humour to analyse the exact expression +of his mother's eyes; he seldom turned to her, and then only with some +short question. Once he asked her for her hand 'for luck'; she gently +laid her soft, little hand on his rough, broad palm.</p> + +<p>'Well,' she asked, after waiting a little, 'has it been any use?'</p> + +<p>'Worse luck than ever,' he answered, with a careless laugh.</p> + +<p>'He plays too rashly,' pronounced Father Alexey, as it were +compassionately, and he stroked his beard.</p> + +<p>'Napoleon's rule, good Father, Napoleon's rule,' put in Vassily +Ivanovitch, leading an ace.</p> + +<p>'It brought him to St. Helena, though,' observed Father Alexey, as he +trumped the ace.</p> + +<p>'Wouldn't you like some currant tea, Enyusha?' inquired Arina +Vlasyevna.</p> + +<p>Bazarov merely shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>'No!' he said to Arkady the next day. I'm off from here to-morrow. I'm +bored; I want to work, but I can't work here. I will come to your place +again; I've left all my apparatus there too. In your house one can at +any rate shut oneself up. While here my father repeats to me, "My study +is at your disposal—nobody shall interfere with you," and all the time +he himself is never a yard away. And I'm ashamed somehow to shut myself +away from him. It's the same thing too with mother. I hear her sighing +the other side of the wall, and if one goes in to her, one's nothing to +say to her.'</p> + +<p>'She will be very much grieved,' observed Arkady, 'and so will he.'</p> + +<p>'I shall come back again to them.'</p> + +<p>'When?'</p> + +<p>'Why, when on my way to Petersburg.'</p> + +<p>'I feel sorry for your mother particularly.'</p> + +<p>'Why's that? Has she won your heart with strawberries, or what?'</p> + +<p>Arkady dropped his eyes. 'You don't understand your mother, Yevgeny. +She's not only a very good woman, she's very clever really. This +morning she talked to me for half-an-hour, and so sensibly, +interestingly.'</p> + +<p>'I suppose she was expatiating upon me all the while?'</p> + +<p>'We didn't talk only about you.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps; lookers-on see most. If a woman can keep up half-an-hour's +conversation, it's always a hopeful sign. But I'm going, all the same.'</p> + +<p>'It won't be very easy for you to break it to them. They are always +making plans for what we are to do in a fortnight's time.'</p> + +<p>'No; it won't be easy. Some demon drove me to tease my father to-day; +he had one of his rent-paying peasants flogged the other day, and quite +right too—yes, yes, you needn't look at me in such horror—he did +quite right, because he's an awful thief and drunkard; only my father +had no idea that I, as they say, was cognisant of the facts. He was +greatly perturbed, and now I shall have to upset him more than ever.... +Never mind! Never say die! He'll get over it!'</p> + +<p>Bazarov said, 'Never mind'; but the whole day passed before he could +make up his mind to inform Vassily Ivanovitch of his intentions. At +last, when he was just saying good-night to him in the study, he +observed, with a feigned yawn—</p> + +<p>'Oh ... I was almost forgetting to tell you.... Send to Fedot's for our +horses to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch was dumbfounded. 'Is Mr. Kirsanov leaving us, then?'</p> + +<p>'Yes; and I'm going with him.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch positively reeled. 'You are going?'</p> + +<p>'Yes ... I must. Make the arrangements about the horses, please.'</p> + +<p>'Very good....' faltered the old man; 'to Fedot's ... very good ... +only ... only.... How is it?'</p> + +<p>'I must go to stay with him for a little time. I will come back again +later.'</p> + +<p>'Ah! For a little time ... very good.' Vassily Ivanovitch drew out his +handkerchief, and, blowing his nose, doubled up almost to the ground. +'Well ... everything shall be done. I had thought you were to be with +us ... a little longer. Three days.... After three years, it's rather +little; rather little, Yevgeny!'</p> + +<p>'But, I tell you, I'm coming back directly. It's necessary for me to +go.'</p> + +<p>'Necessary.... Well! Duty before everything. So the horses shall be in +readiness. Very good. Arina and I, of course, did not anticipate this. +She has just begged some flowers from a neighbour; she meant to +decorate the room for you.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not even mention +that every morning almost at dawn he took counsel with Timofeitch, +standing with his bare feet in his slippers, and pulling out with +trembling fingers one dog's-eared rouble note after another, charged +him with various purchases, with special reference to good things to +eat, and to red wine, which, as far as he could observe, the young men +liked extremely.) 'Liberty ... is the great thing; that's my rule.... I +don't want to hamper you ... not ...'</p> + +<p>He suddenly ceased, and made for the door.</p> + +<p>'We shall soon see each other again, father, really.'</p> + +<p>But Vassily Ivanovitch, without turning round, merely waved his hand +and was gone. When he got back to his bedroom he found his wife in bed, +and began to say his prayers in a whisper, so as not to wake her up. +She woke, however. 'Is that you, Vassily Ivanovitch?' she asked.</p> + +<p>'Yes, mother.'</p> + +<p>'Have you come from Enyusha? Do you know, I'm afraid of his not being +comfortable on that sofa. I told Anfisushka to put him on your +travelling mattress and the new pillows; I should have given him our +feather-bed, but I seem to remember he doesn't like too soft a bed....'</p> + +<p>'Never mind, mother; don't worry yourself. He's all right. Lord, have +mercy on me, a sinner,' he went on with his prayer in a low voice. +Vassily Ivanovitch was sorry for his old wife; he did not mean to tell +her over night what a sorrow there was in store for her.</p> + +<p>Bazarov and Arkady set off the next day. From early morning all was +dejection in the house; Anfisushka let the tray slip out of her hands; +even Fedka was bewildered, and was reduced to taking off his boots. +Vassily Ivanitch was more fussy than ever; he was obviously trying to +put a good face on it, talked loudly, and stamped with his feet, but +his face looked haggard, and his eyes were continually avoiding his +son. Arina Vlasyevna was crying quietly; she was utterly crushed, and +could not have controlled herself at all if her husband had not spent +two whole hours early in the morning exhorting her. When Bazarov, after +repeated promises to come back certainly not later than in a month's +time, tore himself at last from the embraces detaining him, and took +his seat in the coach; when the horses had started, the bell was +ringing, and the wheels were turning round, and when it was no longer +any good to look after them, and the dust had settled, and Timofeitch, +all bent and tottering as he walked, had crept back to his little room; +when the old people were left alone in their little house, which seemed +suddenly to have grown shrunken and decrepit too, Vassily Ivanovitch, +after a few more moments of hearty waving of his handkerchief on the +steps, sank into a chair, and his head dropped on to his breast. 'He +has cast us off; he has forsaken us,' he faltered; 'forsaken us; he was +dull with us. Alone, alone!' he repeated several times. Then Arina +Vlasyevna went up to him, and, leaning her grey head against his grey +head, said, 'There's no help for it, Vasya! A son is a separate piece +cut off. He's like the falcon that flies home and flies away at his +pleasure; while you and I are like funguses in the hollow of a tree, we +sit side by side, and don't move from our place. Only I am left you +unchanged for ever, as you for me.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch took his hands from his face and clasped his wife, +his friend, as warmly as he had never clasped in youth; she comforted +him in his grief.</p> +<br><a name="chap22"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XXII</h4> +<br> + +<p>In silence, only rarely exchanging a few insignificant words, our +friends travelled as far as Fedot's. Bazarov was not altogether pleased +with himself. Arkady was displeased with him. He was feeling, too, that +causeless melancholy which is only known to very young people. The +coachman changed the horses, and getting up on to the box, inquired, +'To the right or to the left?'</p> + +<p>Arkady started. The road to the right led to the town, and from there +home; the road to the left led to Madame Odintsov's.</p> + +<p>He looked at Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny,' he queried; 'to the left?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov turned away. 'What folly is this?' he muttered.</p> + +<p>'I know it's folly,' answered Arkady.... 'But what does that matter? +It's not the first time.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov pulled his cap down over his brows. 'As you choose,' he said at +last. 'Turn to the left,' shouted Arkady.</p> + +<p>The coach rolled away in the direction of Nikolskoe. But having +resolved on the folly, the friends were even more obstinately silent +than before, and seemed positively ill-humoured.</p> + +<p>Directly the steward met them on the steps of Madame Odintsov's house, +the friends could perceive that they had acted injudiciously in giving +way so suddenly to a passing impulse. They were obviously not expected. +They sat rather a long while, looking rather foolish, in the +drawing-room. Madame Odintsov came in to them at last. She greeted them +with her customary politeness, but was surprised at their hasty return; +and, so far as could be judged from the deliberation of her gestures +and words, she was not over pleased at it. They made haste to announce +that they had only called on their road, and must go on farther, to the +town, within four hours. She confined herself to a light exclamation, +begged Arkady to remember her to his father, and sent for her aunt. The +princess appeared very sleepy, which gave her wrinkled old face an even +more ill-natured expression. Katya was not well; she did not leave her +room. Arkady suddenly realised that he was at least as anxious to see +Katya as Anna Sergyevna herself. The four hours were spent in +insignificant discussion of one thing and another; Anna Sergyevna both +listened and spoke without a smile. It was only quite at parting that +her former friendliness seemed, as it were, to revive.</p> + +<p>'I have an attack of spleen just now,' she said; 'but you must not pay +attention to that, and come again—I say this to both of you—before +long.'</p> + +<p>Both Bazarov and Arkady responded with a silent bow, took their seats +in the coach, and without stopping again anywhere, went straight home +to Maryino, where they arrived safely on the evening of the following +day. During the whole course of the journey neither one nor the other +even mentioned the name of Madame Odintsov; Bazarov, in particular, +scarcely opened his mouth, and kept staring in a side direction away +from the road, with a kind of exasperated intensity.</p> + +<p>At Maryino every one was exceedingly delighted to see them. The +prolonged absence of his son had begun to make Nikolai Petrovitch +uneasy; he uttered a cry of joy, and bounced about on the sofa, +dangling his legs, when Fenitchka ran to him with sparkling eyes, and +informed him of the arrival of the 'young gentlemen'; even Pavel +Petrovitch was conscious of some degree of agreeable excitement, and +smiled condescendingly as he shook hands with the returned wanderers. +Talk, questions followed; Arkady talked most, especially at supper, +which was prolonged long after midnight. Nikolai Petrovitch ordered up +some bottles of porter which had only just been sent from Moscow, and +partook of the festive beverage till his cheeks were crimson, and he +kept laughing in a half-childish, half-nervous little chuckle. Even the +servants were infected by the general gaiety. Dunyasha ran up and down +like one possessed, and was continually slamming doors; while Piotr +was, at three o'clock in the morning, still attempting to strum a +Cossack waltz on the guitar. The strings gave forth a sweet and +plaintive sound in the still air; but with the exception of a small +preliminary flourish, nothing came of the cultured valet's efforts; +nature had given him no more musical talent than all the rest of the +world.</p> + +<p>But meanwhile things were not going over harmoniously at Maryino, and +poor Nikolai Petrovitch was having a bad time of it. Difficulties on +the farm sprang up every day—senseless, distressing difficulties. The +troubles with the hired labourers had become insupportable. Some asked +for their wages to be settled, or for an increase of wages, while +others made off with the wages they had received in advance; the horses +fell sick; the harness fell to pieces as though it were burnt; the work +was carelessly done; a threshing machine that had been ordered from +Moscow turned out to be useless from its great weight, another was +ruined the first time it was used; half the cattle sheds were burnt +down through an old blind woman on the farm going in windy weather with +a burning brand to fumigate her cow ... the old woman, it is true, +maintained that the whole mischief could be traced to the master's plan +of introducing newfangled cheeses and milk-products. The overseer +suddenly turned lazy, and began to grow fat, as every Russian grows fat +when he gets a snug berth. When he caught sight of Nikolai Petrovitch +in the distance, he would fling a stick at a passing pig, or threaten a +half-naked urchin, to show his zeal, but the rest of the time he was +generally asleep. The peasants who had been put on the rent system did +not bring their money at the time due, and stole the forest-timber; +almost every night the keepers caught peasants' horses in the meadows +of the 'farm,' and sometimes forcibly bore them off. Nikolai Petrovitch +would fix a money fine for damages, but the matter usually ended after +the horses had been kept a day or two on the master's forage by their +returning to their owners. To crown all, the peasants began quarrelling +among themselves; brothers asked for a division of property, their +wives could not get on together in one house; all of a sudden the +squabble, as though at a given signal, came to a head, and at once the +whole village came running to the counting-house steps, crawling to the +master often drunken and with battered face, demanding justice and +judgment; then arose an uproar and clamour, the shrill wailing of the +women mixed with the curses of the men. Then one had to examine the +contending parties, and shout oneself hoarse, knowing all the while +that one could never anyway arrive at a just decision.... There were +not hands enough for the harvest; a neighbouring small owner, with the +most benevolent countenance, contracted to supply him with reapers for +a commission of two roubles an acre, and cheated him in the most +shameless fashion; his peasant women demanded unheard-of sums, and the +corn meanwhile went to waste; and here they were not getting on with +the mowing, and there the Council of Guardians threatened and demanded +prompt payment, in full, of interest due....</p> + +<p>'I can do nothing!' Nikolai Petrovitch cried more than once in despair. +'I can't flog them myself; and as for calling in the police captain, my +principles don't allow of it, while you can do nothing with them +without the fear of punishment!'</p> + +<p><i>'Du calme, du calme,'</i> Pavel Petrovitch would remark upon this, but +even he hummed to himself, knitted his brows, and tugged at his +moustache.</p> + +<p>Bazarov held aloof from these matters, and indeed as a guest it was not +for him to meddle in other people's business. The day after his arrival +at Maryino, he set to work on his frogs, his infusoria, and his +chemical experiments, and was for ever busy with them. Arkady, on the +contrary, thought it his duty, if not to help his father, at least to +make a show of being ready to help him. He gave him a patient hearing, +and once offered him some advice, not with any idea of its being acted +upon, but to show his interest. Farming details did not arouse any +aversion in him; he used even to dream with pleasure of work on the +land, but at this time his brain was swarming with other ideas. Arkady, +to his own astonishment, thought incessantly of Nikolskoe; in former +days he would simply have shrugged his shoulders if any one had told +him that he could ever feel dull under the same roof as Bazarov—and +that roof his father's! but he actually was dull and longed to get +away. He tried going long walks till he was tired, but that was no use. +In conversation with his father one day, he found out that Nikolai +Petrovitch had in his possession rather interesting letters, written by +Madame Odintsov's mother to his wife, and he gave him no rest till he +got hold of the letters, for which Nikolai Petrovitch had to rummage in +twenty drawers and boxes. Having gained possession of these +half-crumbling papers, Arkady felt, as it were, soothed, just as though +he had caught a glimpse of the goal towards which he ought now to go. +'I mean that for both of you,' he was constantly whispering—she had +added that herself! 'I'll go, I'll go, hang it all!' But he recalled +the last visit, the cold reception, and his former embarrassment, and +timidity got the better of him. The 'go-ahead' feeling of youth, the +secret desire to try his luck, to prove his powers in solitude, without +the protection of any one whatever, gained the day at last. Before ten +days had passed after his return to Maryino, on the pretext of studying +the working of the Sunday schools, he galloped off to the town again, +and from there to Nikolskoe. Urging the driver on without intermission, +he flew along, like a young officer riding to battle; and he felt both +frightened and light-hearted, and was breathless with impatience. 'The +great thing is—one mustn't think,' he kept repeating to himself. His +driver happened to be a lad of spirit; he halted before every public +house, saying, 'A drink or not a drink?' but, to make up for it, when +he had drunk he did not spare his horses. At last the lofty roof of the +familiar house came in sight.... 'What am I to do?' flashed through +Arkady's head. 'Well, there's no turning back now!' The three horses +galloped in unison; the driver whooped and whistled at them. And now +the bridge was groaning under the hoofs and wheels, and now the avenue +of lopped pines seemed running to meet them.... There was a glimpse of +a woman's pink dress against the dark green, a young face from under +the light fringe of a parasol.... He recognised Katya, and she +recognised him. Arkady told the driver to stop the galloping horses, +leaped out of the carriage, and went up to her. 'It's you!' she cried, +gradually flushing all over; 'let us go to my sister, she's here in the +garden; she will be pleased to see you.'</p> + +<p>Katya led Arkady into the garden. His meeting with her struck him as a +particularly happy omen; he was delighted to see her, as though she +were of his own kindred. Everything had happened so splendidly; no +steward, no formal announcement. At a turn in the path he caught sight +of Anna Sergyevna. She was standing with her back to him. Hearing +footsteps, she turned slowly round.</p> + +<p>Arkady felt confused again, but the first words she uttered soothed him +at once. 'Welcome back, runaway!' she said in her even, caressing +voice, and came to meet him, smiling and frowning to keep the sun and +wind out of her eyes. 'Where did you pick him up, Katya?'</p> + +<p>'I have brought you something, Anna Sergyevna,' he began, 'which you +certainly don't expect.'</p> + +<p>'You have brought yourself; that's better than anything.'</p> +<br><a name="chap23"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIII</h4> +<br> + +<p>Having seen Arkady off with ironical compassion, and given him to +understand that he was not in the least deceived as to the real object +of his journey, Bazarov shut himself up in complete solitude; he was +overtaken by a fever for work. He did not dispute now with Pavel +Petrovitch, especially as the latter assumed an excessively +aristocratic demeanour in his presence, and expressed his opinions more +in inarticulate sounds than in words. Only on one occasion Pavel +Petrovitch fell into a controversy with the <i>nihilist</i> on the subject +of the question then much discussed of the rights of the nobles of the +Baltic province; but suddenly he stopped of his own accord, remarking +with chilly politeness, 'However, we cannot understand one another; I, +at least, have not the honour of understanding you.'</p> + +<p>'I should think not!' cried Bazarov. 'A man's capable of understanding +anything—how the æther vibrates, and what's going on in the sun—but +how any other man can blow his nose differently from him, that he's +incapable of understanding.'</p> + +<p>'What, is that an epigram?' observed Pavel Petrovitch inquiringly, and +he walked away.</p> + +<p>However, he sometimes asked permission to be present at Bazarov's +experiments, and once even placed his perfumed face, washed with the +very best soap, near the microscope to see how a transparent infusoria +swallowed a green speck, and busily munched it with two very rapid sort +of clappers which were in its throat. Nikolai Petrovitch visited +Bazarov much oftener than his brother; he would have come every day, as +he expressed it, to 'study,' if his worries on the farm had not taken +off his attention. He did not hinder the young man in his scientific +researches; he used to sit down somewhere in a corner of the room and +look on attentively, occasionally permitting himself a discreet +question. During dinner and supper-time he used to try to turn the +conversation upon physics, geology, or chemistry, seeing that all other +topics, even agriculture, to say nothing of politics, might lead, if +not to collisions, at least to mutual unpleasantness. Nikolai +Petrovitch surmised that his brother's dislike for Bazarov was no less. +An unimportant incident, among many others, confirmed his surmises. The +cholera began to make its appearance in some places in the +neighbourhood, and even 'carried off' two persons from Maryino itself. +In the night Pavel Petrovitch happened to have rather severe symptoms. +He was in pain till the morning, but did not have recourse to Bazarov's +skill. And when he met him the following day, in reply to his question, +'Why he had not sent for him?' answered, still quite pale, but +scrupulously brushed and shaved, 'Why, I seem to recollect you said +yourself you didn't believe in medicine.' So the days went by. Bazarov +went on obstinately and grimly working ... and meanwhile there was in +Nikolai Petrovitch's house one creature to whom, if he did not open his +heart, he at least was glad to talk.... That creature was Fenitchka.</p> + +<p>He used to meet her for the most part early in the morning, in the +garden, or the farmyard; he never used to go to her room to see her, +and she had only once been to his door to inquire—ought she to let +Mitya have his bath or not? It was not only that she confided in him, +that she was not afraid of him—she was positively freer and more at +her ease in her behaviour with him than with Nikolai Petrovitch +himself. It is hard to say how it came about; perhaps it was because +she unconsciously felt the absence in Bazarov of all gentility, of all +that superiority which at once attracts and overawes. In her eyes he +was both an excellent doctor and a simple man. She looked after her +baby without constraint in his presence; and once when she was suddenly +attacked with giddiness and headache—she took a spoonful of medicine +from his hand. Before Nikolai Petrovitch she kept, as it were, at a +distance from Bazarov; she acted in this way not from hypocrisy, but +from a kind of feeling of propriety. Pavel Petrovitch she was more +afraid of than ever; for some time he had begun to watch her, and would +suddenly make his appearance, as though he sprang out of the earth +behind her back, in his English suit, with his immovable vigilant face, +and his hands in his pockets. 'It's like a bucket of cold water on +one,' Fenitchka complained to Dunyasha, and the latter sighed in +response, and thought of another 'heartless' man. Bazarov, without the +least suspicion of the fact, had become the <i>cruel tyrant</i> of her +heart.</p> + +<p>Fenitchka liked Bazarov; but he liked her too. His face was positively +transformed when he talked to her; it took a bright, almost kind +expression, and his habitual nonchalance was replaced by a sort of +jesting attentiveness. Fenitchka was growing prettier every day. There +is a time in the life of young women when they suddenly begin to expand +and blossom like summer roses; this time had come for Fenitchka. +Dressed in a delicate white dress, she seemed herself slighter and +whiter; she was not tanned by the sun; but the heat, from which she +could not shield herself, spread a slight flush over her cheeks and +ears, and, shedding a soft indolence over her whole body, was reflected +in a dreamy languor in her pretty eyes. She was almost unable to work; +her hands seem to fall naturally into her lap. She scarcely walked at +all, and was constantly sighing and complaining with comic +helplessness.</p> + +<p>'You should go oftener to bathe,' Nikolai Petrovitch told her. He had +made a large bath covered in with an awning in one of his ponds which +had not yet quite disappeared.</p> + +<p>'Oh, Nikolai Petrovitch! But by the time one gets to the pond, one's +utterly dead, and, coming back, one's dead again. You see, there's no +shade in the garden.'</p> + +<p>'That's true, there's no shade,' replied Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing +his forehead.</p> + +<p>One day at seven o'clock in the morning Bazarov, returning from a walk, +came upon Fenitchka in the lilac arbour, which was long past flowering, +but was still thick and green. She was sitting on the garden seat, and +had as usual thrown a white kerchief over her head; near her lay a +whole heap of red and white roses still wet with dew. He said good +morning to her.</p> + +<p>'Ah! Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and lifted the edge of her +kerchief a little to look at him, in doing which her arm was left bare +to the elbow.</p> + +<p>'What are you doing here?' said Bazarov, sitting down beside her. 'Are +you making a nosegay?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, for the table at lunch. Nikolai Petrovitch likes it.'</p> + +<p>'But it's a long while yet to lunch time. What a heap of flowers!'</p> + +<p>'I gathered them now, for it will be hot then, and one can't go out. +One can only just breathe now. I feel quite weak with the heat. I'm +really afraid whether I'm not going to be ill.'</p> + +<p>'What an idea! Let me feel your pulse.' Bazarov took her hand, felt for +the evenly-beating pulse, but did not even begin to count its throbs. +'You'll live a hundred years!' he said, dropping her hand.</p> + +<p>'Ah, God forbid!' she cried.</p> + +<p>'Why? Don't you want a long life?'</p> + +<p>'Well, but a hundred years! There was an old woman near us eighty-five +years old—and what a martyr she was! Dirty and deaf and bent and +coughing all the time; nothing but a burden to herself. That's a +dreadful life!'</p> + +<p>'So it's better to be young?'</p> + +<p>'Well, isn't it?'</p> + +<p>'But why is it better? Tell me!'</p> + +<p>'How can you ask why? Why, here I now, while I'm young, I can do +everything—go and come and carry, and needn't ask any one for +anything.... What can be better?'</p> + +<p>'And to me it's all the same whether I'm young or old.'</p> + +<p>'How do you mean—it's all the same? It's not possible what you say.'</p> + +<p>'Well, judge for yourself, Fedosya Nikolaevna, what good is my youth to +me. I live alone, a poor lonely creature ...'</p> + +<p>'That always depends on you.'</p> + +<p>'It doesn't at all depend on me! At least, some one ought to take pity +on me.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka gave a sidelong look at Bazarov, but said nothing. 'What's +this book you have?' she asked after a short pause.</p> + +<p>'That? That's a scientific book, very difficult.'</p> + +<p>'And are you still studying? And don't you find it dull? You know +everything already I should say.'</p> + +<p>'It seems not everything. You try to read a little.'</p> + +<p>'But I don't understand anything here. Is it Russian?' asked Fenitchka, +taking the heavily bound book in both hands. 'How thick it is!'</p> + +<p>'Yes, it's Russian.'</p> + +<p>'All the same, I shan't understand anything.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I didn't give it you for you to understand it. I wanted to look +at you while you were reading. When you read, the end of your little +nose moves so nicely.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka, who had set to work to spell out in a low voice the article +on 'Creosote' she had chanced upon, laughed and threw down the book ... +it slipped from the seat on to the ground.</p> + +<p>'Nonsense!'</p> + +<p>'I like it too when you laugh,' observed Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'I like it when you talk. It's just like a little brook babbling.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka turned her head away. 'What a person you are to talk!' she +commented, picking the flowers over with her finger. 'And how can you +care to listen to me? You have talked with such clever ladies.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, Fedosya Nikolaevna! believe me; all the clever ladies in the world +are not worth your little elbow.'</p> + +<p>'Come, there's another invention!' murmured Fenitchka, clasping her +hands.</p> + +<p>Bazarov picked the book up from the ground.</p> + +<p>'That's a medical book; why do you throw it away?'</p> + +<p>'Medical?' repeated Fenitchka, and she turned to him again. 'Do you +know, ever since you gave me those drops—do you remember?—Mitya has +slept so well! I really can't think how to thank you; you are so good, +really.'</p> + +<p>'But you have to pay doctors,' observed Bazarov with a smile. 'Doctors, +you know yourself, are grasping people.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka raised her eyes, which seemed still darker from the whitish +reflection cast on the upper part of her face, and looked at Bazarov. +She did not know whether he was joking or not.</p> + +<p>'If you please, we shall be delighted.... I must ask Nikolai Petrovitch +...'</p> + +<p>'Why, do you think I want money?' Bazarov interposed. 'No; I don't want +money from you.'</p> + +<p>'What then?' asked Fenitchka.</p> + +<p>'What?' repeated Bazarov. 'Guess!'</p> + +<p>'A likely person I am to guess!'</p> + +<p>'Well, I will tell you; I want ... one of those roses.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka laughed again, and even clapped her hands, so amusing +Bazarov's request seemed to her. She laughed, and at the same time felt +flattered. Bazarov was looking intently at her.</p> + +<p>'By all means,' she said at last; and, bending down to the seat, she +began picking over the roses. 'Which will you have—a red one or a +white one?'</p> + +<p>'Red, and not too large.'</p> + +<p>She sat up again. 'Here, take it,' she said, but at once drew back her +outstretched hand, and, biting her lips, looked towards the entrance of +the arbour, then listened.</p> + +<p>'What is it?' asked Bazarov. 'Nikolai Petrovitch?'</p> + +<p>'No ... Mr. Kirsanov has gone to the fields ... besides, I'm not afraid +of him ... but Pavel Petrovitch ... I fancied ...'</p> + +<p>'What?'</p> + +<p>'I fancied he was coming here. No ... it was no one. Take it.' +Fenitchka gave Bazarov the rose.</p> + +<p>'On what grounds are you afraid of Pavel Petrovitch?'</p> + +<p>'He always scares me. And I know you don't like him. Do you remember, +you always used to quarrel with him? I don't know what your quarrel was +about, but I can see you turn him about like this and like that.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka showed with her hands how in her opinion Bazarov turned Pavel +Petrovitch about.</p> + +<p>Bazarov smiled. 'But if he gave me a beating,' he asked, 'would you +stand up for me?'</p> + +<p>'How could I stand up for you? but no, no one will get the better of +you.'</p> + +<p>'Do you think so? But I know a hand which could overcome me if it +liked.'</p> + +<p>'What hand?'</p> + +<p>'Why, don't you know, really? Smell, how delicious this rose smells you +gave me.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka stretched her little neck forward, and put her face close to +the flower.... The kerchief slipped from her head on to her shoulders; +her soft mass of dark, shining, slightly ruffled hair was visible.</p> + +<p>'Wait a minute; I want to smell it with you,' said Bazarov. He bent +down and kissed her vigorously on her parted lips.</p> + +<p>She started, pushed him back with both her hands on his breast, but +pushed feebly, and he was able to renew and prolong his kiss.</p> + +<p>A dry cough was heard behind the lilac bushes. Fenitchka instantly +moved away to the other end of the seat. Pavel Petrovitch showed +himself, made a slight bow, and saying with a sort of malicious +mournfulness, 'You are here,' he retreated. Fenitchka at once gathered +up all her roses and went out of the arbour. 'It was wrong of you, +Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' she whispered as she went. There was a note of +genuine reproach in her whisper.</p> + +<p>Bazarov remembered another recent scene, and he felt both shame and +contemptuous annoyance. But he shook his head directly, ironically +congratulated himself 'on his final assumption of the part of the gay +Lothario,' and went off to his own room.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch went out of the garden, and made his way with +deliberate steps to the copse. He stayed there rather a long while; and +when he returned to lunch, Nikolai Petrovitch inquired anxiously +whether he were quite well—his face looked so gloomy.</p> + +<p>'You know, I sometimes suffer with my liver,' Pavel Petrovitch answered +tranquilly.</p> +<br><a name="chap24"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIV</h4> +<br> + +<p>Two hours later he knocked at Bazarov's door.</p> + +<p>'I must apologise for hindering you in your scientific pursuits,' he +began, seating himself on a chair in the window, and leaning with both +hands on a handsome walking-stick with an ivory knob (he usually walked +without a stick), 'but I am constrained to beg you to spare me five +minutes of your time ... no more.'</p> + +<p>'All my time is at your disposal,' answered Bazarov, over whose face +there passed a quick change of expression directly Pavel Petrovitch +crossed the threshold.</p> + +<p>'Five minutes will be enough for me. I have come to put a single +question to you.'</p> + +<p>'A question? What is it about?'</p> + +<p>'I will tell you, if you will kindly hear me out. At the commencement +of your stay in my brother's house, before I had renounced the pleasure +of conversing with you, it was my fortune to hear your opinions on many +subjects; but so far as my memory serves, neither between us, nor in my +presence, was the subject of single combats and duelling in general +broached. Allow me to hear what are your views on that subject?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov, who had risen to meet Pavel Petrovitch, sat down on the edge +of the table and folded his arms.</p> + +<p>'My view is,' he said, 'that from the theoretical standpoint, duelling +is absurd; from the practical standpoint, now—it's quite a different +matter.'</p> + +<p>'That is, you mean to say, if I understand you right, that whatever +your theoretical views on duelling, you would not in practice allow +yourself to be insulted without demanding satisfaction?'</p> + +<p>'You have guessed my meaning absolutely.'</p> + +<p>'Very good. I am very glad to hear you say so. Your words relieve me +from a state of incertitude.'</p> + +<p>'Of uncertainty, you mean to say.'</p> + +<p>'That is all the same! I express myself so as to be understood; I ... +am not a seminary rat. Your words save me from a rather deplorable +necessity. I have made up my mind to fight you.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov opened his eyes wide. 'Me?'</p> + +<p>'Undoubtedly.'</p> + +<p>'But what for, pray?'</p> + +<p>'I could explain the reason to you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'but I +prefer to be silent about it. To my idea your presence here is +superfluous; I cannot endure you; I despise you; and if that is not +enough for you ...'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch's eyes glittered ... Bazarov's too were flashing.</p> + +<p>'Very good,' he assented. 'No need of further explanations. You've a +whim to try your chivalrous spirit upon me. I might refuse you this +pleasure, but—so be it!'</p> + +<p>'I am sensible of my obligation to you,' replied Pavel Petrovitch; 'and +may reckon then on your accepting my challenge without compelling me to +resort to violent measures.'</p> + +<p>'That means, speaking without metaphor, to that stick?' Bazarov +remarked coolly. 'That is precisely correct. It's quite unnecessary for +you to insult me. Indeed, it would not be a perfectly safe proceeding. +You can remain a gentleman.... I accept your challenge, too, like a +gentleman.'</p> + +<p>'That is excellent,' observed Pavel Petrovitch, putting his stick in +the corner. 'We will say a few words directly about the conditions of +our duel; but I should like first to know whether you think it +necessary to resort to the formality of a trifling dispute, which might +serve as a pretext for my challenge?'</p> + +<p>'No; it's better without formalities.'</p> + +<p>'I think so myself. I presume it is also out of place to go into the +real grounds of our difference. We cannot endure one another. What more +is necessary?'</p> + +<p>'What more, indeed?' repeated Bazarov ironically.</p> + +<p>'As regards the conditions of the meeting itself, seeing that we shall +have no seconds—for where could we get them?'</p> + +<p>'Exactly so; where could we get them?'</p> + +<p>'Then I have the honour to lay the following proposition before you: +The combat to take place early to-morrow, at six, let us say, behind +the copse, with pistols, at a distance of ten paces....'</p> + +<p>'At ten paces? that will do; we hate one another at that distance.'</p> + +<p>'We might have it eight,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'We might.'</p> + +<p>'To fire twice; and, to be ready for any result, let each put a letter +in his pocket, in which he accuses himself of his end.'</p> + +<p>'Now, that I don't approve of at all,' observed Bazarov. 'There's a +slight flavour of the French novel about it, something not very +plausible.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps. You will agree, however, that it would be unpleasant to incur +a suspicion of murder?'</p> + +<p>'I agree as to that. But there is a means of avoiding that painful +reproach. We shall have no seconds, but we can have a witness.'</p> + +<p>'And whom, allow me to inquire?'</p> + +<p>'Why, Piotr.'</p> + +<p>'What Piotr?'</p> + +<p>'Your brother's valet. He's a man who has attained to the acme of +contemporary culture, and he will perform his part with all the +<i>comilfo (comme il faut)</i> necessary in such cases.'</p> + +<p>'I think you are joking, sir.'</p> + +<p>'Not at all. If you think over my suggestion, you will be convinced +that it's full of common-sense and simplicity. You can't hide a candle +under a bushel; but I'll undertake to prepare Piotr in a fitting +manner, and bring him on to the field of battle.'</p> + +<p>'You persist in jesting still,' Pavel Petrovitch declared, getting up +from his chair. 'But after the courteous readiness you have shown me, I +have no right to pretend to lay down.... And so, everything is +arranged.... By the way, perhaps you have no pistols?'</p> + +<p>'How should I have pistols, Pavel Petrovitch? I'm not in the army.'</p> + +<p>'In that case, I offer you mine. You may rest assured that it's five +years now since I shot with them.'</p> + +<p>'That's a very consoling piece of news.'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch took up his stick.... 'And now, my dear sir, it only +remains for me to thank you and to leave you to your studies. I have +the honour to take leave of you.'</p> + +<p>'Till we have the pleasure of meeting again, my dear sir,' said +Bazarov, conducting his visitor to the door.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch went out, while Bazarov remained standing a minute +before the door, and suddenly exclaimed, 'Pish, well, I'm dashed! how +fine, and how foolish! A pretty farce we've been through! Like trained +dogs dancing on their hind-paws. But to decline was out of the +question; why, I do believe he'd have struck me, and then ...' (Bazarov +turned white at the very thought; all his pride was up in arms at +once)—'then it might have come to my strangling him like a cat.' He +went back to his microscope, but his heart was beating, and the +composure necessary for taking observations had disappeared. 'He caught +sight of us to-day,' he thought; 'but would he really act like this on +his brother's account? And what a mighty matter is it—a kiss? There +must be something else in it. Bah! isn't he perhaps in love with her +himself? To be sure, he's in love; it's as clear as day. What a +complication! It's a nuisance!' he decided at last; 'it's a bad job, +look at it which way you will. In the first place, to risk a bullet +through one's brains, and in any case to go away; and then Arkady ... +and that dear innocent pussy, Nikolai Petrovitch. It's a bad job, an +awfully bad job.'</p> + +<p>The day passed in a kind of peculiar stillness and languor. Fenitchka +gave no sign of her existence; she sat in her little room like a mouse +in its hole. Nikolai Petrovitch had a careworn air. He had just heard +that blight had begun to appear in his wheat, upon which he had in +particular rested his hopes. Pavel Petrovitch overwhelmed every one, +even Prokofitch, with his icy courtesy. Bazarov began a letter to his +father, but tore it up, and threw it under the table.</p> + +<p>'If I die,' he thought, 'they will find it out; but I'm not going to +die. No, I shall struggle along in this world a good while yet.' He +gave Piotr orders to come to him on important business the next morning +directly it was light. Piotr imagined that he wanted to take him to +Petersburg with him. Bazarov went late to bed, and all night long he +was harassed by disordered dreams.... Madame Odintsov kept appearing in +them, now she was his mother, and she was followed by a kitten with +black whiskers, and this kitten seemed to be Fenitchka; then Pavel +Petrovitch took the shape of a great wood, with which he had yet to +fight. Piotr waked him up at four o'clock; he dressed at once, and went +out with him.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely, fresh morning; tiny flecked clouds hovered overhead in +little curls of foam on the pale clear blue; a fine dew lay in drops on +the leaves and grass, and sparkled like silver on the spiders' webs; +the damp, dark earth seemed still to keep traces of the rosy dawn; from +the whole sky the songs of larks came pouring in showers. Bazarov +walked as far as the copse, sat down in the shade at its edge, and only +then disclosed to Piotr the nature of the service he expected of him. +The refined valet was mortally alarmed; but Bazarov soothed him by the +assurance that he would have nothing to do but stand at a distance and +look on, and that he would not incur any sort of responsibility. 'And +meantime,' he added, 'only think what an important part you have to +play!' Piotr threw up his hands, looked down, and leaned against a +birch-tree, looking green with terror.</p> + +<p>The road from Maryino skirted the copse; a light dust lay on it, +untouched by wheel or foot since the previous day. Bazarov +unconsciously stared along this road, picked and gnawed a blade of +grass, while he kept repeating to himself, 'What a piece of foolery!' +The chill of the early morning made him shiver twice.... Piotr looked +at him dejectedly, but Bazarov only smiled; he was not afraid.</p> + +<p>The tramp of horses' hoofs was heard along the road.... A peasant came +into sight from behind the trees. He was driving before him two horses +hobbled together, and as he passed Bazarov he looked at him rather +strangely, without touching his cap, which it was easy to see disturbed +Piotr, as an unlucky omen. 'There's some one else up early too,' +thought Bazarov; 'but he at least has got up for work, while we ...'</p> + +<p>'Fancy the gentleman's coming,' Piotr faltered suddenly.</p> + +<p>Bazarov raised his head and saw Pavel Petrovitch. Dressed in a light +check jacket and snow-white trousers, he was walking rapidly along the +road; under his arm he carried a box wrapped up in green cloth.</p> + +<p>'I beg your pardon, I believe I have kept you waiting,' he observed, +bowing first to Bazarov, then to Piotr, whom he treated respectfully at +that instant, as representing something in the nature of a second. 'I +was unwilling to wake my man.'</p> + +<p>'It doesn't matter,' answered Bazarov; 'we've only just arrived +ourselves.'</p> + +<p>'Ah! so much the better!' Pavel Petrovitch took a look round. 'There's +no one in sight; no one hinders us. We can proceed?'</p> + +<p>'Let us proceed.'</p> + +<p>'You do not, I presume, desire any fresh explanations?'</p> + +<p>'No, I don't.'</p> + +<p>'Would you like to load?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch, taking the pistols +out of the box.</p> + +<p>'No; you load, and I will measure out the paces. My legs are longer,' +added Bazarov with a smile. 'One, two, three.'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' Piotr faltered with an effort (he shaking as +though he were in a fever), 'say what you like, I am going farther +off.'</p> + +<p>'Four ... five.... Good. Move away, my good fellow, move away; you may +get behind a tree even, and stop up your ears, only don't shut your +eyes; and if any one falls, run and pick him up. Six ... seven ... +eight....' Bazarov stopped. 'Is that enough?' he said, turning to Pavel +Petrovitch; 'or shall I add two paces more?'</p> + +<p>'As you like,' replied the latter, pressing down the second bullet.</p> + +<p>'Well, we'll make it two paces more.' Bazarov drew a line on the ground +with the toe of his boot. 'There's the barrier then. By the way, how +many paces may each of us go back from the barrier? That's an important +question too. That point was not discussed yesterday.'</p> + +<p>'I imagine, ten,' replied Pavel Petrovitch, handing Bazarov both +pistols. 'Will you be so good as to choose?'</p> + +<p>'I will be so good. But, Pavel Petrovitch, you must admit our combat is +singular to the point of absurdity. Only look at the countenance of our +second.'</p> + +<p>'You are disposed to laugh at everything,' answered Pavel Petrovitch. +'I acknowledge the strangeness of our duel, but I think it my duty to +warn you that I intend to fight seriously. <i>A bon entendeur, salut!'</i></p> + +<p>'Oh! I don't doubt that we've made up our minds to make away with each +other; but why not laugh too and unite <i>utile dulci?</i> You talk to me in +French, while I talk to you in Latin.'</p> + +<p>'I am going to fight in earnest,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, and he +walked off to his place. Bazarov on his side counted off ten paces from +the barrier, and stood still.</p> + +<p>'Are you ready?' asked Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'Perfectly.'</p> + +<p>'We can approach one another.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov moved slowly forward, and Pavel Petrovitch, his left hand +thrust in his pocket, walked towards him, gradually raising the muzzle +of his pistol.... 'He's aiming straight at my nose,' thought Bazarov, +'and doesn't he blink down it carefully, the ruffian! Not an agreeable +sensation though. I'm going to look at his watch chain.'</p> + +<p>Something whizzed sharply by his very ear, and at the same instant +there was the sound of a shot. 'I heard it, so it must be all right,' +had time to flash through Bazarov's brain. He took one more step, and +without taking aim, pressed the spring.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch gave a slight start, and clutched at his thigh. A +stream of blood began to trickle down his white trousers.</p> + +<p>Bazarov flung aside the pistol, and went up to his antagonist. 'Are you +wounded?' he said.</p> + +<p>'You had the right to call me up to the barrier,' said Pavel +Petrovitch, 'but that's of no consequence. According to our agreement, +each of us has the right to one more shot.'</p> + +<p>'All right, but, excuse me, that'll do another time,' answered Bazarov, +catching hold of Pavel Petrovitch, who was beginning to turn pale. +'Now, I'm not a duellist, but a doctor, and I must have a look at your +wound before anything else. Piotr! come here, Piotr! where have you got +to?'</p> + +<p>'That's all nonsense.... I need no one's aid,' Pavel Petrovitch +declared jerkily, 'and ... we must ... again ...' He tried to pull at +his moustaches, but his hand failed him, his eyes grew dim, and he lost +consciousness.</p> + +<p>'Here's a pretty pass! A fainting fit! What next!' Bazarov cried +unconsciously, as he laid Pavel Petrovitch on the grass. 'Let's have a +look what's wrong.' He pulled out a handkerchief, wiped away the blood, +and began feeling round the wound.... 'The bone's not touched,' he +muttered through his teeth; 'the ball didn't go deep; one muscle, +<i>vastus externus,</i> grazed. He'll be dancing about in three weeks!... +And to faint! Oh, these nervous people, how I hate them! My word, what +a delicate skin!'</p> + +<p>'Is he killed?' the quaking voice of Piotr came rustling behind his +back.</p> + +<p>Bazarov looked round. 'Go for some water as quick as you can, my good +fellow, and he'll outlive us yet.'</p> + +<p>But the modern servant seemed not to understand his words, and he did +not stir. Pavel Petrovitch slowly opened his eyes. 'He will die!' +whispered Piotr, and he began crossing himself.</p> + +<p>'You are right ... What an imbecile countenance!' remarked the wounded +gentleman with a forced smile.</p> + +<p>'Well, go for the water, damn you!' shouted Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'No need.... It was a momentary <i>vertigo</i>.... Help me to sit up ... +there, that's right.... I only need something to bind up this scratch, +and I can reach home on foot, or you can send a droshky for me. The +duel, if you are willing, shall not be renewed. You have behaved +honourably ... to-day, to-day—observe.'</p> + +<p>'There's no need to recall the past,' rejoined Bazarov; 'and as regards +the future, it's not worth while for you to trouble your head about +that either, for I intend being off without delay. Let me bind up your +leg now; your wound's not serious, but it's always best to stop +bleeding. But first I must bring this corpse to his senses.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov shook Piotr by the collar, and sent him for a droshky.</p> + +<p>'Mind you don't frighten my brother,' Pavel Petrovitch said to him; +'don't dream of informing him.'</p> + +<p>Piotr flew off; and while he was running for a droshky, the two +antagonists sat on the ground and said nothing. Pavel Petrovitch tried +not to look at Bazarov; he did not want to be reconciled to him in any +case; he was ashamed of his own haughtiness, of his failure; he was +ashamed of the whole position he had brought about, even while he felt +it could not have ended in a more favourable manner. 'At any rate, +there will be no scandal,' he consoled himself by reflecting, 'and for +that I am thankful.' The silence was prolonged, a silence distressing +and awkward. Both of them were ill at ease. Each was conscious that the +other understood him. That is pleasant to friends, and always very +unpleasant to those who are not friends, especially when it is +impossible either to have things out or to separate.</p> + +<p>'Haven't I bound up your leg too tight?' inquired Bazarov at last.</p> + +<p>'No, not at all; it's capital,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; and after a +brief pause, he added, 'There's no deceiving my brother; we shall have +to tell him we quarrelled over politics.'</p> + +<p>'Very good,' assented Bazarov. 'You can say I insulted all +anglomaniacs.'</p> + +<p>'That will do capitally. What do you imagine that man thinks of us +now?' continued Pavel Petrovitch, pointing to the same peasant, who had +driven the hobbled horses past Bazarov a few minutes before the duel, +and going back again along the road, took off his cap at the sight of +the 'gentlefolk.'</p> + +<p>'Who can tell!' answered Bazarov; 'it's quite likely he thinks nothing. +The Russian peasant is that mysterious unknown about whom Mrs. +Radcliffe used to talk so much. Who is to understand him! He doesn't +understand himself!'</p> + +<p>'Ah! so that's your idea!' Pavel Petrovitch began; and suddenly he +cried, 'Look what your fool of a Piotr has done! Here's my brother +galloping up to us!'</p> + +<p>Bazarov turned round and saw the pale face of Nikolai Petrovitch, who +was sitting in the droshky. He jumped out of it before it had stopped, +and rushed up to his brother.</p> + +<p>'What does this mean?' he said in an agitated voice. 'Yevgeny +Vassilyitch, pray, what is this?'</p> + +<p>'Nothing,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'they have alarmed you for +nothing. I had a little dispute with Mr. Bazarov, and I have had to pay +for it a little.'</p> + +<p>'But what was it all about, mercy on us!'</p> + +<p>'How can I tell you? Mr. Bazarov alluded disrespectfully to Sir Robert +Peel. I must hasten to add that I am the only person to blame in all +this, while Mr. Bazarov has behaved most honourably. I called him out.'</p> + +<p>'But you're covered with blood, good Heavens!'</p> + +<p>'Well, did you suppose I had water in my veins? But this blood-letting +is positively beneficial to me. Isn't that so, doctor? Help me to get +into the droshky, and don't give way to melancholy. I shall be quite +well to-morrow. That's it; capital. Drive on, coachman.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch walked after the droshky; Bazarov was remaining +where he was....</p> + +<p>'I must ask you to look after my brother,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to +him, 'till we get another doctor from the town.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov nodded his head without speaking. In an hour's time Pavel +Petrovitch was already lying in bed with a skilfully bandaged leg. The +whole house was alarmed; Fenitchka fainted. Nikolai Petrovitch kept +stealthily wringing his hands, while Pavel Petrovitch laughed and +joked, especially with Bazarov; he had put on a fine cambric +night-shirt, an elegant morning wrapper, and a fez, did not allow the +blinds to be drawn down, and humorously complained of the necessity of +being kept from food.</p> + +<p>Towards night, however, he began to be feverish; his head ached. The +doctor arrived from the town. (Nikolai Petrovitch would not listen to +his brother, and indeed Bazarov himself did not wish him to; he sat the +whole day in his room, looking yellow and vindictive, and only went in +to the invalid for as brief a time as possible; twice he happened to +meet Fenitchka, but she shrank away from him with horror.) The new +doctor advised a cooling diet; he confirmed, however, Bazarov's +assertion that there was no danger. Nikolai Petrovitch told him his +brother had wounded himself by accident, to which the doctor responded, +'Hm!' but having twenty-five silver roubles slipped into his hand on +the spot, he observed, 'You don't say so! Well, it's a thing that often +happens, to be sure.'</p> + +<p>No one in the house went to bed or undressed. Nikolai Petrovitch kept +going in to his brother on tiptoe, retreating on tiptoe again; the +latter dozed, moaned a little, told him in French, <i>Couchez-vous,</i> and +asked for drink. Nikolai Petrovitch sent Fenitchka twice to take him a +glass of lemonade; Pavel Petrovitch gazed at her intently, and drank +off the glass to the last drop. Towards morning the fever had increased +a little; there was slight delirium. At first Pavel Petrovitch uttered +incoherent words; then suddenly he opened his eyes, and seeing his +brother near his bed bending anxiously over him, he said, 'Don't you +think, Nikolai, Fenitchka has something in common with Nellie?'</p> + +<p>'What Nellie, Pavel dear?'</p> + +<p>'How can you ask? Princess R——. Especially in the upper part of the +face. <i>C'est de la même famille.'</i></p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch made no answer, while inwardly he marvelled at the +persistence of old passions in man. 'It's like this when it comes to +the surface,' he thought.</p> + +<p>'Ah, how I love that light-headed creature!' moaned Pavel Petrovitch, +clasping his hands mournfully behind his head. 'I can't bear any +insolent upstart to dare to touch ...' he whispered a few minutes later.</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch only sighed; he did not even suspect to whom these +words referred.</p> + +<p>Bazarov presented himself before him at eight o'clock the next day. He +had already had time to pack, and to set free all his frogs, insects, +and birds.</p> + +<p>'You have come to say good-bye to me?' said Nikolai Petrovitch, getting +up to meet him.</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'I understand you, and approve of you fully. My poor brother, of +course, is to blame; and he is punished for it. He told me himself that +he made it impossible for you to act otherwise. I believe that you +could not avoid this duel, which ... which to some extent is explained +by the almost constant antagonism of your respective views.' (Nikolai +Petrovitch began to get a little mixed up in his words.) 'My brother is +a man of the old school, hot-tempered and obstinate.... Thank God that +it has ended as it has. I have taken every precaution to avoid +publicity.'</p> + +<p>'I'm leaving you my address, in case there's any fuss,' Bazarov +remarked casually.</p> + +<p>'I hope there will be no fuss, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.... I am very sorry +your stay in my house should have such a ... such an end. It is the +more distressing to me through Arkady's ...'</p> + +<p>'I shall be seeing him, I expect,' replied Bazarov, in whom +'explanations' and 'protestations' of every sort always aroused a +feeling of impatience; 'in case I don't, I beg you to say good-bye to +him for me, and accept the expression of my regret.'</p> + +<p>'And I beg ...' answered Nikolai Petrovitch. But Bazarov went off +without waiting for the end of his sentence.</p> + +<p>When he heard of Bazarov's going, Pavel Petrovitch expressed a desire +to see him, and shook his hand. But even then he remained as cold as +ice; he realised that Pavel Petrovitch wanted to play the magnanimous. +He did not succeed in saying good-bye to Fenitchka; he only exchanged +glances with her at the window. Her face struck him as looking +dejected. 'She'll come to grief, perhaps,' he said to himself.... 'But +who knows? she'll pull through somehow, I dare say!' Piotr, however, +was so overcome that he wept on his shoulder, till Bazarov damped him +by asking if he'd a constant supply laid on in his eyes; while Dunyasha +was obliged to run away into the wood to hide her emotion. The +originator of all this woe got into a light cart, smoked a cigar, and +when at the third mile, at the bend in the road, the Kirsanovs' farm, +with its new house, could be seen in a long line, he merely spat, and +muttering, 'Cursed snobs!' wrapped himself closer in his cloak.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch was soon better; but he had to keep his bed about a +week. He bore his captivity, as he called it, pretty patiently, though +he took great pains over his toilette, and had everything scented with +eau-de-cologne. Nikolai Petrovitch used to read him the journals; +Fenitchka waited on him as before, brought him lemonade, soup, boiled +eggs, and tea; but she was overcome with secret dread whenever she went +into his room. Pavel Petrovitch's unexpected action had alarmed every +one in the house, and her more than any one; Prokofitch was the only +person not agitated by it; he discoursed upon how gentlemen in his day +used to fight, but only with real gentlemen; low curs like that they +used to order a horsewhipping in the stable for their insolence.</p> + +<p>Fenitchka's conscience scarcely reproached her; but she was tormented +at times by the thought of the real cause of the quarrel; and Pavel +Petrovitch too looked at her so strangely ... that even when her back +was turned, she felt his eyes upon her. She grew thinner from constant +inward agitation, and, as is always the way, became still more +charming.</p> + +<p>One day—the incident took place in the morning—Pavel Petrovitch felt +better and moved from his bed to the sofa, while Nikolai Petrovitch, +having satisfied himself he was better, went off to the +threshing-floor. Fenitchka brought him a cup of tea, and setting it +down on a little table, was about to withdraw. Pavel Petrovitch +detained her.</p> + +<p>'Where are you going in such a hurry, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' he began; +'are you busy?'</p> + +<p>'... I have to pour out tea.'</p> + +<p>'Dunyasha will do that without you; sit a little while with a poor +invalid. By the way, I must have a little talk with you.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka sat down on the edge of an easy-chair, without speaking.</p> + +<p>'Listen,' said Pavel Petrovitch, tugging at his moustaches; 'I have +long wanted to ask you something; you seem somehow afraid of me?'</p> + +<p>'I?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, you. You never look at me, as though your conscience were not at +rest.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka crimsoned, but looked at Pavel Petrovitch. He impressed her +as looking strange, and her heart began throbbing slowly.</p> + +<p>'Is your conscience at rest?' he questioned her.</p> + +<p>'Why should it not be at rest?' she faltered.</p> + +<p>'Goodness knows why! Besides, whom can you have wronged? Me? That is +not likely. Any other people in the house here? That, too, is something +incredible. Can it be my brother? But you love him, don't you?'</p> + +<p>'I love him.'</p> + +<p>'With your whole soul, with your whole heart?'</p> + +<p>'I love Nikolai Petrovitch with my whole heart.'</p> + +<p>'Truly? Look at me, Fenitchka.' (It was the first time he had called +her that name.) 'You know, it's a great sin telling lies!'</p> + +<p>'I am not telling lies, Pavel Petrovitch. Not love Nikolai +Petrovitch—I shouldn't care to live after that.'</p> + +<p>'And will you never give him up for any one?'</p> + +<p>'For whom could I give him up?'</p> + +<p>'For whom indeed! Well, how about that gentleman who has just gone away +from here?'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka got up. 'My God, Pavel Petrovitch, what are you torturing me +for? What have I done to you? How can such things be said?'...</p> + +<p>'Fenitchka,' said Pavel Petrovitch, in a sorrowful voice, 'you know I +saw ...'</p> + +<p>'What did you see?'</p> + +<p>'Well, there ... in the arbour.'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka crimsoned to her hair and to her ears. 'How was I to blame +for that?' she articulated with an effort.</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch raised himself up. 'You were not to blame? No? Not at +all?'</p> + +<p>'I love Nikolai Petrovitch, and no one else in the world, and I shall +always love him!' cried Fenitchka with sudden force, while her throat +seemed fairly breaking with sobs. 'As for what you saw, at the dreadful +day of judgment I will say I'm not to blame, and wasn't to blame for +it, and I would rather die at once if people can suspect me of such a +thing against my benefactor, Nikolai Petrovitch.'</p> + +<p>But here her voice broke, and at the same time she felt that Pavel +Petrovitch was snatching and pressing her hand.... She looked at him, +and was fairly petrified. He had turned even paler than before; his +eyes were shining, and what was most marvellous of all, one large +solitary tear was rolling down his cheek.</p> + +<p>'Fenitchka!' he was saying in a strange whisper; 'love him, love my +brother! Don't give him up for any one in the world; don't listen to +any one else! Think what can be more terrible than to love and not be +loved! Never leave my poor Nikolai!'</p> + +<p>Fenitchka's eyes were dry, and her terror had passed away, so great was +her amazement. But what were her feelings when Pavel Petrovitch, Pavel +Petrovitch himself, put her hand to his lips and seemed to pierce into +it without kissing it, and only heaving convulsive sighs from time to +time....</p> + +<p>'Goodness,' she thought, 'isn't it some attack coming on him?'...</p> + +<p>At that instant his whole ruined life was stirred up within him.</p> + +<p>The staircase creaked under rapidly approaching footsteps.... He pushed +her away from him, and let his head drop back on the pillow. The door +opened, and Nikolai Petrovitch entered, cheerful, fresh, and ruddy. +Mitya, as fresh and ruddy as his father, in nothing but his little +shirt, was frisking on his shoulder, catching the big buttons of his +rough country coat with his little bare toes.</p> + +<p>Fenitchka simply flung herself upon him, and clasping him and her son +together in her arms, dropped her head on his shoulder. Nikolai +Petrovitch was surprised; Fenitchka, the reserved and staid Fenitchka, +had never given him a caress in the presence of a third person.</p> + +<p>'What's the matter?' he said, and, glancing at his brother, he gave her +Mitya. 'You don't feel worse?' he inquired, going up to Pavel +Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>He buried his face in a cambric handkerchief. 'No ... not at all ... on +the contrary, I am much better.'</p> + +<p>'You were in too great a hurry to move on to the sofa. Where are you +going?' added Nikolai Petrovitch, turning round to Fenitchka; but she +had already closed the door behind her. 'I was bringing in my young +hero to show you, he's been crying for his uncle. Why has she carried +him off? What's wrong with you, though? Has anything passed between +you, eh?'</p> + +<p>'Brother!' said Pavel Petrovitch solemnly.</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch started. He felt dismayed, he could not have said +why himself.</p> + +<p>'Brother,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, 'give me your word that you will +carry out my one request.'</p> + +<p>'What request? Tell me.'</p> + +<p>'It is very important; the whole happiness of your life, to my idea, +depends on it. I have been thinking a great deal all this time over +what I want to say to you now.... Brother, do your duty, the duty of an +honest and generous man; put an end to the scandal and bad example you +are setting—you, the best of men!'</p> + +<p>'What do you mean, Pavel?'</p> + +<p>'Marry Fenitchka.... She loves you; she is the mother of your son.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch stepped back a pace, and flung up his hands. 'Do you +say that, Pavel? you whom I have always regarded as the most determined +opponent of such marriages! You say that? Don't you know that it has +simply been out of respect for you that I have not done what you so +rightly call my duty?'</p> + +<p>'You were wrong to respect me in that case,' Pavel Petrovitch +responded, with a weary smile. 'I begin to think Bazarov was right in +accusing me of snobbishness. No dear brother, don't let us worry +ourselves about appearances and the world's opinion any more; we are +old folks and humble now; it's time we laid aside vanity of all kinds. +Let us, just as you say, do our duty; and mind, we shall get happiness that +way into the bargain.'</p> + +<p>Nikolai Petrovitch rushed to embrace his brother.</p> + +<p>'You have opened my eyes completely!' he cried. 'I was right in always +declaring you the wisest and kindest-hearted fellow in the world, and +now I see you are just as reasonable as you are noble-hearted.'</p> + +<p>'Quietly, quietly,' Pavel Petrovitch interrupted him; 'don't hurt the +leg of your reasonable brother, who at close upon fifty has been +fighting a duel like an ensign. So, then, it's a settled matter; +Fenitchka is to be my ... <i>belle soeur.'</i></p> + +<p>'My dearest Pavel! But what will Arkady say?'</p> + +<p>'Arkady? he'll be in ecstasies, you may depend upon it! Marriage is +against his principles, but then the sentiment of equality in him will +be gratified. And, after all, what sense have class distinctions <i>au +dix-neuvième siècle?'</i></p> + +<p>'Ah, Pavel, Pavel! let me kiss you once more! Don't be afraid, I'll be +careful.'</p> + +<p>The brothers embraced each other.</p> + +<p>'What do you think, should you not inform her of your intention now?' +queried Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'Why be in a hurry?' responded Nikolai Petrovitch. 'Has there been any +conversation between you?'</p> + +<p>'Conversation between us? <i>Quelle idée!'</i></p> + +<p>'Well, that is all right then. First of all, you must get well, and +meanwhile there's plenty of time. We must think it over well, and +consider ...'</p> + +<p>'But your mind is made up, I suppose?'</p> + +<p>'Of course, my mind is made up, and I thank you from the bottom of my +heart. I will leave you now; you must rest; any excitement is bad for +you.... But we will talk it over again. Sleep well, dear heart, and God +bless you!'</p> + +<p>'What is he thanking me like that for?' thought Pavel Petrovitch, when +he was left alone. 'As though it did not depend on him! I will go away +directly he is married, somewhere a long way off—to Dresden or +Florence, and will live there till I——'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch moistened his forehead with eau de cologne, and closed +his eyes. His beautiful, emaciated head, the glaring daylight shining +full upon it, lay on the white pillow like the head of a dead man.... +And indeed he was a dead man.</p> +<br><a name="chap25"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XXV</h4> +<br> + +<p>At Nikolskoe Katya and Arkady were sitting in the garden on a turf seat +in the shade of a tall ash tree; Fifi had placed himself on the ground +near them, giving his slender body that graceful curve, which is known +among dog-fanciers as 'the hare bend.' Both Arkady and Katya were +silent; he was holding a half-open book in his hands, while she was +picking out of a basket the few crumbs of bread left in it, and +throwing them to a small family of sparrows, who with the frightened +impudence peculiar to them were hopping and chirping at her very feet. +A faint breeze stirring in the ash leaves kept slowly moving pale-gold +flecks of sunlight up and down over the path and Fifi's tawny back; a +patch of unbroken shade fell upon Arkady and Katya; only from time to +time a bright streak gleamed on her hair. Both were silent, but the +very way in which they were silent, in which they were sitting +together, was expressive of confidential intimacy; each of them seemed +not even to be thinking of his companion, while secretly rejoicing in +his presence. Their faces, too, had changed since we saw them last; +Arkady looked more tranquil, Katya brighter and more daring.</p> + +<p>'Don't you think,' began Arkady, 'that the ash has been very well named +in Russian <i>yasen;</i> no other tree is so lightly and brightly +transparent <i>(yasno)</i> against the air as it is.'</p> + +<p>Katya raised her eyes to look upward, and assented, 'Yes'; while Arkady +thought, 'Well, she does not reproach me for <i>talking finely.'</i></p> + +<p>'I don't like Heine,' said Katya, glancing towards the book which +Arkady was holding in his hands, 'either when he laughs or when he +weeps; I like him when he's thoughtful and melancholy.'</p> + +<p>'And I like him when he laughs,' remarked Arkady.</p> + +<p>'That's the relics left in you of your old satirical tendencies.' +('Relics!' thought Arkady—'if Bazarov had heard that?') 'Wait a +little; we shall transform you.'</p> + +<p>'Who will transform me? You?'</p> + +<p>'Who?—my sister; Porfiry Platonovitch, whom you've given up +quarrelling with; auntie, whom you escorted to church the day before +yesterday.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I couldn't refuse! And as for Anna Sergyevna, she agreed with +Yevgeny in a great many things, you remember?'</p> + +<p>'My sister was under his influence then, just as you were.'</p> + +<p>'As I was? Do you discover, may I ask, that I've shaken off his +influence now?'</p> + +<p>Katya did not speak.</p> + +<p>'I know,' pursued Arkady, 'you never liked him.'</p> + +<p>'I can have no opinion about him.'</p> + +<p>'Do you know, Katerina Sergyevna, every time I hear that answer I +disbelieve it.... There is no man that every one of us could not have +an opinion about! That's simply a way of getting out of it.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I'll say, then, I don't.... It's not exactly that I don't like +him, but I feel that he's of a different order from me, and I am +different from him ... and you too are different from him.'</p> + +<p>'How's that?'</p> + +<p>'How can I tell you.... He's a wild animal, and you and I are tame.'</p> + +<p>'Am I tame too?'</p> + +<p>Katya nodded.</p> + +<p>Arkady scratched his ear. 'Let me tell you, Katerina Sergyevna, do you +know, that's really an insult?'</p> + +<p>'Why, would you like to be a wild——'</p> + +<p>'Not wild, but strong, full of force.'</p> + +<p>'It's no good wishing for that.... Your friend, you see, doesn't wish +for it, but he has it.'</p> + +<p>'Hm! So you imagine he had a great influence on Anna Sergyevna?'</p> + +<p>'Yes. But no one can keep the upper hand of her for long,' added Katya +in a low voice.</p> + +<p>'Why do you think that?'</p> + +<p>'She's very proud.... I didn't mean that ... she values her +independence a great deal.'</p> + +<p>'Who doesn't value it?' asked Arkady, and the thought flashed through +his mind, 'What good is it?' 'What good is it?' it occurred to Katya to +wonder too. When young people are often together on friendly terms, +they are constantly stumbling on the same ideas.</p> + +<p>Arkady smiled, and, coming slightly closer to Katya, he said in a +whisper, 'Confess that you are a little afraid of her.'</p> + +<p>'Of whom?'</p> + +<p>'Her,' repeated Arkady significantly.</p> + +<p>'And how about you?' Katya asked in her turn.</p> + +<p>'I am too, observe I said, I am <i>too.'</i></p> + +<p>Katya threatened him with her finger. 'I wonder at that,' she began; +'my sister has never felt so friendly to you as just now; much more so +than when you first came.'</p> + +<p>'Really!'</p> + +<p>'Why, haven't you noticed it? Aren't you glad of it?'</p> + +<p>Arkady grew thoughtful.</p> + +<p>'How have I succeeded in gaining Anna Sergyevna's good opinion? Wasn't +it because I brought her your mother's letters?'</p> + +<p>'Both that and other causes, which I shan't tell you.'</p> + +<p>'Why?'</p> + +<p>'I shan't say.'</p> + +<p>'Oh! I know; you're very obstinate.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I am.'</p> + +<p>'And observant.'</p> + +<p>Katya gave Arkady a sidelong look. 'Perhaps so; does that irritate you? +What are you thinking of?'</p> + +<p>'I am wondering how you have come to be as observant as in fact you +are. You are so shy so reserved; you keep every one at a distance.'</p> + +<p>'I have lived a great deal alone; that drives one to reflection. But do +I really keep every one at a distance?'</p> + +<p>Arkady flung a grateful glance at Katya.</p> + +<p>'That's all very well,' he pursued; 'but people in your position—I +mean in your circumstances—don't often have that faculty; it is hard +for them, as it is for sovereigns, to get at the truth.'</p> + +<p>'But, you see, I am not rich.'</p> + +<p>Arkady was taken aback, and did not at once understand Katya. 'Why, of +course, the property's all her sister's!' struck him suddenly; the +thought was not unpleasing to him. 'How nicely you said that!' he +commented.</p> + +<p>'What?'</p> + +<p>'You said it nicely, simply, without being ashamed or making a boast of +it. By the way, I imagine there must always be something special, a +kind of pride of a sort in the feeling of any man, who knows and says +he is poor.'</p> + +<p>'I have never experienced anything of that sort, thanks to my sister. I +only referred to my position just now because it happened to come up.'</p> + +<p>'Well; but you must own you have a share of that pride I spoke of just +now.'</p> + +<p>'For instance?'</p> + +<p>'For instance, you—forgive the question—you wouldn't marry a rich +man, I fancy, would you?'</p> + +<p>'If I loved him very much.... No, I think even then I wouldn't marry +him.'</p> + +<p>'There! you see!' cried Arkady, and after a short pause he added, 'And +why wouldn't you marry him?'</p> + +<p>'Because even in the ballads unequal matches are always unlucky.'</p> + +<p>'You want to rule, perhaps, or ...'</p> + +<p>'Oh, no! why should I? On the contrary, I am ready to obey; only +inequality is intolerable. To respect one's self and obey, that I can +understand, that's happiness; but a subordinate existence ... No, I've +had enough of that as it is.'</p> + +<p>'Enough of that as it is,' Arkady repeated after Katya. 'Yes, yes,' he +went on, 'you're not Anna Sergyevna's sister for nothing; you're just +as independent as she is; but you're more reserved. I'm certain you +wouldn't be the first to give expression to your feeling, however +strong and holy it might be ...'</p> + +<p>'Well, what would you expect?' asked Katya.</p> + +<p>'You're equally clever; and you've as much, if not more, character than +she.'</p> + +<p>'Don't compare me with my sister, please,' interposed Katya hurriedly; +'that's too much to my disadvantage. You seem to forget my sister's +beautiful and clever, and ... you in particular, Arkady Nikolaevitch, +ought not to say such things, and with such a serious face too.'</p> + +<p>'What do you mean by "you in particular"—and what makes you suppose I +am joking?'</p> + +<p>'Of course, you are joking.'</p> + +<p>'You think so? But what if I'm persuaded of what I say? If I believe I +have not put it strongly enough even?'</p> + +<p>'I don't understand you.'</p> + +<p>'Really? Well, now I see; I certainly took you to be more observant +than you are.'</p> + +<p>'How?'</p> + +<p>Arkady made no answer, and turned away, while Katya looked for a few +more crumbs in the basket, and began throwing them to the sparrows; but +she moved her arm too vigorously, and they flew away, without stopping +to pick them up.</p> + +<p>'Katerina Sergyevna!' began Arkady suddenly; 'it's of no consequence to +you, probably; but, let me tell you, I put you not only above your +sister, but above every one in the world.'</p> + +<p>He got up and went quickly away, as though he were frightened at the +words that had fallen from his lips.</p> + +<p>Katya let her two hands drop together with the basket on to her lap, +and with bent head she stared a long while after Arkady. Gradually a +crimson flush came faintly out upon her cheeks; but her lips did not +smile and her dark eyes had a look of perplexity and some other, as yet +undefined, feeling.</p> + +<p>'Are you alone?' she heard the voice of Anna Sergyevna near her; 'I +thought you came into the garden with Arkady.'</p> + +<p>Katya slowly raised her eyes to her sister (elegantly, even elaborately +dressed, she was standing in the path and tickling Fifi's ears with the +tip of her open parasol), and slowly replied, 'Yes, I'm alone.'</p> + +<p>'So I see,' she answered with a smile; 'I suppose he has gone to his +room.'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Have you been reading together?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna took Katya by the chin and lifted her face up.</p> + +<p>'You have not been quarrelling, I hope?'</p> + +<p>'No,' said Katya, and she quietly removed her sister's hand.</p> + +<p>'How solemnly you answer! I expected to find him here, and meant to +suggest his coming a walk with me. That's what he is always asking for. +They have sent you some shoes from the town; go and try them on; I +noticed only yesterday your old ones are quite shabby. You never think +enough about it, and you have such charming little feet! Your hands are +nice too ... though they're large; so you must make the most of your +little feet. But you're not vain.'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna went farther along the path with a light rustle of her +beautiful gown; Katya got up from the grass, and, taking Heine with +her, went away too—but not to try on her shoes.</p> + +<p>'Charming little feet!' she thought, as she slowly and lightly mounted +the stone steps of the terrace, which were burning with the heat of the +sun; 'charming little feet you call them.... Well, he shall be at +them.'</p> + +<p>But all at once a feeling of shame came upon her, and she ran swiftly +upstairs.</p> + +<p>Arkady had gone along the corridor to his room; a steward had overtaken +him, and announced that Mr. Bazarov was in his room.</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny!' murmured Arkady, almost with dismay; 'has he been here +long?'</p> + +<p>'Mr. Bazarov arrived this minute, sir, and gave orders not to announce +him to Anna Sergyevna, but to show him straight up to you.'</p> + +<p>'Can any misfortune have happened at home?' thought Arkady, and running +hurriedly up the stairs, he at once opened the door. The sight of +Bazarov at once reassured him, though a more experienced eye might very +probably have discerned signs of inward agitation in the sunken, though +still energetic face of the unexpected visitor. With a dusty cloak over +his shoulders, with a cap on his head, he was sitting at the window; he +did not even get up when Arkady flung himself with noisy exclamations +on his neck.</p> + +<p>'This is unexpected! What good luck brought you?' he kept repeating, +bustling about the room like one who both imagines himself and wishes +to show himself delighted. 'I suppose everything's all right at home; +every one's well, eh?'</p> + +<p>'Everything's all right, but not every one's well,' said Bazarov. +'Don't be a chatterbox, but send for some kvass for me, sit down, and +listen while I tell you all about it in a few, but, I hope, pretty +vigorous sentences.'</p> + +<p>Arkady was quiet while Bazarov described his duel with Pavel +Petrovitch. Arkady was very much surprised, and even grieved, but he +did not think it necessary to show this; he only asked whether his +uncle's wound was really not serious; and on receiving the reply that +it was most interesting, but not from a medical point of view, he gave +a forced smile, but at heart he felt both wounded and as it were +ashamed. Bazarov seemed to understand him.</p> + +<p>'Yes, my dear fellow,' he commented, 'you see what comes of living with +feudal personages. You turn a feudal personage yourself, and find +yourself taking part in knightly tournaments. Well, so I set off for my +father's,' Bazarov wound up, 'and I've turned in here on the way ... to +tell you all this, I should say, if I didn't think a useless lie a +piece of foolery. No, I turned in here—the devil only knows why. You +see, it's sometimes a good thing for a man to take himself by the +scruff of the neck and pull himself up, like a radish out of its bed; +that's what I've been doing of late.... But I wanted to have one more +look at what I'm giving up, at the bed where I've been planted.'</p> + +<p>'I hope those words don't refer to me,' responded Arkady with some +emotion; 'I hope you don't think of giving me up?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov turned an intent, almost piercing look upon him.</p> + +<p>'Would that be such a grief to you? It strikes me <i>you</i> have given me +up already, you look so fresh and smart.... Your affair with Anna +Sergyevna must be getting on successfully.'</p> + +<p>'What do you mean by my affair with Anna Sergyevna?'</p> + +<p>'Why, didn't you come here from the town on her account, chicken? By +the way, how are those Sunday schools getting on? Do you mean to tell +me you're not in love with her? Or have you already reached the stage +of discretion?'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny, you know I have always been open with you; I can assure you, +I will swear to you, you're making a mistake.'</p> + +<p>'Hm! That's another story,' remarked Bazarov in an undertone. 'But you +needn't be in a taking, it's a matter of absolute indifference to me. A +sentimentalist would say, "I feel that our paths are beginning to +part," but I will simply say that we're tired of each other.'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny ...'</p> + +<p>'My dear soul, there's no great harm in that. One gets tired of much +more than that in this life. And now I suppose we'd better say +good-bye, hadn't we? Ever since I've been here I've had such a +loathsome feeling, just as if I'd been reading Gogol's effusions to the +governor of Kalouga's wife. By the way, I didn't tell them to take the +horses out.'</p> + +<p>'Upon my word, this is too much!'</p> + +<p>'Why?'</p> + +<p>'I'll say nothing of myself; but that would be discourteous to the last +degree to Anna Sergyevna, who will certainly wish to see you.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, you're mistaken there.'</p> + +<p>'On the contrary, I am certain I'm right,' retorted Arkady. 'And what +are you pretending for? If it comes to that, haven't you come here on +her account yourself?'</p> + +<p>'That may be so, but you're mistaken any way.'</p> + +<p>But Arkady was right. Anna Sergyevna desired to see Bazarov, and sent a +summons to him by a steward. Bazarov changed his clothes before going +to her; it turned out that he had packed his new suit so as to be able +to get it out easily.</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov received him not in the room where he had so +unexpectedly declared his love to her, but in the drawing-room. She +held her finger tips out to him cordially, but her face betrayed an +involuntary sense of tension.</p> + +<p>'Anna Sergyevna,' Bazarov hastened to say, 'before everything else I +must set your mind at rest. Before you is a poor mortal, who has come +to his senses long ago, and hopes other people too have forgotten his +follies. I am going away for a long while; and though, as you will +allow, I'm by no means a very soft creature, it would be anything but +cheerful for me to carry away with me the idea that you remember me +with repugnance.'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna gave a deep sigh like one who has just climbed up a high +mountain, and her face was lighted up by a smile. She held out her hand +a second time to Bazarov, and responded to his pressure.</p> + +<p>'Let bygones be bygones,' she said. 'I am all the readier to do so +because, speaking from my conscience, I was to blame then too for +flirting or something. In a word, let us be friends as before. That was +a dream, wasn't it? And who remembers dreams?'</p> + +<p>'Who remembers them? And besides, love ... you know, is a purely +imaginary feeling.'</p> + +<p>'Really? I am very glad to hear that.'</p> + +<p>So Anna Sergyevna spoke, and so spoke Bazarov; they both supposed they +were speaking the truth. Was the truth, the whole truth, to be found in +their words? They could not themselves have said, and much less could +the author. But a conversation followed between them precisely as +though they completely believed one another.</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna asked Bazarov, among other things, what he had been +doing at the Kirsanovs'. He was on the point of telling her about his +duel with Pavel Petrovitch, but he checked himself with the thought +that she might imagine he was trying to make himself interesting, and +answered that he had been at work all the time.</p> + +<p>'And I,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'had a fit of depression at first, +goodness knows why; I even made plans for going abroad, fancy!... Then +it passed off, your friend Arkady Nikolaitch came, and I fell back into +my old routine, and took up my real part again.'</p> + +<p>'What part is that, may I ask?'</p> + +<p>'The character of aunt, guardian, mother—call it what you like. By the +way, do you know I used not quite to understand your close friendship +with Arkady Nikolaitch; I thought him rather insignificant. But now I +have come to know him better, and to see that he is clever.... And he's +young, he's young ... that's the great thing ... not like you and me, +Yevgeny Vassilyitch.'</p> + +<p>'Is he still as shy in your company?' queried Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Why, was he?' ... Anna Sergyevna began, and after a brief pause she +went on: 'He has grown more confiding now; he talks to me. He used to +avoid me before. Though, indeed, I didn't seek his society either. He's +more friends with Katya.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov felt irritated. 'A woman can't help humbugging, of course!' he +thought. 'You say he used to avoid you,' he said aloud, with a chilly +smile; 'but it is probably no secret to you that he was in love with +you?'</p> + +<p>'What! he too?' fell from Anna Sergyevna's lips.</p> + +<p>'He too,' repeated Bazarov, with a submissive bow. 'Can it be you +didn't know it, and I've told you something new?'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna dropped her eyes. 'You are mistaken, Yevgeny +Vassilyitch.'</p> + +<p>'I don't think so. But perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it.' 'And +don't you try telling me lies again for the future,' he added to +himself.</p> + +<p>'Why not? But I imagine that in this too you are attributing too much +importance to a passing impression. I begin to suspect you are inclined +to exaggeration.'</p> + +<p>'We had better not talk about it, Anna Sergyevna.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, why?' she retorted; but she herself led the conversation into +another channel. She was still ill at ease with Bazarov, though she had +told him, and assured herself that everything was forgotten. While she +was exchanging the simplest sentences with him, even while she was +jesting with him, she was conscious of a faint spasm of dread. So +people on a steamer at sea talk and laugh carelessly, for all the world +as though they were on dry land; but let only the slightest hitch +occur, let the least sign be seen of anything out of the common, and at +once on every face there comes out an expression of peculiar alarm, +betraying the constant consciousness of constant danger.</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna's conversation with Bazarov did not last long. She began +to seem absorbed in thought, answered abstractedly, and suggested at +last that they should go into the hall, where they found the princess +and Katya. 'But where is Arkady Nikolaitch?' inquired the lady of the +house; and on hearing that he had not shown himself for more than an +hour, she sent for him. He was not very quickly found; he had hidden +himself in the very thickest part of the garden, and with his chin +propped on his folded hands, he was sitting lost in meditation. They +were deep and serious meditations, but not mournful. He knew Anna +Sergyevna was sitting alone with Bazarov, and he felt no jealousy, as +once he had; on the contrary, his face slowly brightened; he seemed to +be at once wondering and rejoicing, and resolving on something.</p> +<br><a name="chap26"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVI</h4> +<br> + +<p>The deceased Odintsov had not liked innovations, but he had tolerated +'the fine arts within a certain sphere,' and had in consequence put up +in his garden, between the hothouse and the lake, an erection after the +fashion of a Greek temple, made of Russian brick. Along the dark wall +at the back of this temple or gallery were placed six niches for +statues, which Odintsov had proceeded to order from abroad. These +statues were to represent Solitude, Silence, Meditation, Melancholy, +Modesty, and Sensibility. One of them, the goddess of Silence, with her +finger on her lip, had been sent and put up; but on the very same day +some boys on the farm had broken her nose; and though a plasterer of +the neighbourhood undertook to make her a new nose 'twice as good as +the old one,' Odintsov ordered her to be taken away, and she was still +to be seen in the corner of the threshing barn, where she had stood +many long years, a source of superstitious terror to the peasant women. +The front part of the temple had long ago been overgrown with thick +bushes; only the pediments of the columns could be seen above the dense +green. In the temple itself it was cool even at mid-day. Anna Sergyevna +had not liked visiting this place ever since she had seen a snake +there; but Katya often came and sat on the wide stone seat under one of +the niches. Here, in the midst of the shade and coolness, she used to +read and work, or to give herself up to that sensation of perfect +peace, known, doubtless, to each of us, the charm of which consists in +the half-unconscious, silent listening to the vast current of life that +flows for ever both around us and within us.</p> + +<p>The day after Bazarov's arrival Katya was sitting on her favourite +stone seat, and beside her again was sitting Arkady. He had besought +her to come with him to the 'temple.'</p> + +<p>There was about an hour still to lunch-time; the dewy morning had +already given place to a sultry day. Arkady's face retained the +expression of the preceding day; Katya had a preoccupied look. Her +sister had, directly after their morning tea, called her into her room, +and after some preliminary caresses, which always scared Katya a +little, she had advised her to be more guarded in her behaviour with +Arkady, and especially to avoid solitary talks with him, as likely to +attract the notice of her aunt and all the household. Besides this, +even the previous evening Anna Sergyevna had not been herself; and +Katya herself had felt ill at ease, as though she were conscious of +some fault in herself. As she yielded to Arkady's entreaties, she said +to herself that it was for the last time.</p> + +<p>'Katerina Sergyevna,' he began with a sort of bashful easiness, 'since +I've had the happiness of living in the same house with you, I have +discussed a great many things with you; but meanwhile there is one, +very important ... for me ... one question, which I have not touched +upon up till now. You remarked yesterday that I have been changed +here,' he went on, at once catching and avoiding the questioning glance +Katya was turning upon him. 'I have changed certainly a great deal, and +you know that better than any one else—you to whom I really owe this +change.'</p> + +<p>'I?... Me?...' said Katya.</p> + +<p>'I am not now the conceited boy I was when I came here,' Arkady went +on. 'I've not reached twenty-three for nothing; as before, I want to be +useful, I want to devote all my powers to the truth; but I no longer +look for my ideals where I did; they present themselves to me ... much +closer to hand. Up till now I did not understand myself; I set myself +tasks which were beyond my powers.... My eyes have been opened lately, +thanks to one feeling.... I'm not expressing myself quite clearly, but +I hope you understand me.'</p> + +<p>Katya made no reply, but she ceased looking at Arkady.</p> + +<p>'I suppose,' he began again, this time in a more agitated voice, while +above his head a chaffinch sang its song unheeding among the leaves of +the birch—'I suppose it's the duty of every one to be open with those +... with those people who ... in fact, with those who are near to him, +and so I ... I resolved ...'</p> + +<p>But here Arkady's eloquence deserted him; he lost the thread, +stammered, and was forced to be silent for a moment. Katya still did +not raise her eyes. She seemed not to understand what he was leading up +to in all this, and to be waiting for something.</p> + +<p>'I foresee I shall surprise you,' began Arkady, pulling himself +together again with an effort, 'especially since this feeling relates +in a way ... in a way, notice ... to you. You reproached me, if you +remember, yesterday with a want of seriousness,' Arkady went on, with +the air of a man who has got into a bog, feels that he is sinking +further and further in at every step, and yet hurries onwards in the +hope of crossing it as soon as possible; 'that reproach is often aimed +... often falls ... on young men even when they cease to deserve it; +and if I had more self-confidence ...' ('Come, help me, do help me!' +Arkady was thinking, in desperation; but, as before, Katya did not turn +her head.) 'If I could hope ...'</p> + +<p>'If I could feel sure of what you say,' was heard at that instant the +clear voice of Anna Sergyevna.</p> + +<p>Arkady was still at once, while Katya turned pale. Close by the bushes +that screened the temple ran a little path. Anna Sergyevna was walking +along it escorted by Bazarov. Katya and Arkady could not see them, but +they heard every word, the rustle of their clothes, their very +breathing. They walked on a few steps, and, as though on purpose, stood +still just opposite the temple.</p> + +<p>'You see,' pursued Anna Sergyevna, 'you and I made a mistake; we are +both past our first youth, I especially so; we have seen life, we are +tired; we are both—why affect not to know it?—clever; at first we +interested each other, curiosity was aroused ... and then ...'</p> + +<p>'And then I grew stale,' put in Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'You know that was not the cause of our misunderstanding. But, however, +it was to be, we had no need of one another, that's the chief point; +there was too much ... what shall I say? ... that was alike in us. We +did not realise it all at once. Now, Arkady ...'</p> + +<p>'So you need him?' queried Bazarov.</p> + +<p>'Hush, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You tell me he is not indifferent to me, +and it always seemed to me he liked me. I know that I might well be his +aunt, but I don't wish to conceal from you that I have come to think +more often of him. In such youthful, fresh feeling there is a special +charm ...'</p> + +<p>'The word <i>fascination</i> is most usual in such cases,' Bazarov +interrupted; the effervescence of his spleen could be heard in his +choked though steady voice. 'Arkady was mysterious over something with +me yesterday, and didn't talk either of you or your sister.... That's a +serious symptom.'</p> + +<p>'He is just like a brother with Katya,' commented Anna Sergyevna, 'and +I like that in him, though, perhaps, I ought not to have allowed such +intimacy between them.'</p> + +<p>'That idea is prompted by ... your feelings as a sister?' Bazarov +brought out, drawling.</p> + +<p>'Of course ... but why are we standing still? Let us go on. What a +strange talk we are having, aren't we? I could never have believed I +should talk to you like this. You know, I am afraid of you ... and at +the same time I trust you, because in reality you are so good.'</p> + +<p>'In the first place, I am not in the least good; and in the second +place, I have lost all significance for you, and you tell me I am +good.... It's like a laying a wreath of flowers on the head of a +corpse.'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, we are not responsible ...' Anna Sergyevna began; +but a gust of wind blew across, set the leaves rustling, and carried +away her words. 'Of course, you are free ...' Bazarov declared after a +brief pause. Nothing more could be distinguished; the steps retreated +... everything was still.</p> + +<p>Arkady turned to Katya. She was sitting in the same position, but her +head was bent still lower. 'Katerina Sergyevna,' he said with a shaking +voice, and clasping his hands tightly together, 'I love you for ever +and irrevocably, and I love no one but you. I wanted to tell you this, +to find out your opinion of me, and to ask for your hand, since I am +not rich, and I feel ready for any sacrifice.... You don't answer me? +You don't believe me? Do you think I speak lightly? But remember these +last days! Surely for a long time past you must have known that +everything—understand me—everything else has vanished long ago and +left no trace? Look at me, say one word to me ... I love ... I love you +... believe me!'</p> + +<p>Katya glanced at Arkady with a bright and serious look, and after long +hesitation, with the faintest smile, she said, 'Yes.'</p> + +<p>Arkady leapt up from the stone seat. 'Yes! You said Yes, Katerina +Sergyevna! What does that word mean? Only that I do love you, that you +believe me ... or ... or ... I daren't go on ...'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' repeated Katya, and this time he understood her. He snatched her +large beautiful hands, and, breathless with rapture, pressed them to +his heart. He could scarcely stand on his feet, and could only repeat, +'Katya, Katya ...' while she began weeping in a guileless way, smiling +gently at her own tears. No one who has not seen those tears in the +eyes of the beloved, knows yet to what a point, faint with shame and +gratitude, a man may be happy on earth.</p> + +<p>The next day, early in the morning, Anna Sergyevna sent to summon +Bazarov to her boudoir, and with a forced laugh handed him a folded +sheet of notepaper. It was a letter from Arkady; in it he asked for her +sister's hand.</p> + +<p>Bazarov quickly scanned the letter, and made an effort to control +himself, that he might not show the malignant feeling which was +instantaneously aflame in his breast.</p> + +<p>'So that's how it is,' he commented; 'and you, I fancy, only yesterday +imagined he loved Katerina Sergyevna as a brother. What are you +intending to do now?'</p> + +<p>'What do you advise me?' asked Anna Sergyevna, still laughing.</p> + +<p>'Well, I suppose,' answered Bazarov, also with a laugh, though he felt +anything but cheerful, and had no more inclination to laugh than she +had; 'I suppose you ought to give the young people your blessing. It's +a good match in every respect; Kirsanov's position is passable, he's +the only son, and his father's a good-natured fellow, he won't try to +thwart him.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov walked up and down the room. By turns her face flushed +and grew pale. 'You think so,' she said. 'Well, I see no obstacles ... +I am glad for Katya ... and for Arkady Nikolaevitch too. Of course, I +will wait for his father's answer. I will send him in person to him. +But it turns out, you see, that I was right yesterday when I told you +we were both old people.... How was it I saw nothing? That's what +amazes me!' Anna Sergyevna laughed again, and quickly turned her head +away.</p> + +<p>'The younger generation have grown awfully sly,' remarked Bazarov, and +he too laughed. 'Good-bye,' he began again after a short silence. 'I +hope you will bring the matter to the most satisfactory conclusion; and +I will rejoice from a distance.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov turned quickly to him. 'You are not going away? Why +should you not stay <i>now?</i> Stay ... it's exciting talking to you ... +one seems walking on the edge of a precipice. At first one feels timid, +but one gains courage as one goes on. Do stay.'</p> + +<p>'Thanks for the suggestion, Anna Sergyevna, and for your flattering +opinion of my conversational talents. But I think I have already been +moving too long in a sphere which is not my own. Flying fishes can hold +out for a time in the air; but soon they must splash back into the +water; allow me, too, to paddle in my own element.'</p> + +<p>Madame Odintsov looked at Bazarov. His pale face was twitching with a +bitter smile. 'This man did love me!' she thought, and she felt pity +for him, and held out her hand to him with sympathy.</p> + +<p>But he too understood her. 'No!' he said, stepping back a pace. 'I'm a +poor man, but I've never taken charity so far. Good-bye, and good luck +to you.'</p> + +<p>'I am certain we are not seeing each other for the last time,' Anna +Sergyevna declared with an unconscious gesture.</p> + +<p>'Anything may happen!' answered Bazarov, and he bowed and went away.</p> + +<p>'So you are thinking of making yourself a nest?' he said the same day +to Arkady, as he packed his box, crouching on the floor. 'Well, it's a +capital thing. But you needn't have been such a humbug. I expected +something from you in quite another quarter. Perhaps, though, it took +you by surprise yourself?'</p> + +<p>'I certainly didn't expect this when I parted from you,' answered +Arkady; 'but why are you a humbug yourself, calling it "a capital +thing," as though I didn't know your opinion of marriage.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, my dear fellow,' said Bazarov, 'how you talk! You see what I'm +doing; there seems to be an empty space in the box, and I am putting +hay in; that's how it is in the box of our life; we would stuff it up +with anything rather than have a void. Don't be offended, please; you +remember, no doubt, the opinion I have always had of Katerina +Sergyevna. Many a young lady's called clever simply because she can +sigh cleverly; but yours can hold her own, and, indeed, she'll hold it +so well that she'll have you under her thumb—to be sure, though, +that's quite as it ought to be.' He slammed the lid to, and got up from +the floor. 'And now, I say again, good-bye, for it's useless to deceive +ourselves—we are parting for good, and you know that yourself ... you +have acted sensibly; you're not made for our bitter, rough, lonely +existence. There's no dash, no hate in you, but you've the daring of +youth and the fire of youth. Your sort, you gentry, can never get +beyond refined submission or refined indignation, and that's no good. +You won't fight—and yet you fancy yourselves gallant chaps—but we +mean to fight. Oh well! Our dust would get into your eyes, our mud +would bespatter you, but yet you're not up to our level, you're +admiring yourselves unconsciously, you like to abuse yourselves; but +we're sick of that—we want something else! we want to smash other +people! You're a capital fellow; but you're a sugary, liberal snob for +all that—<i>ay volla-too,</i> as my parent is fond of saying.'</p> + +<p>'You are parting from me for ever, Yevgeny,' responded Arkady +mournfully; 'and have you nothing else to say to me?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov scratched the back of his head. 'Yes, Arkady, yes, I have other +things to say to you, but I'm not going to say them, because that's +sentimentalism—that means, mawkishness. And you get married as soon as +you can; and build your nest, and get children to your heart's content. +They'll have the wit to be born in a better time than you and me. Aha! +I see the horses are ready. Time's up! I've said good-bye to every +one.... What now? embracing, eh?'</p> + +<p>Arkady flung himself on the neck of his former leader and friend, and +the tears fairly gushed from his eyes.</p> + +<p>'That's what comes of being young!' Bazarov commented calmly. 'But I +rest my hopes on Katerina Sergyevna. You'll see how quickly she'll +console you! Good-bye, brother!' he said to Arkady when he had got into +the light cart, and, pointing to a pair of jackdaws sitting side by +side on the stable roof, he added, 'That's for you! follow that +example.'</p> + +<p>'What does that mean?' asked Arkady.</p> + +<p>'What? Are you so weak in natural history, or have you forgotten that +the jackdaw is a most respectable family bird? An example to you!... +Good-bye!'</p> + +<p>The cart creaked and rolled away.</p> + +<p>Bazarov had spoken truly. In talking that evening with Katya, Arkady +completely forgot about his former teacher. He already began to follow +her lead, and Katya was conscious of this, and not surprised at it. He +was to set off the next day for Maryino, to see Nikolai Petrovitch. +Anna Sergyevna was not disposed to put any constraint on the young +people, and only on account of the proprieties did not leave them by +themselves for too long together. She magnanimously kept the princess +out of their way; the latter had been reduced to a state of tearful +frenzy by the news of the proposed marriage. At first Anna Sergyevna +was afraid the sight of their happiness might prove rather trying to +herself, but it turned out quite the other way; this sight not only did +not distress her, it interested her, it even softened her at last. Anna +Sergyevna felt both glad and sorry at this. 'It is clear that Bazarov +was right,' she thought; 'it has been curiosity, nothing but curiosity, +and love of ease, and egoism ...'</p> + +<p>'Children,' she said aloud, 'what do you say, is love a purely +imaginary feeling?'</p> + +<p>But neither Katya nor Arkady even understood her. They were shy with +her; the fragment of conversation they had involuntarily overheard +haunted their minds. But Anna Sergyevna soon set their minds at rest; +and it was not difficult for her—she had set her own mind at rest.</p> +<br><a name="chap27"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVII</h4> +<br> + +<p>Bazarov's old parents were all the more overjoyed by their son's +arrival, as it was quite unexpected. Arina Vlasyevna was greatly +excited, and kept running backwards and forwards in the house, so that +Vassily Ivanovitch compared her to a 'hen partridge'; the short tail of +her abbreviated jacket did, in fact, give her something of a birdlike +appearance. He himself merely growled and gnawed the amber mouthpiece +of his pipe, or, clutching his neck with his fingers, turned his head +round, as though he were trying whether it were properly screwed on, +then all at once he opened his wide mouth and went off into a perfectly +noiseless chuckle.</p> + +<p>'I've come to you for six whole weeks, governor,' Bazarov said to him. +'I want to work, so please don't hinder me now.'</p> + +<p>'You shall forget my face completely, if you call that hindering you!' +answered Vassily Ivanovitch.</p> + +<p>He kept his promise. After installing his son as before in his study, +he almost hid himself away from him, and he kept his wife from all +superfluous demonstrations of tenderness. 'On Enyusha's first visit, my +dear soul,' he said to her, 'we bothered him a little; we must be wiser +this time.' Arina Vlasyevna agreed with her husband, but that was small +compensation since she saw her son only at meals, and was now +absolutely afraid to address him. 'Enyushenka,' she would say +sometimes—and before he had time to look round, she was nervously +fingering the tassels of her reticule and faltering, 'Never mind, never +mind, I only——' and afterwards she would go to Vassily Ivanovitch +and, her cheek in her hand, would consult him: 'If you could only find +out, darling, which Enyusha would like for dinner to-day—cabbage-broth +or beetroot-soup?'—'But why didn't you ask him yourself?'—'Oh, he will +get sick of me!' Bazarov, however, soon ceased to shut himself up; the +fever of work fell away, and was replaced by dreary boredom or vague +restlessness. A strange weariness began to show itself in all his +movements; even his walk, firm, bold and strenuous, was changed. He +gave up walking in solitude, and began to seek society; he drank tea in +the drawing-room, strolled about the kitchen-garden with Vassily +Ivanovitch, and smoked with him in silence; once even asked after +Father Alexey. Vassily Ivanovitch at first rejoiced at this change, but +his joy was not long-lived. 'Enyusha's breaking my heart,' he +complained in secret to his wife; 'it's not that he's discontented or +angry—that would be nothing; he's sad, he's sorrowful—that's what's +so terrible. He's always silent. If he'd only abuse us; he's growing +thin, he's lost his colour.'—'Mercy on us, mercy on us!' whispered the +old woman; 'I would put an amulet on his neck, but, of course, he won't +allow it.' Vassily Ivanovitch several times attempted in the most +circumspect manner to question Bazarov about his work, about his +health, and about Arkady.... But Bazarov's replies were reluctant and +casual; and, once noticing that his father was trying gradually to lead +up to something in conversation, he said to him in a tone of vexation: +'Why do you always seem to be walking round me on tiptoe? That way's +worse than the old one.'—'There, there, I meant nothing!' poor Vassily +Ivanovitch answered hurriedly. So his diplomatic hints remained +fruitless. He hoped to awaken his son's sympathy one day by beginning +<i>à propos</i> of the approaching emancipation of the peasantry, to talk +about progress; but the latter responded indifferently: 'Yesterday I +was walking under the fence, and I heard the peasant boys here, instead +of some old ballad, bawling a street song. That's what progress is.'</p> + +<p>Sometimes Bazarov went into the village, and in his usual bantering +tone entered into conversation with some peasant: 'Come,' he would say +to him, 'expound your views on life to me, brother; you see, they say +all the strength and future of Russia lies in your hands, a new epoch +in history will be started by you—you give us our real language and +our laws.'</p> + +<p>The peasant either made no reply, or articulated a few words of this +sort, 'Well, we'll try ... because, you see, to be sure....'</p> + +<p>'You explain to me what your <i>mir</i> is,' Bazarov interrupted; 'and is it +the same <i>mir</i> that is said to rest on three fishes?'</p> + +<p>'That, little father, is the earth that rests on three fishes,' the +peasant would declare soothingly, in a kind of patriarchal, +simple-hearted sing-song; 'and over against ours, that's to say, the +<i>mir,</i> we know there's the master's will; wherefore you are our +fathers. And the stricter the master's rule, the better for the +peasant.'</p> + +<p>After listening to such a reply one day, Bazarov shrugged his shoulders +contemptuously and turned away, while the peasant sauntered slowly +homewards.</p> + +<p>'What was he talking about?' inquired another peasant of middle age and +surly aspect, who at a distance from the door of his hut had been +following his conversation with Bazarov.—'Arrears? eh?'</p> + +<p>'Arrears, no indeed, mate!' answered the first peasant, and now there +was no trace of patriarchal singsong in his voice; on the contrary, +there was a certain scornful gruffness to be heard in it: 'Oh, he +clacked away about something or other; wanted to stretch his tongue a +bit. Of course, he's a gentleman; what does he understand?'</p> + +<p>'What should he understand!' answered the other peasant, and jerking +back their caps and pushing down their belts, they proceeded to +deliberate upon their work and their wants. Alas! Bazarov, shrugging +his shoulders contemptuously, Bazarov, who knew how to talk to peasants +(as he had boasted in his dispute with Pavel Petrovitch), did not in +his self-confidence even suspect that in their eyes he was all the +while something of the nature of a buffooning clown.</p> + +<p>He found employment for himself at last, however. One day Vassily +Ivanovitch bound up a peasant's wounded leg before him, but the old +man's hands trembled, and he could not manage the bandages; his son +helped him, and from time to time began to take a share in his +practice, though at the same time he was constantly sneering both at +the remedies he himself advised and at his father, who hastened to make +use of them. But Bazarov's jeers did not in the least perturb Vassily +Ivanovitch; they were positively a comfort to him. Holding his greasy +dressing-gown across his stomach with two fingers, and smoking his +pipe, he used to listen with enjoyment to Bazarov; and the more +malicious his sallies, the more good-humouredly did his delighted +father chuckle, showing every one of his black teeth. He used even to +repeat these sometimes flat or pointless retorts, and would, for +instance, for several days constantly without rhyme or reason, +reiterate, 'Not a matter of the first importance!' simply because his +son, on hearing he was going to matins, had made use of that +expression. 'Thank God! he has got over his melancholy!' he whispered +to his wife; 'how he gave it to me to-day, it was splendid!' Moreover, +the idea of having such an assistant excited him to ecstasy, filled him +with pride. 'Yes, yes,' he would say to some peasant woman in a man's +cloak, and a cap shaped like a horn, as he handed her a bottle of +Goulard's extract or a box of white ointment, 'you ought to be thanking +God, my good woman, every minute that my son is staying with me; you +will be treated now by the most scientific, most modern method. Do you +know what that means? The Emperor of the French, Napoleon, even, has no +better doctor.' And the peasant woman, who had come to complain that +she felt so sort of queer all over (the exact meaning of these words +she was not able, however, herself to explain), merely bowed low and +rummaged in her bosom, where four eggs lay tied up in the corner of a +towel.</p> + +<p>Bazarov once even pulled out a tooth for a passing pedlar of cloth; and +though this tooth was an average specimen, Vassily Ivanovitch preserved +it as a curiosity, and incessantly repeated, as he showed it to Father +Alexey, 'Just look, what a fang! The force Yevgeny has! The pedlar +seemed to leap into the air. If it had been an oak, he'd have rooted it +up!'</p> + +<p>'Most promising!' Father Alexey would comment at last, not knowing what +answer to make, and how to get rid of the ecstatic old man.</p> + +<p>One day a peasant from a neighbouring village brought his brother to +Vassily Ivanovitch, ill with typhus. The unhappy man, lying flat on a +truss of straw, was dying; his body was covered with dark patches, he +had long ago lost consciousness. Vassily Ivanovitch expressed his +regret that no one had taken steps to procure medical aid sooner, and +declared there was no hope. And, in fact, the peasant did not get his +brother home again; he died in the cart.</p> + +<p>Three days later Bazarov came into his father's room and asked him if +he had any caustic.</p> + +<p>'Yes; what do you want it for?'</p> + +<p>'I must have some ... to burn a cut.'</p> + +<p>'For whom?'</p> + +<p>'For myself.'</p> + +<p>'What, yourself? Why is that? What sort of a cut? Where is it?'</p> + +<p>'Look here, on my finger. I went to-day to the village, you know, where +they brought that peasant with typhus fever. They were just going to +open the body for some reason or other, and I've had no practice of +that sort for a long while.'</p> + +<p>'Well?'</p> + +<p>'Well, so I asked the district doctor about it; and so I dissected it.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch all at once turned quite white, and, without +uttering a word, rushed to his study, from which he returned at once +with a bit of caustic in his hand. Bazarov was about to take it and go +away.</p> + +<p>'For mercy's sake,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, 'let me do it myself.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov smiled. 'What a devoted practitioner!'</p> + +<p>'Don't laugh, please. Show me your finger. The cut is not a large one. +Do I hurt?'</p> + +<p>'Press harder; don't be afraid.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch stopped. 'What do you think, Yevgeny; wouldn't it be +better to burn it with hot iron?'</p> + +<p>'That ought to have been done sooner; the caustic even is useless, +really, now. If I've taken the infection, it's too late now.'</p> + +<p>'How ... too late ...' Vassily Ivanovitch could scarcely articulate the +words.</p> + +<p>'I should think so! It's more than four hours ago.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch burnt the cut a little more. 'But had the district +doctor no caustic?'</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>'How was that, good Heavens? A doctor not have such an indispensable +thing as that!'</p> + +<p>'You should have seen his lancets,' observed Bazarov as he walked away.</p> + +<p>Up till late that evening, and all the following day, Vassily +Ivanovitch kept catching at every possible excuse to go into his son's +room; and though far from referring to the cut—he even tried to talk +about the most irrelevant subjects—he looked so persistently into his +face, and watched him in such trepidation, that Bazarov lost patience +and threatened to go away. Vassily Ivanovitch gave him a promise not to +bother him, the more readily as Arina Vlasyevna, from whom, of course, +he kept it all secret, was beginning to worry him as to why he did not +sleep, and what had come over him. For two whole days he held himself +in, though he did not at all like the look of his son, whom he kept +watching stealthily, ... but on the third day, at dinner, he could bear +it no longer. Bazarov sat with downcast looks, and had not touched a +single dish.</p> + +<p>'Why don't you eat, Yevgeny?' he inquired, putting on an expression of +the most perfect carelessness. 'The food, I think, is very nicely +cooked.'</p> + +<p>'I don't want anything, so I don't eat.'</p> + +<p>'Have you no appetite? And your head?' he added timidly; 'does it +ache?'</p> + +<p>'Yes. Of course, it aches.'</p> + +<p>Arina Vlasyevna sat up and was all alert.</p> + +<p>'Don't be angry, please, Yevgeny,' continued Vassily Ivanovitch; 'won't +you let me feel your pulse?'</p> + +<p>Bazarov got up. 'I can tell you without feeling my pulse; I'm +feverish.'</p> + +<p>'Has there been any shivering?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, there has been shivering too. I'll go and lie down, and you can +send me some lime-flower tea. I must have caught cold.'</p> + +<p>'To be sure, I heard you coughing last night,' observed Arina +Vlasyevna.</p> + +<p>'I've caught cold,' repeated Bazarov, and he went away.</p> + +<p>Arina Vlasyevna busied herself about the preparation of the decoction +of lime-flowers, while Vassily Ivanovitch went into the next room and +clutched at his hair in silent desperation.</p> + +<p>Bazarov did not get up again that day, and passed the whole night in +heavy, half-unconscious torpor. At one o'clock in the morning, opening +his eyes with an effort, he saw by the light of a lamp his father's +pale face bending over him, and told him to go away. The old man begged +his pardon, but he quickly came back on tiptoe, and half-hidden by the +cupboard door, he gazed persistently at his son. Arina Vlasyevna did +not go to bed either, and leaving the study door just open a very +little, she kept coming up to it to listen 'how Enyusha was breathing,' +and to look at Vassily Ivanovitch. She could see nothing but his +motionless bent back, but even that afforded her some faint +consolation. In the morning Bazarov tried to get up; he was seized with +giddiness, his nose began to bleed; he lay down again. Vassily +Ivanovitch waited on him in silence; Arina Vlasyevna went in to him and +asked him how he was feeling. He answered, 'Better,' and turned to the +wall. Vassily Ivanovitch gesticulated at his wife with both hands; she +bit her lips so as not to cry, and went away. The whole house seemed +suddenly darkened; every one looked gloomy; there was a strange hush; a +shrill cock was carried away from the yard to the village, unable to +comprehend why he should be treated so. Bazarov still lay, turned to +the wall. Vassily Ivanovitch tried to address him with various +questions, but they fatigued Bazarov, and the old man sank into his +armchair, motionless, only cracking his finger-joints now and then. He +went for a few minutes into the garden, stood there like a statue, as +though overwhelmed with unutterable bewilderment (the expression of +amazement never left his face all through), and went back again to his +son, trying to avoid his wife's questions. She caught him by the arm at +last and passionately, almost menacingly, said, 'What is wrong with +him?' Then he came to himself, and forced himself to smile at her in +reply; but to his own horror, instead of a smile, he found himself +taken somehow by a fit of laughter. He had sent at daybreak for a +doctor. He thought it necessary to inform his son of this, for fear he +should be angry. Bazarov suddenly turned over on the sofa, bent a fixed +dull look on his father, and asked for drink.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch gave him some water, and as he did so felt his +forehead. It seemed on fire.</p> + +<p>'Governor,' began Bazarov, in a slow, drowsy voice; 'I'm in a bad way; +I've got the infection, and in a few days you'll have to bury me.'</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch staggered back, as though some one had aimed a blow +at his legs.</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny!' he faltered; 'what do you mean!... God have mercy on you! +You've caught cold!'</p> + +<p>'Hush!' Bazarov interposed deliberately. 'A doctor can't be allowed to +talk like that. There's every symptom of infection; you know yourself.'</p> + +<p>'Where are the symptoms ... of infection Yevgeny?... Good Heavens!'</p> + +<p>'What's this?' said Bazarov, and, pulling up his shirtsleeve, he showed +his father the ominous red patches coming out on his arm.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch was shaking and chill with terror.</p> + +<p>'Supposing,' he said at last, 'even supposing ... if even there's +something like ... infection ...'</p> + +<p>'Pyæmia,' put in his son.</p> + +<p>'Well, well ... something of the epidemic ...'</p> + +<p>'Pyæmia,' Bazarov repeated sharply and distinctly; 'have you forgotten +your text-books?'</p> + +<p>'Well, well—as you like.... Anyway, we will cure you!'</p> + +<p>'Come, that's humbug. But that's not the point. I didn't expect to die +so soon; it's a most unpleasant incident, to tell the truth. You and +mother ought to make the most of your strong religious belief; now's +the time to put it to the test.' He drank off a little water. 'I want +to ask you about one thing ... while my head is still under my control. +To-morrow or next day my brain, you know, will send in its resignation. +I'm not quite certain even now whether I'm expressing myself clearly. +While I've been lying here, I've kept fancying red dogs were running +round me, while you were making them point at me, as if I were a +woodcock. Just as if I were drunk. Do you understand me all right?'</p> + +<p>'I assure you, Yevgeny, you are talking perfectly correctly.'</p> + +<p>'All the better. You told me you'd sent for the doctor. You did that to +comfort yourself ... comfort me too; send a messenger ...'</p> + +<p>'To Arkady Nikolaitch?' put in the old man.</p> + +<p>'Who's Arkady Nikolaitch?' said Bazarov, as though in doubt.... 'Oh, +yes! that chicken! No, let him alone; he's turned jackdaw now. Don't be +surprised; that's not delirium yet. You send a messenger to Madame +Odintsov, Anna Sergyevna; she's a lady with an estate.... Do you know?' +(Vassily Ivanovitch nodded.) 'Yevgeny Bazarov, say, sends his +greetings, and sends word he is dying. Will you do that?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I will do it.... But is it a possible thing for you to die, +Yevgeny?... Think only! Where would divine justice be after that?'</p> + +<p>'I know nothing about that; only you send the messenger.'</p> + +<p>'I'll send this minute, and I'll write a letter myself.'</p> + +<p>'No, why? Say I sent greetings; nothing more is necessary. And now I'll +go back to my dogs. Strange! I want to fix my thoughts on death, and +nothing comes of it. I see a kind of blur ... and nothing more.'</p> + +<p>He turned painfully back to the wall again; while Vassily Ivanovitch +went out of the study, and struggling as far as his wife's bedroom, +simply dropped down on to his knees before the holy pictures.</p> + +<p>'Pray, Arina, pray for us!' he moaned; 'our son is dying.'</p> + +<p>The doctor, the same district doctor who had had no caustic, arrived, +and after looking at the patient, advised them to persevere with a +cooling treatment, and at that point said a few words of the chance of +recovery.</p> + +<p>'Have you ever chanced to see people in my state <i>not</i> set off for +Elysium?' asked Bazarov, and suddenly snatching the leg of a heavy +table that stood near his sofa, he swung it round, and pushed it away. +'There's strength, there's strength,' he murmured; 'everything's here +still, and I must die!... An old man at least has time to be weaned +from life, but I ... Well, go and try to disprove death. Death will +disprove you, and that's all! Who's crying there?' he added, after a +short pause—'Mother? Poor thing! Whom will she feed now with her +exquisite beetroot-soup? You, Vassily Ivanovitch, whimpering too, I do +believe! Why, if Christianity's no help to you, be a philosopher, a +Stoic, or what not! Why, didn't you boast you were a philosopher?'</p> + +<p>'Me a philosopher!' wailed Vassily Ivanovitch, while the tears fairly +streamed down his cheeks.</p> + +<p>Bazarov got worse every hour; the progress of the disease was rapid, as +is usually the way in cases of surgical poisoning. He still had not +lost consciousness, and understood what was said to him; he was still +struggling. 'I don't want to lose my wits,' he muttered, clenching his +fists; 'what rot it all is!' And at once he would say, 'Come, take ten +from eight, what remains?' Vassily Ivanovitch wandered about like one +possessed, proposed first one remedy, then another, and ended by doing +nothing but cover up his son's feet. 'Try cold pack ... emetic ... +mustard plasters on the stomach ... bleeding,' he would murmur with an +effort. The doctor, whom he had entreated to remain, agreed with him, +ordered the patient lemonade to drink, and for himself asked for a pipe +and something 'warming and strengthening'—that's to say, brandy. Arina +Vlasyevna sat on a low stool near the door, and only went out from time +to time to pray. A few days before, a looking-glass had slipped out of +her hands and been broken, and this she had always considered an omen +of evil; even Anfisushka could say nothing to her. Timofeitch had gone +off to Madame Odintsov's.</p> + +<p>The night passed badly for Bazarov.... He was in the agonies of high +fever. Towards morning he was a little easier. He asked for Arina +Vlasyevna to comb his hair, kissed her hand, and swallowed two gulps of +tea. Vassily Ivanovitch revived a little.</p> + +<p>'Thank God!' he kept declaring; 'the crisis is coming, the crisis is at +hand!'</p> + +<p>'There, to think now!' murmured Bazarov; 'what a word can do! He's +found it; he's said "crisis," and is comforted. It's an astounding +thing how man believes in words. If he's told he's a fool, for +instance, though he's not thrashed, he'll be wretched; call him a +clever fellow, and he'll be delighted if you go off without paying +him.'</p> + +<p>This little speech of Bazarov's, recalling his old retorts, moved +Vassily Ivanovitch greatly.</p> + +<p>'Bravo! well said, very good!' he cried, making as though he were +clapping his hands.</p> + +<p>Bazarov smiled mournfully.</p> + +<p>'So what do you think,' he said; 'is the crisis over, or coming?'</p> + +<p>'You are better, that's what I see, that's what rejoices me,' answered +Vassily Ivanovitch.</p> + +<p>'Well, that's good; rejoicings never come amiss. And to her, do you +remember? did you send?'</p> + +<p>'To be sure I did.'</p> + +<p>The change for the better did not last long. The disease resumed its +onslaughts. Vassily Ivanovitch was sitting by Bazarov. It seemed as +though the old man were tormented by some special anguish. He was +several times on the point of speaking—and could not.</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny!' he brought out at last; 'my son, my one, dear son!'</p> + +<p>This unfamiliar mode of address produced an effect on Bazarov. He +turned his head a little, and, obviously trying to fight against the +load of oblivion weighing upon him, he articulated: 'What is it, +father?'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny,' Vassily Ivanovitch went on, and he fell on his knees before +Bazarov, though the latter had closed his eyes and could not see him. +'Yevgeny, you are better now; please God, you will get well, but make +use of this time, comfort your mother and me, perform the duty of a +Christian! What it means for me to say this to you, it's awful; but +still more awful ... for ever and ever, Yevgeny ... think a little, +what ...'</p> + +<p>The old man's voice broke, and a strange look passed over his son's +face, though he still lay with closed eyes.</p> + +<p>'I won't refuse, if that can be any comfort to you,' he brought out at +last; 'but it seems to me there's no need to be in a hurry. You say +yourself I am better.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, yes, Yevgeny, better certainly; but who knows, it is all in God's +hands, and in doing the duty ...'</p> + +<p>'No, I will wait a bit,' broke in Bazarov. 'I agree with you that the +crisis has come. And if we're mistaken, well! they give the sacrament +to men who're unconscious, you know.'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny, I beg.'</p> + +<p>'I'll wait a little. And now I want to go to sleep. Don't disturb me.' +And he laid his head back on the pillow.</p> + +<p>The old man rose from his knees, sat down in the armchair, and, +clutching his beard, began biting his own fingers ...</p> + +<p>The sound of a light carriage on springs, that sound which is +peculiarly impressive in the wilds of the country, suddenly struck upon +his hearing. Nearer and nearer rolled the light wheels; now even the +neighing of the horses could be heard.... Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up +and ran to the little window. There drove into the courtyard of his +little house a carriage with seats for two, with four horses harnessed +abreast. Without stopping to consider what it could mean, with a rush +of a sort of senseless joy, he ran out on to the steps.... A groom in +livery was opening the carriage doors; a lady in a black veil and a +black mantle was getting out of it ...</p> + +<p>'I am Madame Odintsov,' she said. 'Yevgeny Vassilvitch is still living? +You are his father? I have a doctor with me.'</p> + +<p>'Benefactress!' cried Vassily Ivanovitch, and snatching her hand, he +pressed it convulsively to his lips, while the doctor brought by Anna +Sergyevna, a little man in spectacles, of German physiognomy, stepped +very deliberately out of the carriage. 'Still living, my Yevgeny is +living, and now he will be saved! Wife! wife!... An angel from heaven +has come to us....'</p> + +<p>'What does it mean, good Lord!' faltered the old woman, running out of +the drawing-room; and, comprehending nothing, she fell on the spot in +the passage at Anna Sergyevna's feet, and began kissing her garments +like a mad woman.</p> + +<p>'What are you doing!' protested Anna Sergyevna; but Arina Vlasyevna did +not heed her, while Vassily Ivanovitch could only repeat, 'An angel! an +angel!'</p> + +<p><i>'Wo ist der Kranke?</i> and where is the patient?' said the doctor at +last, with some impatience.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch recovered himself. 'Here, here, follow me, +würdigster Herr Collega,' he added through old associations.</p> + +<p>'Ah!' articulated the German, grinning sourly.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch led him into the study. 'The doctor from Anna +Sergyevna Odintsov,' he said, bending down quite to his son's ear, 'and +she herself is here.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov suddenly opened his eyes. 'What did you say?'</p> + +<p>'I say that Anna Sergyevna is here, and has brought this gentleman, a +doctor, to you.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov moved his eyes about him. 'She is here.... I want to see her.'</p> + +<p>'You shall see her, Yevgeny; but first we must have a little talk with +the doctor. I will tell him the whole history of your illness since +Sidor Sidoritch' (this was the name of the district doctor) 'has gone, +and we will have a little consultation.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov glanced at the German. 'Well, talk away quickly, only not in +Latin; you see, I know the meaning of <i>jam moritur.'</i></p> + +<p>'<i>Der Herr scheint des Deutschen mächtig zu sein</i>,' began the new +follower of Æsculapius, turning to Vassily Ivanovitch.</p> + +<p>'<i>Ich</i> ... <i>gabe</i> ... We had better speak Russian,' said the old man.</p> + +<p>'Ah, ah! so that's how it is.... To be sure ...' And the consultation +began.</p> + +<p>Half-an-hour later Anna Sergyevna, conducted by Vassily Ivanovitch, +came into the study. The doctor had had time to whisper to her that it +was hopeless even to think of the patient's recovery.</p> + +<p>She looked at Bazarov ... and stood still in the doorway, so greatly +was she impressed by the inflamed, and at the same time deathly face, +with its dim eyes fastened upon her. She felt simply dismayed, with a +sort of cold and suffocating dismay; the thought that she would not +have felt like that if she had really loved him flashed instantaneously +through her brain.</p> + +<p>'Thanks,' he said painfully, 'I did not expect this. It's a deed of +mercy. So we have seen each other again, as you promised.'</p> + +<p>'Anna Sergyevna has been so kind,' began Vassily Ivanovitch ...</p> + +<p>'Father, leave us alone. Anna Sergyevna, you will allow it, I fancy, +now?'</p> + +<p>With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless frame.</p> + +<p>Vassily Ivanovitch went out.</p> + +<p>'Well, thanks,' repeated Bazarov. 'This is royally done. Monarchs, they +say, visit the dying too.'</p> + +<p>'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I hope——'</p> + +<p>'Ah, Anna Sergyevna, let us speak the truth. It's all over with me. I'm +under the wheel. So it turns out that it was useless to think of the +future. Death's an old joke, but it comes fresh to every one. So far +I'm not afraid ... but there, senselessness is coming, and then it's +all up!——' he waved his hand feebly. 'Well, what had I to say to you +... I loved you! there was no sense in that even before, and less than +ever now. Love is a form, and my own form is already breaking up. +Better say how lovely you are! And now here you stand, so beautiful +...'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna gave an involuntary shudder.</p> + +<p>'Never mind, don't be uneasy.... Sit down there.... Don't come close to +me; you know, my illness is catching.'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in the armchair +near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying.</p> + +<p>'Noble-hearted!' he whispered. 'Oh, how near, and how young, and fresh, +and pure ... in this loathsome room!... Well, good-bye! live long, +that's the best of all, and make the most of it while there is time. +You see what a hideous spectacle; the worm half-crushed, but writhing +still. And, you see, I thought too: I'd break down so many things, I +wouldn't die, why should I! there were problems to solve, and I was a +giant! And now all the problem for the giant is how to die decently, +though that makes no difference to any one either.... Never mind; I'm +not going to turn tail.'</p> + +<p>Bazarov was silent, and began feeling with his hand for the glass. Anna +Sergyevna gave him some drink, not taking off her glove, and drawing +her breath timorously.</p> + +<p>'You will forget me,' he began again; 'the dead's no companion for the +living. My father will tell you what a man Russia is losing.... That's +nonsense, but don't contradict the old man. Whatever toy will comfort +the child ... you know. And be kind to mother. People like them aren't +to be found in your great world if you look by daylight with a +candle.... I was needed by Russia.... No, it's clear, I wasn't needed. +And who is needed? The shoemaker's needed, the tailor's needed, the +butcher ... gives us meat ... the butcher ... wait a little, I'm +getting mixed.... There's a forest here ...'</p> + +<p>Bazarov put his hand to his brow.</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna bent down to him. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I am here ...'</p> + +<p>He at once took his hand away, and raised himself.</p> + +<p>'Good-bye,' he said with sudden force, and his eyes gleamed with their +last light. 'Good-bye.... Listen ... you know I didn't kiss you +then.... Breathe on the dying lamp, and let it go out ...'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna put her lips to his forehead.</p> + +<p>'Enough!' he murmured, and dropped back on to the pillow. 'Now ... +darkness ...'</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna went softly out. 'Well?' Vassily Ivanovitch asked her in +a whisper.</p> + +<p>'He has fallen asleep,' she answered, hardly audibly. Bazarov was not +fated to awaken. Towards evening he sank into complete unconsciousness, +and the following day he died. Father Alexey performed the last rites +of religion over him. When they anointed him with the last unction, +when the holy oil touched his breast, one eye opened, and it seemed as +though at the sight of the priest in his vestments, the smoking +censers, the light before the image, something like a shudder of horror +passed over the death-stricken face. When at last he had breathed his +last, and there arose a universal lamentation in the house, Vassily +Ivanovitch was seized by a sudden frenzy. 'I said I should rebel,' he +shrieked hoarsely, with his face inflamed and distorted, shaking his +fist in the air, as though threatening some one; 'and I rebel, I +rebel!' But Arina Vlasyevna, all in tears, hung upon his neck, and both +fell on their faces together. 'Side by side,' Anfisushka related +afterwards in the servants' room, 'they dropped their poor heads like +lambs at noonday ...'</p> + +<p>But the heat of noonday passes, and evening comes and night, and then, +too, the return to the kindly refuge, where sleep is sweet for the +weary and heavy laden....</p> +<br><a name="chap28"></a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII</h4> +<br> + +<p>Six months had passed by. White winter had come with the cruel +stillness of unclouded frosts, the thick-lying, crunching snow, the +rosy rime on the trees, the pale emerald sky, the wreaths of smoke +above the chimneys, the clouds of steam rushing out of the doors when +they are opened for an instant, with the fresh faces, that look stung +by the cold, and the hurrying trot of the chilled horses. A January day +was drawing to its close; the cold evening was more keen than ever in +the motionless air, and a lurid sunset was rapidly dying away. There +were lights burning in the windows of the house at Maryino; Prokofitch +in a black frockcoat and white gloves, with a special solemnity, laid +the table for seven. A week before in the small parish church two +weddings had taken place quietly, and almost without witnesses—Arkady +and Katya's, and Nikolai Petrovitch and Fenitchka's; and on this day +Nikolai Petrovitch was giving a farewell dinner to his brother, who was +going away to Moscow on business. Anna Sergyevna had gone there also +directly after the ceremony was over, after making very handsome +presents to the young people.</p> + +<p>Precisely at three o'clock they all gathered about the table. Mitya was +placed there too; with him appeared a nurse in a cap of glazed brocade. +Pavel Petrovitch took his seat between Katya and Fenitchka; the +'husbands' took their places beside their wives. Our friends had +changed of late; they all seemed to have grown stronger and better +looking; only Pavel Petrovitch was thinner, which gave even more of an +elegant and 'grand seigneur' air to his expressive features.... And +Fenitchka too was different. In a fresh silk gown, with a wide velvet +head-dress on her hair, with a gold chain round her neck, she sat with +deprecating immobility, respectful towards herself and everything +surrounding her, and smiled as though she would say, 'I beg your +pardon; I'm not to blame.' And not she alone—all the others smiled, +and also seemed apologetic; they were all a little awkward, a little +sorry, and in reality very happy. They all helped one another with +humorous attentiveness, as though they had all agreed to rehearse a +sort of artless farce. Katya was the most composed of all; she looked +confidently about her, and it could be seen that Nikolai Petrovitch was +already devotedly fond of her. At the end of dinner he got up, and, his +glass in his hand, turned to Pavel Petrovitch.</p> + +<p>'You are leaving us ... you are leaving us, dear brother,' he began; +'not for long, to be sure; but still, I cannot help expressing what I +... what we ... how much I ... how much we.... There, the worst of it +is, we don't know how to make speeches. Arkady, you speak.'</p> + +<p>'No, daddy, I've not prepared anything.'</p> + +<p>'As though I were so well prepared! Well, brother, I will simply say, +let us embrace you, wish you all good luck, and come back to us as +quickly as you can!'</p> + +<p>Pavel Petrovitch exchanged kisses with every one, of course not +excluding Mitya; in Fenitchka's case, he kissed also her hand, which +she had not yet learned to offer properly, and drinking off the glass +which had been filled again, he said with a deep sigh, 'May you be +happy, my friends! <i>Farewell!'</i> This English finale passed unnoticed; +but all were touched.</p> + +<p>'To the memory of Bazarov,' Katya whispered in her husband's ear, as +she clinked glasses with him. Arkady pressed her hand warmly in +response, but he did not venture to propose this toast aloud.</p> + +<p>The end, would it seem? But perhaps some one of our readers would care +to know what each of the characters we have introduced is doing in the +present, the actual present. We are ready to satisfy him.</p> + +<p>Anna Sergyevna has recently made a marriage, not of love but of good +sense, with one of the future leaders of Russia, a very clever man, a +lawyer, possessed of vigorous practical sense, a strong will, and +remarkable fluency—still young, good-natured, and cold as ice. They +live in the greatest harmony together, and will live perhaps to attain +complete happiness ... perhaps love. The Princess K—— is dead, +forgotten the day of her death. The Kirsanovs, father and son, live at +Maryino; their fortunes are beginning to mend. Arkady has become +zealous in the management of the estate, and the 'farm' now yields a +fairly good income. Nikolai Petrovitch has been made one of the +mediators appointed to carry out the emancipation reforms, and works +with all his energies; he is for ever driving about over his district; +delivers long speeches (he maintains the opinion that the peasants +ought to be 'brought to comprehend things,' that is to say, they ought +to be reduced to a state of quiescence by the constant repetition of +the same words); and yet, to tell the truth, he does not give complete +satisfaction either to the refined gentry, who talk with <i>chic,</i> or +depression of the <i>emancipation</i> (pronouncing it as though it were +French), nor of the uncultivated gentry, who unceremoniously curse 'the +damned <i>'mancipation.'</i> He is too soft-hearted for both sets. Katerina +Sergyevna has a son, little Nikolai, while Mitya runs about merrily and +talks fluently. Fenitchka, Fedosya Nikolaevna, after her husband and +Mitya, adores no one so much as her daughter-in-law, and when the +latter is at the piano, she would gladly spend the whole day at her +side.</p> + +<p>A passing word of Piotr. He has grown perfectly rigid with stupidity +and dignity, but he too is married, and received a respectable dowry +with his bride, the daughter of a market-gardener of the town, who had +refused two excellent suitors, only because they had no watch; while +Piotr had not only a watch—he had a pair of kid shoes.</p> + +<p>In the Brühl Terrace in Dresden, between two and four o'clock—the most +fashionable time for walking—you may meet a man about fifty, quite +grey, and looking as though he suffered from gout, but still handsome, +elegantly dressed, and with that special stamp, which is only gained by +moving a long time in the higher strata of society. That is Pavel +Petrovitch. From Moscow he went abroad for the sake of his health, and +has settled for good at Dresden, where he associates most with English +and Russian visitors. With English people he behaves simply, almost +modestly, but with dignity; they find him rather a bore, but respect +him for being, as they say, <i>'a perfect gentleman.'</i> With Russians he +is more free and easy, gives vent to his spleen, and makes fun of +himself and them, but that is done by him with great amiability, +negligence, and propriety. He holds Slavophil views; it is well known +that in the highest society this is regarded as <i>très distingué!</i> He +reads nothing in Russian, but on his writing table there is a silver +ashpan in the shape of a peasant's plaited shoe. He is much run after +by our tourists. Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, happening to be in temporary +opposition, paid him a majestic visit; while the natives, with whom, +however, he is very little seen, positively grovel before him. No one +can so readily and quickly obtain a ticket for the court chapel, for +the theatre, and such things as <i>der Herr Baron von Kirsanoff</i>. He does +everything good-naturedly that he can; he still makes some little noise +in the world; it is not for nothing that he was once a great society +lion;—but life is a burden to him ... a heavier burden than he +suspects himself. One need but glance at him in the Russian church, +when, leaning against the wall on one side, he sinks into thought, and +remains long without stirring, bitterly compressing his lips, then +suddenly recollects himself, and begins almost imperceptibly crossing +himself....</p> + +<p>Madame Kukshin, too, went abroad. She is in Heidelberg, and is now +studying not natural science, but architecture, in which, according to +her own account, she has discovered new laws. She still fraternises +with students, especially with the young Russians studying natural +science and chemistry, with whom Heidelberg is crowded, and who, +astounding the naïve German professors at first by the soundness of +their views of things, astound the same professors no less in the +sequel by their complete inefficiency and absolute idleness. In company +with two or three such young chemists, who don't know oxygen from +nitrogen, but are filled with scepticism and self-conceit, and, too, +with the great Elisyevitch, Sitnikov roams about Petersburg, also +getting ready to be great, and in his own conviction continues the +'work' of Bazarov. There is a story that some one recently gave him a +beating; but he was avenged upon him; in an obscure little article, +hidden in an obscure little journal, he has hinted that the man who +beat him was a coward. He calls this irony. His father bullies him as +before, while his wife regards him as a fool ... and a literary man.</p> + +<p>There is a small village graveyard in one of the remote corners of +Russia. Like almost all our graveyards, it presents a wretched +appearance; the ditches surrounding it have long been overgrown; the +grey wooden crosses lie fallen and rotting under their once painted +gables; the stone slabs are all displaced, as though some one were +pushing them up from behind; two or three bare trees give a scanty +shade; the sheep wander unchecked among the tombs.... But among them is +one untouched by man, untrampled by beast, only the birds perch upon it +and sing at daybreak. An iron railing runs round it; two young +fir-trees have been planted, one at each end. Yevgeny Bazarov is buried +in this tomb. Often from the little village not far off, two quite +feeble old people come to visit it—a husband and wife. Supporting one +another, they move to it with heavy steps; they go up to the railing, +fall down, and remain on their knees, and long and bitterly they weep, +and yearn and intently gaze at the dumb stone, under which their son is +lying; they exchange some brief word, wipe away the dust from the +stone, set straight a branch of a fir-tree, and pray again, and cannot +tear themselves from this place, where they seem to be nearer to their +son, to their memories of him.... Can it be that their prayers, their +tears are fruitless? Can it be that love, sacred, devoted love, is not +all-powerful? Oh, no! However passionate, sinning, and rebellious the +heart hidden in the tomb, the flowers growing over it peep serenely at +us with their innocent eyes; they tell us not of eternal peace alone, +of that great peace of 'indifferent' nature; tell us too of eternal +reconciliation and of life without end.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 30723-h.txt or 30723-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/7/2/30723">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/7/2/30723</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Fathers and Children + + +Author: Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev + + + +Release Date: December 21, 2009 [eBook #30723] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN*** + + +E-text prepared by Ron Swanson from page images generously made available +by Internet Archive/American Libraries +(http://www.archive.org/details/americana) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 30723-h.htm or 30723-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30723/30723-h/30723-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30723/30723-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive/American Libraries. See + http://www.archive.org/details/harvardclassicss19elio + + + + + +FATHERS AND CHILDREN + + +[Frontispiece: AVENUE AT SPASSKOE, TURGENEV'S ESTATE] + + +The Harvard Classics +Shelf of Fiction +[From Vol. 19] +Selected by Charles W. Eliot Ll.D. + + +FATHERS AND CHILDREN + +by + +IVAN TURGENEV + +Translated by Constance Garnett + +Edited with Notes and Introductions by William Allan Neilson Ph.D. + + + + + + + +P. F. Collier & Son +New York + +Published under special arrangement with +The Macmillan Company + +Copyright, 1917 +By P. F. Collier & Son + + + + +CONTENTS + + +BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE + +CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS: + I. BY EMILE MELCHIOR, VICOMTE DE VOGUE + II. BY WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS + III. BY K. WALISZEWSKI + IV. BY RICHARD H. P. CURLE + V. BY MAURICE BARING + +LIST OF CHARACTERS + +CHAPTER I + +CHAPTER II + +CHAPTER III + +CHAPTER IV + +CHAPTER V + +CHAPTER VI + +CHAPTER VII + +CHAPTER VIII + +CHAPTER IX + +CHAPTER X + +CHAPTER XI + +CHAPTER XII + +CHAPTER XIII + +CHAPTER XIV + +CHAPTER XV + +CHAPTER XVI + +CHAPTER XVII + +CHAPTER XVIII + +CHAPTER XIX + +CHAPTER XX + +CHAPTER XXI + +CHAPTER XXII + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CHAPTER XXIV + +CHAPTER XXV + +CHAPTER XXVI + +CHAPTER XXVII + +CHAPTER XXVI + + + + +BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE + + +Ivan Sergyevitch Turgenev came of an old stock of the Russian nobility. +He was born in Orel, in the province of Orel, which lies more than a +hundred miles south of Moscow, on October 28, 1818. His education was +begun by tutors at home in the great family mansion in the town of +Spask, and he studied later at the universities of Moscow, St. +Petersburg, and Berlin. The influence of the last, and of the +compatriots with whom he associated there, was very great; and when he +returned to Moscow in 1841, he was ambitious to teach Hegel to the +students there. Before this could be arranged, however, he entered the +Ministry of the Interior at St. Petersburg. While there his interests +turned more and more toward literature. He wrote verses and comedies, +read George Sand, and made the acquaintance of Dostoevsky and the +critic Bielinski. His mother, a tyrannical woman with an ungovernable +temper, was eager that he should make a brilliant official career; so, +when he resigned from the Ministry in 1845, she showed her disapproval +by cutting down his allowance and thus forcing him to support himself +by the profession he had chosen. + +Turgenev was an enthusiastic hunter; and it was his experiences in the +woods of his native province that supplied the material for "A +Sportsman's Sketches," the book that first brought him reputation. The +first of these papers appeared in 1847, and in the same year he left +Russia in the train of Pauline Viardot, a singer and actress, to whom +he had been devoted for three or four years and with whom he maintained +relations for the rest of his life. For a year or two he lived chiefly +in Paris or at a country house at Courtavenel in Brie, which belonged +to Madame Viardot; but in 1850 he returned to Russia. His experiences +were not such as to induce him to repatriate himself permanently. He +found Dostoevsky banished to Siberia and Bielinski dead; and himself +under suspicion by the government on account of the popularity of "A +Sportsman's Sketches." For praising Gogol, who had just died, he was +arrested and imprisoned for a short time, and for the next two years +kept under police surveillance. Meantime he continued to write, and by +the time that the close of the Crimean War made it possible for him +again to go to western Europe, he was recognized as standing at the +head of living Russian authors. His mother was now dead, the estates +were settled, and with an income of about $5,000 a year he became a +wanderer. He had, or imagined he had, very bad health, and the eminent +specialists he consulted sent him from one resort to another, to Rome, +the Isle of Wight, Soden, and the like. When Madame Viardot left the +stage in 1864 and took up her residence at Baden-Baden, he followed her +and built there a small house for himself. They returned to France +after the Franco-Prussian War, and bought a villa at Bougival, near +Paris, and this was his home for the rest of his life. Here, on +September 3, 1883, he died after a long delirium due to his suffering +from cancer of the spinal cord. His body was taken to St. Petersburg +and was buried with national honors. + +The two works by Turgenev contained in the present volume are +characteristic in their concern with social and political questions, +and in the prominence in both of them of heroes who fail in action. +Turgenev preaches no doctrine in his novels, has no remedy for the +universe; but he sees clearly certain weaknesses of the Russian +character and exposes these with absolute candor yet without +unkindness. Much as he lived abroad, his books are intensely Russian; +yet of the great Russian novelists he alone rivals the masters of +western Europe in the matter of form. In economy of means, +condensation, felicity of language, and excellence of structure he +surpasses all his countrymen; and "Fathers and Children" and "A House +of Gentlefolk" represent his great and delicate art at its best. + +W. A. N. + + + + +CRITICISMS AND INTERPRETATIONS + + + + +I +BY EMILE MELCHIOR, VICOMTE DE VOGUE + + +Ivan Sergyevitch (Turgenev) has given us a most complete picture of +Russian society. The same general types are always brought forward; +and, as later writers have presented exactly similar ones, with but few +modifications, we are forced to believe them true to life. First, the +peasant: meek, resigned, dull, pathetic in suffering, like a child who +does not know why he suffers; naturally sharp and tricky when not +stupefied by liquor; occasionally roused to violent passion. Then, the +intelligent middle class: the small landed proprietors of two +generations. The old proprietor is ignorant and good-natured, of +respectable family, but with coarse habits; hard, from long experience +of serfdom, servile himself, but admirable in all other relations of +life. + +The young man of this class is of quite a different type. His +intellectual growth having been too rapid, he sometimes plunges into +Nihilism. He is often well educated, melancholy, rich in ideas but poor +in executive ability; always preparing and expecting to accomplish +something of importance, filled with vague and generous projects for +the public good. This is the chosen type of hero in all Russian novels. +Gogol introduced it, and Tolstoy prefers it above all others. + +The favorite hero of young girls and romantic women is neither the +brilliant officer, the artist, nor rich lord, but almost universally +this provincial Hamlet, conscientious, cultivated, intelligent, but of +feeble will, who, returning from his studies in foreign lands, is full +of scientific theories about the improvement of mankind and the good of +the lower classes, and eager to apply these theories on his own estate. +It is quite necessary that he should have an estate of his own. He will +have the hearty sympathy of the reader in his efforts to improve the +condition of his dependents. + +The Russians well understand the conditions of the future prosperity of +their country; but, as they themselves acknowledge, they know not how +to go to work to accomplish it. + +In regard to the women of this class, Turgenev, strange to say, has +little to say of the mothers. This probably reveals the existence of +some old wound, some bitter experience of his own. Without a single +exception, all the mothers in his novels are either wicked or +grotesque. He reserves the treasures of his poetic fancy for the young +girls of his creation. To him the young girl of the country province is +the corner-stone of the fabric of society. Reared in the freedom of +country life, placed in the most healthy social conditions, she is +conscientious, frank, affectionate, without being romantic; less +intelligent than man, but more resolute. In each of his romances an +irresolute man is invariably guided by a woman of strong will. + +Such are, generally speaking, the characters the author describes, +which bear so unmistakably the stamp of nature that one cannot refrain +from saying as he closes the book, "These must be portraits from life!" +which criticism is always the highest praise, the best sanction of +works of the imagination.--From "Turgenev", in "The Russian Novelists," +translated by J. L. Edmands (1887). + + + + +II +BY WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS + + +Turgenev was of that great race which has more than any other fully and +freely uttered human nature, without either false pride or false shame +in its nakedness. His themes were oftenest those of the French +novelist, but how far he was from handling them in the French manner +and with the French spirit! In his hands sin suffered no dramatic +punishment; it did not always show itself as unhappiness, in the +personal sense, but it was always unrest, and without the hope of +peace. If the end did not appear, the fact that it must be miserable +always appeared. Life showed itself to me in different colors after I +had once read Turgenev; it became more serious, more awful, and with +mystical responsibilities I had not known before. My gay American +horizons were bathed in the vast melancholy of the Slav, patient, +agnostic, trustful. At the same time nature revealed herself to me +through him with an intimacy she had not hitherto shown me. There are +passages in this wonderful writer alive with a truth that seems drawn +from the reader's own knowledge: who else but Turgenev and one's own +most secret self ever felt all the rich, sad meaning of the night air +drawing in at the open window, of the fires burning in the darkness on +the distant fields? I try in vain to give some notion of the subtle +sympathy with nature which scarcely put itself into words with him. As +for the people of his fiction, though they were of orders and +civilizations so remote from my experience, they were of the eternal +human types whose origin and potentialities every one may find in his +own heart, and I felt their verity in every touch. + +I cannot describe the satisfaction his work gave me; I can only impart +some sense of it, perhaps, by saying that it was like a happiness I had +been waiting for all my life, and now that it had come, I was richly +content forever. I do not mean to say that the art of Turgenev +surpasses the art of Bjornson; I think Bjornson is quite as fine and +true. But the Norwegian deals with simple and primitive circumstances +for the most part, and always with a small world; and the Russian has +to do with human nature inside of its conventional shells, and his +scene is often as large as Europe. Even when it is as remote as Norway, +it is still related to the great capitals by the history if not the +actuality of the characters. Most of Turgenev's books I have read many +times over, all of them I have read more than twice. For a number of +years I read them again and again without much caring for other +fiction. It was only the other day that I read "Smoke" through once +more, with no diminished sense of its truth, but with somewhat less +than my first satisfaction in its art. Perhaps this was because I had +reached the point through my acquaintance with Tolstoy where I was +impatient even of the artifice that hid itself. In "Smoke" I was now +aware of an artifice that kept out of sight, but was still always +present somewhere, invisibly operating the story.--From "My Literary +Passions" (1895). + + + + +III +BY K. WALISZEWSKI + + +The second novel of the series, "Fathers and Children," stirred up a +storm the suddenness and violence of which it is not easy, nowadays, to +understand. The figure of Bazarov, the first "Nihilist"--thus baptized +by an inversion of epithet which was to win extraordinary success--is +merely intended to reveal a mental condition which, though the fact had +been insufficiently recognized, had already existed for some years. The +epithet itself had been in constant use since 1829, when Nadiejdine +applied it to Pushkin, Polevoi, and some other subverters of the +classic tradition. Turgenev only extended its meaning by a new +interpretation, destined to be perpetuated by the tremendous success of +"Fathers and Children." There is nothing, or hardly anything, in +Bazarov, of the terrible revolutionary whom we have since learnt to +look for under this title. Turgenev was not the man to call up such a +figure. He was far too dreamy, too gentle, too good-natured a being. +Already, in the character of Roudine, he had failed, in the strangest +way, to catch the likeness of Bakounine, that fiery organiser of +insurrection, whom all Europe knew, and whom he had selected as his +model. Conceive Corot or Millet trying to paint some figure out of the +Last Judgment after Michael Angelo! Bazarov is the Nihilist in his +first phase, "in course of becoming," as the Germans would say, and he +is a pupil of the German universities. When Turgenev shaped the +character, he certainly drew on his own memories of his stay at Berlin, +at a time when Bruno Bauer was laying it down as a dogma that no +educated man ought to have opinions on any subject, and when Max +Stirner was convincing the young Hegelians that ideas were mere smoke +and dust, seeing that the only reality in existence was the individual +_Ego_. These teachings, eagerly received by the Russian youth, were +destined to produce a state of moral decomposition, the earliest +symptoms of which were admirably analysed by Turgenev. + +Bazarov is a very clever man, but clever in thought, and especially in +word, only. He scorns art, women, and family life. He does not know +what the point of honour means. He is a cynic in his love affairs, and +indifferent in his friendships. He has no respect even for paternal +tenderness, but he is full of contradictions, even to the extent of +fighting a duel about nothing at all, and sacrificing his life for the +first peasant he meets. And in this the resemblance is true, much more +general, indeed, than the model selected would lead one to imagine; so +general, in fact, that, apart from the question of art, Turgenev--he +has admitted it himself--felt as if he were drawing his own portrait; +and therefore it is, no doubt, that he has made his hero so +sympathetic.--From "A History of Russian Literature" (1900). + + + + +IV +BY RICHARD H. P. CURLE + + +But for the best expression of the bewilderment of life we have to turn +to the portrait of a man, to the famous Bazarov of "Fathers and +Children." Turgenev raises through him the eternal problem--Has +personality any hold, has life any meaning at all? The reality of this +figure, his contempt for nature, his egoism, his strength, his mothlike +weakness are so convincing that before his philosophy all other +philosophies seem to pale. He is the one who sees the life-illusion, +and yet, knowing that it is the mask of night, grasps at it, loathing +himself. You can hate Bazarov, you cannot have contempt for him. He is +a man of genius, rid of sentiment and hope, believing in nothing but +himself, to whom come, as from the darkness, all the violent questions +of life and death. "Fathers and Children" is simply an exposure of our +power to mould our own lives. Bazarov is a man of astonishing +intellect--he is the pawn of an emotion he despises; he is a man of +gigantic will--he can do nothing but destroy his own beliefs; he is a +man of intense life--he cannot avoid the first, brainless touch of +death. It is the hopeless fight of mind against instinct, of +determination against fate, of personality against impersonality. +Bazarov disdaining everyone, sick of all smallness, is roused to fury +by the obvious irritations of Pavel Petrovitch. Savagely announcing the +creed of nihilism and the end of romance, he has only to feel the calm, +aristocratic smile of Madame Odintsov fixed on him and he suffers all +the agony of first love. Determining to live and create, he has only to +play with death for a moment, and he is caught. But though he is the +most positive of all Turgenev's male portraits, there are others +linking up the chain of delusion. There is Rudin, typical of the unrest +of the idealist; there is Nezhdanov ("Virgin Soil"), typical of the +self-torture of the anarchist. There is Shubin ("On the Eve"), hiding +his misery in laughter, and Lavretsky ("A House of Gentlefolk"), hiding +his misery in silence. It is not necessary to search for further +examples. Turgenev put his hand upon the dark things. He perceived +character, struggling in the "clutch of circumstances," the tragic +moments, the horrible conflicts of personality. His figures have that +capability of suffering which (as someone has said) is the true sign of +life. They seem like real people, dazed and uncertain. No action of +theirs ever surprises you, because in each of them he has made you hear +an inward soliloquy.--From "Turgenev and the Life-Illusion," in "The +Fortnightly Review" (April, 1910). + + + + +V +BY MAURICE BARING + + +Turgenev did for Russian literature what Byron did for English +literature; he led the genius of Russia on a pilgrimage throughout all +Europe. And in Europe his work reaped a glorious harvest of praise. +Flaubert was astounded by him, George Sand looked up to him as to a +master, Taine spoke of his work as being the finest artistic production +since Sophocles. In Turgenev's work, Europe not only discovered +Turgenev, but it discovered Russia, the simplicity and the naturalness +of the Russian character; and this came as a revelation. For the first +time Europe came across the Russian woman whom Pushkin was the first to +paint; for the first time Europe came into contact with the Russian +soul; and it was the sharpness of this revelation which accounts for +the fact of Turgenev having received in the west an even greater meed +of praise than he was perhaps entitled to. + +In Russia Turgenev attained almost instant popularity. His "Sportsman's +Sketches" and his "Nest of Gentlefolk" made him not only famous but +universally popular. In 1862 the publication of his masterpiece +"Fathers and Children" dealt his reputation a blow. The revolutionary +elements in Russia regarded his hero, Bazarov, as a calumny and a +libel; whereas the reactionary elements in Russia looked upon "Fathers +and Children" as a glorification of Nihilism. Thus he satisfied nobody. +He fell between two stools. This, perhaps, could only happen in Russia +to this extent; and for that same reason as that which made Russian +criticism didactic. The conflicting elements of Russian society were so +terribly in earnest in fighting their cause, that anyone whom they did +not regard as definitely for them was at once considered an enemy, and +an impartial delineation of any character concerned in the political +struggle was bound to displease both parties. If a novelist drew a +Nihilist, he must be one or the other, a hero or a scoundrel, if either +the revolutionaries or the reactionaries were to be pleased. If in +England the militant suffragists suddenly had a huge mass of educated +opinion behind them and a still larger mass of educated public opinion +against them, and some one were to draw in a novel an impartial picture +of a suffragette, the same thing would happen. On a small scale, as far +as the suffragettes are concerned, it has happened in the case of Mr. +Wells. But if Turgenev's popularity suffered a shock in Russia from +which it with difficulty recovered, in western Europe it went on +increasing. Especially in England, Turgenev became the idol of all that +was eclectic, and admiration for Turgenev a hallmark of good taste.... + +"Fathers and Children" is as beautifully constructed as a drama of +Sophocles; the events move inevitably to a tragic close. There is not a +touch of banality from beginning to end, and not an unnecessary word; +the portraits of the old father and mother, the young Kirsanov, and all +the minor characters are perfect; and amidst the trivial crowd Bazarov +stands out like Lucifer, the strongest--the only strong character--that +Turgenev created, the first Nihilist--for if Turgenev was not the first +to invent the word, he was the first to apply it in this sense. + +Bazarov is the incarnation of the Lucifer type that recurs again and +again in Russian history and fiction, in sharp contrast to the meek, +humble type of Ivan Durak. Lermontov's Pechorin was in some respects an +anticipation of Bazarov; so were the many Russian rebels. He is the man +who denies, to whom art is a silly toy, who detests abstractions, +knowledge, and the love of Nature; he believes in nothing; he bows to +nothing; he can break, but he cannot bend; he does break, and that is +the tragedy, but, breaking, he retains his invincible pride, and + + "not cowardly puts off his helmet," + +and he dies "valiantly vanquished." + +In the pages which describe his death Turgenev reaches the high-water +mark of his art, his moving quality, his power, his reserve. For manly +pathos they rank among the greatest scenes in literature, stronger than +the death of Colonel Newcome and the best of Thackeray. Among English +novelists it is, perhaps, only Meredith who has struck such strong, +piercing chords, nobler than anything in Daudet or Maupassant, more +reserved than anything in Victor Hugo, and worthy of the great poets, +of the tragic pathos of Goethe and Dante. The character of Bazarov, as +has been said, created a sensation and endless controversy. The +revolutionaries thought him a caricature and a libel, the reactionaries +a scandalous glorification of the Devil; and impartial men such as +Dostoevsky, who knew the revolutionaries at first hand, thought the +type unreal. It is impossible that Bazarov was not like the Nihilists +of the sixties; but in any case as a figure in fiction, whatever the +fact may be, he lives and will continue to live....--From "An Outline +of Russian Literature" (1914). + + + + +LIST OF CHARACTERS + + +NIKOLAI PETROVITCH KIRSANOV, a landowner. + +PAVEL PETROVITCH KIRSANOV, his brother. + +ARKADY (ARKASHA) NIKOLAEVITCH (_or_ NIKOLAITCH), his son. + +YEVGENY (ENYUSHA) VASSILYEVITCH (_or_ VASSILYITCH) BAZAROV, friend of +Arkady. + +VASSILY IVANOVITCH (_or_ IVANITCH), father of Bazarov. + +ARINA VLASYEVNA, mother of Bazarov. + +FEDOSYA (FENITCHKA) NIKOLAEVNA, second wife of Nikolai. + +ANNA SERGYEVNA ODINTSOV, a wealthy widow. + +KATYA SERGYEVNA, her sister. + +PORFIRY PLATONITCH, her neighbor. + +MATVY ILYITCH KOLYAZIN, government commissioner. + +EVDOKSYA (_or_ AVDOTYA) NIKITISHNA KUKSHIN, an emancipated lady. + +VIKTOR SITNIKOV, a would-be liberal. + +PIOTR (_pron. P-yotr_), servant to Nikolai. + +PROKOFITCH, head servant to Nikolai. + +DUNYASHA, a maid servant. + +MITYA, infant of Fedosya. + +TIMOFEITCH, manager for Vassily. + + + + +FATHERS AND CHILDREN +A NOVEL + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +'Well, Piotr, not in sight yet?' was the question asked on May the +20th, 1859, by a gentleman of a little over forty, in a dusty coat and +checked trousers, who came out without his hat on to the low steps of +the posting station at S----. He was addressing his servant, a chubby +young fellow, with whitish down on his chin, and little, lack-lustre +eyes. + +The servant, in whom everything--the turquoise ring in his ear, the +streaky hair plastered with grease, and the civility of his +movements--indicated a man of the new, improved generation, glanced +with an air of indulgence along the road, and made answer: + +'No, sir; not in sight.' + +'Not in sight?' repeated his master. + +'No, sir,' responded the man a second time. + +His master sighed, and sat down on a little bench. We will introduce +him to the reader while he sits, his feet tucked under him, gazing +thoughtfully round. + +His name was Nikolai Petrovitch Kirsanov. He had, twelve miles from the +posting station, a fine property of two hundred souls, or, as he +expressed it--since he had arranged the division of his land with the +peasants, and started 'a farm'--of nearly five thousand acres. His +father, a general in the army, who served in 1812, a coarse, +half-educated, but not ill-natured man, a typical Russian, had been in +harness all his life, first in command of a brigade, and then of a +division, and lived constantly in the provinces, where, by virtue of +his rank, he played a fairly important part. Nikolai Petrovitch was +born in the south of Russia like his elder brother, Pavel, of whom more +hereafter. He was educated at home till he was fourteen, surrounded by +cheap tutors, free-and-easy but toadying adjutants, and all the usual +regimental and staff set. His mother, one of the Kolyazin family, as a +girl called Agathe, but as a general's wife Agathokleya Kuzminishna +Kirsanov, was one of those military ladies who take their full share of +the duties and dignities of office. She wore gorgeous caps and rustling +silk dresses; in church she was the first to advance to the cross; she +talked a great deal in a loud voice, let her children kiss her hand in +the morning, and gave them her blessing at night--in fact, she got +everything out of life she could. Nikolai Petrovitch, as a general's +son--though so far from being distinguished by courage that he even +deserved to be called 'a funk'--was intended, like his brother Pavel, +to enter the army; but he broke his leg on the very day when the news +of his commission came, and, after being two months in bed, retained a +slight limp to the end of his days. His father gave him up as a bad +job, and let him go into the civil service. He took him to Petersburg +directly he was eighteen, and placed him in the university. His brother +happened about the same time to be made an officer in the Guards. The +young men started living together in one set of rooms, under the remote +supervision of a cousin on their mother's side, Ilya Kolyazin, an +official of high rank. Their father returned to his division and his +wife, and only rarely sent his sons large sheets of grey paper, +scrawled over in a bold clerkly hand. At the bottom of these sheets +stood in letters, enclosed carefully in scroll-work, the words, 'Piotr +Kirsanov, General-Major.' In 1835 Nikolai Petrovitch left the +university, a graduate, and in the same year General Kirsanov was put +on to the retired list after an unsuccessful review, and came to +Petersburg with his wife to live. He was about to take a house in the +Tavrichesky Gardens, and had joined the English club, but he died +suddenly of an apoplectic fit. Agathokleya Kuzminishna soon followed +him; she could not accustom herself to a dull life in the capital; she +was consumed by the ennui of existence away from the regiment. +Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch had already, in his parents' lifetime and +to their no slight chagrin, had time to fall in love with the daughter +of his landlord, a petty official, Prepolovensky. She was a pretty and, +as it is called, 'advanced' girl; she used to read the serious articles +in the 'Science' column of the journals. He married her directly the +term of mourning was over; and leaving the civil service in which his +father had by favour procured him a post, was perfectly blissful with +his Masha, first in a country villa near the Lyesny Institute, +afterwards in town in a pretty little flat with a clean staircase and a +draughty drawing-room, and then in the country, where he settled +finally, and where in a short time a son, Arkady, was born to him. The +young couple lived very happily and peacefully; they were scarcely ever +apart; they read together, sang and played duets together on the piano; +she tended her flowers and looked after the poultry-yard; he sometimes +went hunting, and busied himself with the estate, while Arkady grew and +grew in the same happy and peaceful way. Ten years passed like a dream. +In 1847 Kirsanov's wife died. He almost succumbed to this blow; in a +few weeks his hair was grey; he was getting ready to go abroad, if +possible to distract his mind ... but then came the year 1848. He +returned unwillingly to the country, and, after a rather prolonged +period of inactivity, began to take an interest in improvements in the +management of his land. In 1855 he brought his son to the university; +he spent three winters with him in Petersburg, hardly going out +anywhere, and trying to make acquaintance with Arkady's young +companions. The last winter he had not been able to go, and here we +have him in the May of 1859, already quite grey, stoutish, and rather +bent, waiting for his son, who had just taken his degree, as once he +had taken it himself. + +The servant, from a feeling of propriety, and perhaps, too, not anxious +to remain under the master's eye, had gone to the gate, and was smoking +a pipe. Nikolai Petrovitch bent his head, and began staring at the +crumbling steps; a big mottled fowl walked sedately towards him, +treading firmly with its great yellow legs; a muddy cat gave him an +unfriendly look, twisting herself coyly round the railing. The sun was +scorching; from the half-dark passage of the posting station came an +odour of hot rye-bread. Nikolai Petrovitch fell to dreaming. 'My son +... a graduate ... Arkasha ...' were the ideas that continually came +round again and again in his head; he tried to think of something else, +and again the same thoughts returned. He remembered his dead wife.... +'She did not live to see it!' he murmured sadly. A plump, dark-blue +pigeon flew into the road, and hurriedly went to drink in a puddle near +the well. Nikolai Petrovitch began looking at it, but his ear had +already caught the sound of approaching wheels. + +'It sounds as if they're coming sir,' announced the servant, popping in +from the gateway. + +Nikolai Petrovitch jumped up, and bent his eyes on the road. A carriage +appeared with three posting-horses harnessed abreast; in the carriage +he caught a glimpse of the blue band of a student's cap, the familiar +outline of a dear face. + +'Arkasha! Arkasha!' cried Kirsanov, and he ran waving his hands.... A +few instants later, his lips were pressed to the beardless, dusty, +sunburnt-cheek of the youthful graduate. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +'Let me shake myself first, daddy,' said Arkady, in a voice tired from +travelling, but boyish and clear as a bell, as he gaily responded to +his father's caresses; 'I am covering you with dust.' + +'Never mind, never mind,' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, smiling +tenderly, and twice he struck the collar of his son's cloak and his own +greatcoat with his hand. 'Let me have a look at you; let me have a look +at you,' he added, moving back from him, but immediately he went with +hurried steps towards the yard of the station, calling, 'This way, this +way; and horses at once.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch seemed far more excited than his son; he seemed a +little confused, a little timid. Arkady stopped him. + +'Daddy,' he said, 'let me introduce you to my great friend, Bazarov, +about whom I have so often written to you. He has been so good as to +promise to stay with us.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch went back quickly, and going up to a tall man in a +long, loose, rough coat with tassels, who had only just got out of the +carriage, he warmly pressed the ungloved red hand, which the latter did +not at once hold out to him. + +'I am heartily glad,' he began, 'and very grateful for your kind +intention of visiting us.... Let me know your name, and your father's.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyev,' answered Bazarov, in a lazy but manly voice; and +turning back the collar of his rough coat, he showed Nikolai Petrovitch +his whole face. It was long and lean, with a broad forehead, a nose +flat at the base and sharper at the end, large greenish eyes, and +drooping whiskers of a sandy colour; it was lighted up by a tranquil +smile, and showed self-confidence and intelligence. + +'I hope, dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch, you won't be dull with us,' +continued Nikolai Petrovitch. + +Bazarov's thin lips moved just perceptibly, though he made no reply, +but merely took off his cap. His long, thick hair did not hide the +prominent bumps on his head. + +'Then, Arkady,' Nikolai Petrovitch began again, turning to his son, +'shall the horses be put to at once? or would you like to rest?' + +'We will rest at home, daddy; tell them to harness the horses.' + +'At once, at once,' his father assented. 'Hey, Piotr, do you hear? Get +things ready, my good boy; look sharp.' + +Piotr, who as a modernised servant had not kissed the young master's +hand, but only bowed to him from a distance, again vanished through the +gateway. + +'I came here with the carriage, but there are three horses for your +coach too,' said Nikolai Petrovitch fussily, while Arkady drank some +water from an iron dipper brought him by the woman in charge of the +station, and Bazarov began smoking a pipe and went up to the driver, +who was taking out the horses; 'there are only two seats in the +carriage, and I don't know how your friend' ... + +'He will go in the coach,' interposed Arkady in an undertone. 'You must +not stand on ceremony with him, please. He's a splendid fellow, so +simple--you will see.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch's coachman brought the horses round. + +'Come, hurry up, bushy beard!' said Bazarov, addressing the driver. + +'Do you hear, Mityuha,' put in another driver, standing by with his +hands thrust behind him into the opening of his sheepskin coat, 'what +the gentleman called you? It's a bushy beard you are too.' + +Mityuha only gave a jog to his hat and pulled the reins off the heated +shaft-horse. + +'Look sharp, look sharp, lads, lend a hand,' cried Nikolai Petrovitch; +'there'll be something to drink our health with!' + +In a few minutes the horses were harnessed; the father and son were +installed in the carriage; Piotr climbed up on to the box; Bazarov +jumped into the coach, and nestled his head down into the leather +cushion; and both the vehicles rolled away. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +'So here you are, a graduate at last, and come home again,' said +Nikolai Petrovitch, touching Arkady now on the shoulder, now on the +knee. 'At last!' + +'And how is uncle? quite well?' asked Arkady, who, in spite of the +genuine, almost childish delight filling his heart, wanted as soon as +possible to turn the conversation from the emotional into a commonplace +channel. + +'Quite well. He was thinking of coming with me to meet you, but for +some reason or other he gave up the idea.' + +'And how long have you been waiting for me?' inquired Arkady. + +'Oh, about five hours.' + +'Dear old dad!' + +Arkady turned round quickly to his father, and gave him a sounding kiss +on the cheek. Nikolai Petrovitch gave vent to a low chuckle. + +'I have got such a capital horse for you!' he began. 'You will see. And +your room has been fresh papered.' + +'And is there a room for Bazarov?' + +'We will find one for him too.' + +'Please, dad, make much of him. I can't tell you how I prize his +friendship.' + +'Have you made friends with him lately?' + +'Yes, quite lately.' + +'Ah, that's how it is I did not see him last winter. What does he +study?' + +'His chief subject is natural science. But he knows everything. Next +year he wants to take his doctor's degree.' + +'Ah! he's in the medical faculty,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, and he +was silent for a little. 'Piotr,' he went on, stretching out his hand, +'aren't those our peasants driving along?' + +Piotr looked where his master was pointing. Some carts harnessed with +unbridled horses were moving rapidly along a narrow by-road. In each +cart there were one or two peasants in sheepskin coats, unbuttoned. + +'Yes, sir,' replied Piotr. + +'Where are they going,--to the town?' + +'To the town, I suppose. To the gin-shop,' he added contemptuously, +turning slightly towards the coachman, as though he would appeal to +him. But the latter did not stir a muscle; he was a man of the old +stamp, and did not share the modern views of the younger generation. + +'I have had a lot of bother with the peasants this year,' pursued +Nikolai Petrovitch, turning to his son. 'They won't pay their rent. +What is one to do?' + +'But do you like your hired labourers?' + +'Yes,' said Nikolai Petrovitch between his teeth. 'They're being set +against me, that's the mischief; and they don't do their best. They +spoil the tools. But they have tilled the land pretty fairly. When +things have settled down a bit, it will be all right. Do you take an +interest in farming now?' + +'You've no shade; that's a pity,' remarked Arkady, without answering +the last question. + +'I have had a great awning put up on the north side over the balcony,' +observed Nikolai Petrovitch; 'now we can have dinner even in the open +air.' + +'It'll be rather too like a summer villa.... Still, that's all +nonsense. What air though here! How delicious it smells! Really I fancy +there's nowhere such fragrance in the world as in the meadows here! And +the sky too.' + +Arkady suddenly stopped short, cast a stealthy look behind him, and +said no more. + +'Of course,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'you were born here, and so +everything is bound to strike you in a special----' + +'Come, dad, that makes no difference where a man is born.' + +'Still----' + +'No; it makes absolutely no difference.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch gave a sidelong glance at his son, and the carriage +went on a half-a-mile further before the conversation was renewed +between them. + +'I don't recollect whether I wrote to you,' began Nikolai Petrovitch, +'your old nurse, Yegorovna, is dead.' + +'Really? Poor thing! Is Prokofitch still living?' + +'Yes, and not a bit changed. As grumbling as ever. In fact, you won't +find many changes at Maryino.' + +'Have you still the same bailiff?' + +'Well, to be sure there is a change there. I decided not to keep about +me any freed serfs, who have been house servants, or, at least, not to +intrust them with duties of any responsibility.' (Arkady glanced +towards Piotr.) '_Il est libre, en effet_,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch +in an undertone; 'but, you see, he's only a valet. Now I have a +bailiff, a townsman; he seems a practical fellow. I pay him two hundred +and fifty roubles a year. But,' added Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing his +forehead and eyebrows with his hand, which was always an indication +with him of inward embarrassment, 'I told you just now that you would +not find changes at Maryino.... That's not quite correct. I think it my +duty to prepare you, though....' + +He hesitated for an instant, and then went on in French. + +'A severe moralist would regard my openness, as improper; but, in the +first place, it can't be concealed, and secondly, you are aware I have +always had peculiar ideas as regards the relation of father and son. +Though, of course, you would be right in blaming me. At my age.... In +short ... that ... that girl, about whom you have probably heard +already ...' + +'Fenitchka?' asked Arkady easily. + +Nikolai Petrovitch blushed. 'Don't mention her name aloud, please.... +Well ... she is living with me now. I have installed her in the house +... there were two little rooms there. But that can all be changed.' + +'Goodness, daddy, what for?' + +'Your friend is going to stay with us ... it would be awkward ...' + +'Please don't be uneasy on Bazarov's account. He's above all that.' + +'Well, but you too,' added Nikolai Petrovitch. 'The little lodge is so +horrid--that's the worst of it.' + +'Goodness, dad,' interposed Arkady, 'it's as if you were apologising; I +wonder you're not ashamed.' + +'Of course, I ought to be ashamed,' answered Nikolai Petrovitch, +flushing more and more. + +'Nonsense, dad, nonsense; please don't!' Arkady smiled affectionately. +'What a thing to apologise for!' he thought to himself, and his heart +was filled with a feeling of condescending tenderness for his kind, +soft-hearted father, mixed with a sense of secret superiority. 'Please, +stop,' he repeated once more, instinctively revelling in a +consciousness of his own advanced and emancipated condition. + +Nikolai Petrovitch glanced at him from under the fingers of the hand +with which he was still rubbing his forehead, and there was a pang in +his heart.... But at once he blamed himself for it. + +'Here are our meadows at last,' he said after a long silence. + +'And that in front is our forest, isn't it?' asked Arkady. + +'Yes. Only I have sold the timber. This year they will cut it down.' + +'Why did you sell it?' + +'The money was needed; besides, that land is to go to the peasants.' + +'Who don't pay you their rent?' + +'That's their affair; besides, they will pay it some day.' + +'I am sorry about the forest,' observed Arkady, and he began to look +about him. + +The country through which they were driving could not be called +picturesque. Fields upon fields stretched all along to the very +horizon, now sloping gently upwards, then dropping down again; in some +places woods were to be seen, and winding ravines, planted with low, +scanty bushes, recalling vividly the representation of them on the +old-fashioned maps of the times of Catherine. They came upon little +streams too with hollow banks; and tiny lakes with narrow dykes; and +little villages, with low hovels under dark and often tumble-down +roofs, and slanting barns with walls woven of brushwood and gaping +doorways beside neglected threshing-floors; and churches, some +brick-built, with stucco peeling off in patches, others wooden, with +crosses fallen askew, and overgrown grave-yards. Slowly Arkady's heart +sunk. To complete the picture, the peasants they met were all in +tatters and on the sorriest little nags; the willows, with their trunks +stripped of bark, and broken branches, stood like ragged beggars along +the roadside; cows lean and shaggy and looking pinched up by hunger, +were greedily tearing at the grass along the ditches. They looked as +though they had just been snatched out of the murderous clutches of +some threatening monster; and the piteous state of the weak, starved +beasts in the midst of the lovely spring day, called up, like a white +phantom, the endless, comfortless winter with its storms, and frosts, +and snows.... 'No,' thought Arkady, 'this is not a rich country; it +does not impress one by plenty or industry; it can't, it can't go on +like this, reforms are absolutely necessary ... but how is one to carry +them out, how is one to begin?' + +Such were Arkady's reflections; ... but even as he reflected, the +spring regained its sway. All around was golden green, all--trees, +bushes, grass--shone and stirred gently in wide waves under the soft +breath of the warm wind; from all sides flooded the endless trilling +music of the larks; the peewits were calling as they hovered over the +low-lying meadows, or noiselessly ran over the tussocks of grass; the +rooks strutted among the half-grown short spring-corn, standing out +black against its tender green; they disappeared in the already +whitening rye, only from time to time their heads peeped out amid its +grey waves. Arkady gazed and gazed, and his reflections grew slowly +fainter and passed away.... He flung off his cloak and turned to his +father, with a face so bright and boyish, that the latter gave him +another hug. + +'We're not far off now,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'we have only to +get up this hill, and the house will be in sight. We shall get on +together splendidly, Arkasha; you shall help me in farming the estate, +if only it isn't a bore to you. We must draw close to one another now, +and learn to know each other thoroughly, mustn't we!' + +'Of course,' said Arkady; 'but what an exquisite day it is to-day!' + +'To welcome you, my dear boy. Yes, it's spring in its full loveliness. +Though I agree with Pushkin--do you remember in Yevgeny Onyegin-- + + 'To me how sad thy coming is, + Spring, spring, sweet time of love! + What ...' + +'Arkady!' called Bazarov's voice from the coach, 'send me a match; I've +nothing to light my pipe with.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch stopped, while Arkady, who had begun listening to +him with some surprise, though with sympathy too, made haste to pull a +silver matchbox out of his pocket, and sent it to Bazarov by Piotr. + +'Will you have a cigar?' shouted Bazarov again. + +'Thanks,' answered Arkady. + +Piotr returned to the carriage, and handed him with the match-box a +thick black cigar, which Arkady began to smoke promptly, diffusing +about him such a strong and pungent odour of cheap tobacco, that +Nikolai Petrovitch, who had never been a smoker from his youth up, was +forced to turn away his head, as imperceptibly as he could for fear of +wounding his son. + +A quarter of an hour later, the two carriages drew up before the steps +of a new wooden house, painted grey, with a red iron roof. This was +Maryino, also known as New-Wick, or, as the peasants had nicknamed it, +Poverty Farm. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +No crowd of house-serfs ran out on to the steps to meet the gentlemen; +a little girl of twelve years old made her appearance alone. After her +there came out of the house a young lad, very like Piotr, dressed in a +coat of grey livery, with white armorial buttons, the servant of Pavel +Petrovitch Kirsanov. Without speaking, he opened the door of the +carriage, and unbuttoned the apron of the coach. Nikolai Petrovitch +with his son and Bazarov walked through a dark and almost empty hall, +from behind the door of which they caught a glimpse of a young woman's +face, into a drawing-room furnished in the most modern style. + +'Here we are at home,' said Nikolai Petrovitch, taking off his cap, and +shaking back his hair. 'That's the great thing; now we must have supper +and rest.' + +'A meal would not come amiss, certainly,' observed Bazarov, stretching, +and he dropped on to a sofa. + +'Yes, yes, let us have supper, supper directly.' Nikolai Petrovitch +with no apparent reason stamped his foot. 'And here just at the right +moment comes Prokofitch.' + +A man about sixty entered, white-haired, thin, and swarthy, in a +cinnamon-coloured dress-coat with brass buttons, and a pink +neckerchief. He smirked, went up to kiss Arkady's hand, and bowing to +the guest retreated to the door, and put his hands behind him. + +'Here he is, Prokofitch,' began Nikolai Petrovitch; 'he's come back to +us at last.... Well, how do you think him looking?' + +'As well as could be,' said the old man, and was grinning again, but he +quickly knitted his bushy brows. 'You wish supper to be served?' he +said impressively. + +'Yes, yes, please. But won't you like to go to your room first, Yevgeny +Vassilyitch?' + +'No, thanks; I don't care about it. Only give orders for my little box +to be taken there, and this garment, too,' he added, taking off his +frieze overcoat. + +'Certainly. Prokofitch, take the gentleman's coat.' (Prokofitch, with +an air of perplexity, picked up Bazarov's 'garment' in both hands, and +holding it high above his head, retreated on tiptoe.) 'And you, Arkady, +are you going to your room for a minute?' + +'Yes, I must wash,' answered Arkady, and was just moving towards the +door, but at that instant there came into the drawing-room a man of +medium height, dressed in a dark English suit, a fashionable low +cravat, and kid shoes, Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov. He looked about +forty-five: his close-cropped, grey hair shone with a dark lustre, like +new silver; his face, yellow but free from wrinkles, was exceptionally +regular and pure in line, as though carved by a light and delicate +chisel, and showed traces of remarkable beauty; specially fine were his +clear, black, almond-shaped eyes. The whole person of Arkady's uncle, +with its aristocratic elegance, had preserved the gracefulness of youth +and that air of striving upwards, away from earth, which for the most +part is lost after the twenties are past. + +Pavel Petrovitch took out of his trouser pocket his exquisite hand with +its long tapering pink nails, a hand which seemed still more exquisite +from the snowy whiteness of the cuff, buttoned with a single, big opal, +and gave it to his nephew. After a preliminary handshake in the +European style, he kissed him thrice after the Russian fashion, that is +to say, he touched his cheek three times with his perfumed moustaches, +and said, 'Welcome.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch presented him to Bazarov; Pavel Petrovitch greeted +him with a slight inclination of his supple figure, and a slight smile, +but he did not give him his hand, and even put it back into his pocket. + +'I had begun to think you were not coming to-day,' he began in a +musical voice, with a genial swing and shrug of the shoulders, as he +showed his splendid white teeth. 'Did anything happen on the road.' + +'Nothing happened,' answered Arkady; 'we were rather slow. But we're as +hungry as wolves now. Hurry up Prokofitch, dad; and I'll be back +directly.' + +'Stay, I'm coming with you,' cried Bazarov, pulling himself up suddenly +from the sofa. Both the young men went out. + +'Who is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'A friend of Arkasha's; according to him, a very clever fellow.' + +'Is he going to stay with us?' + +'Yes.' + +'That unkempt creature?' + +'Why, yes.' + +Pavel Petrovitch drummed with his finger tips on the table. 'I fancy +Arkady _s'est degourdi_,' he remarked. 'I'm glad he has come back.' + +At supper there was little conversation. Bazarov especially said +nothing, but he ate a great deal. Nikolai Petrovitch related various +incidents in what he called his career as a farmer, talked about the +impending government measures, about committees, deputations, the +necessity of introducing machinery, etc. Pavel Petrovitch paced slowly +up and down the dining-room (he never ate supper), sometimes sipping at +a wineglass of red wine, and less often uttering some remark or rather +exclamation, of the nature of 'Ah! aha! hm!' Arkady told some news from +Petersburg, but he was conscious of a little awkwardness, that +awkwardness, which usually overtakes a youth when he has just ceased to +be a child, and has come back to a place where they are accustomed to +regard him and treat him as a child. He made his sentences quite +unnecessarily long, avoided the word 'daddy,' and even sometimes +replaced it by the word 'father,' mumbled, it is true, between his +teeth; with an exaggerated carelessness he poured into his glass far +more wine than he really wanted, and drank it all off. Prokofitch did +not take his eyes off him, and kept chewing his lips. After supper they +all separated at once. + +'Your uncle's a queer fish,' Bazarov said to Arkady, as he sat in his +dressing-gown by his bedside, smoking a short pipe. 'Only fancy such +style in the country! His nails, his nails--you ought to send them to +an exhibition!' + +'Why of course, you don't know,' replied Arkady. 'He was a great swell +in his own day, you know. I will tell you his story one day. He was +very handsome, you know, used to turn all the women's heads.' + +'Oh, that's it, is it? So he keeps it up in memory of the past. It's a +pity there's no one for him to fascinate here though. I kept staring at +his exquisite collars. They're like marble, and his chin's shaved +simply to perfection. Come, Arkady Nikolaitch, isn't that ridiculous?' + +'Perhaps it is; but he's a splendid man, really.' + +'An antique survival! But your father's a capital fellow. He wastes his +time reading poetry, and doesn't know much about farming, but he's a +good-hearted fellow.' + +'My father's a man in a thousand.' + +'Did you notice how shy and nervous he is?' + +Arkady shook his head as though he himself were not shy and nervous. + +'It's something astonishing,' pursued Bazarov, 'these old idealists, +they develop their nervous systems till they break down ... so balance +is lost. But good-night. In my room there's an English washstand, but +the door won't fasten. Anyway that ought to be encouraged--an English +washstand stands for progress!' + +Bazarov went away, and a sense of great happiness came over Arkady. +Sweet it is to fall asleep in one's own home, in the familiar bed, +under the quilt worked by loving hands, perhaps a dear nurse's hands, +those kind, tender, untiring hands. Arkady remembered Yegorovna, and +sighed and wished her peace in heaven.... For himself he made no +prayer. + +Both he and Bazarov were soon asleep, but others in the house were +awake long after. His son's return had agitated Nikolai Petrovitch. He +lay down in bed, but did not put out the candles, and his head propped +on his hand, he fell into long reveries. His brother was sitting long +after midnight in his study, in a wide armchair before the fireplace, +on which there smouldered some faintly glowing embers. Pavel Petrovitch +was not undressed, only some red Chinese slippers had replaced the kid +shoes on his feet. He held in his hand the last number of _Galignani_, +but he was not reading; he gazed fixedly into the grate, where a bluish +flame flickered, dying down, then flaring up again.... God knows where +his thoughts were rambling, but they were not rambling in the past +only; the expression of his face was concentrated and surly, which is +not the way when a man is absorbed solely in recollections. In a small +back room there sat, on a large chest, a young woman in a blue dressing +jacket with a white kerchief thrown over her dark hair, Fenitchka. She +was half listening, half dozing, and often looked across towards the +open door through which a child's cradle was visible, and the regular +breathing of a sleeping baby could be heard. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +The next morning Bazarov woke up earlier than any one and went out of +the house. 'Oh, my!' he thought, looking about him, 'the little place +isn't much to boast of!' When Nikolai Petrovitch had divided the land +with his peasants, he had had to build his new manor-house on four +acres of perfectly flat and barren land. He had built a house, offices, +and farm buildings, laid out a garden, dug a pond, and sunk two wells; +but the young trees had not done well, very little water had collected +in the pond, and that in the wells tasted brackish. Only one arbour of +lilac and acacia had grown fairly well; they sometimes had tea and +dinner in it. In a few minutes Bazarov had traversed all the little +paths of the garden; he went into the cattle-yard and the stable, +routed out two farm-boys, with whom he made friends at once, and set +off with them to a small swamp about a mile from the house to look for +frogs. + +'What do you want frogs for, sir?' one of the boys asked him. + +'I'll tell you what for,' answered Bazarov, who possessed the special +faculty of inspiring confidence in people of a lower class, though he +never tried to win them, and behaved very casually with them; 'I shall +cut the frog open, and see what's going on in his inside, and then, as +you and I are much the same as frogs, only that we walk on legs, I +shall know what's going on inside us too.' + +'And what do you want to know that for?' + +'So as not to make a mistake, if you're taken ill, and I have to cure +you.' + +'Are you a doctor then?' + +'Yes.' + +'Vaska, do you hear, the gentleman says you and I are the same as +frogs, that's funny!' + +'I'm afraid of frogs,' observed Vaska, a boy of seven, with a head as +white as flax, and bare feet, dressed in a grey smock with a stand-up +collar. + +'What is there to be afraid of? Do they bite?' + +'There, paddle into the water, philosophers,' said Bazarov. + +Meanwhile Nikolai Petrovitch too had waked up, and gone in to see +Arkady, whom he found dressed. The father and son went out on to the +terrace under the shelter of the awning; near the balustrade, on the +table, among great bunches of lilacs, the samovar was already boiling. +A little girl came up, the same who had been the first to meet them at +the steps on their arrival the evening before. In a shrill voice she +said-- + +'Fedosya Nikolaevna is not quite well, she cannot come; she gave orders +to ask you, will you please to pour out tea yourself, or should she +send Dunyasha?' + +'I will pour out myself, myself,' interposed Nikolai Petrovitch +hurriedly. 'Arkady, how do you take your tea, with cream, or with +lemon?' + +'With cream,' answered Arkady; and after a brief silence, he uttered +interrogatively, 'Daddy?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch in confusion looked at his son. + +'Well?' he said. + +Arkady dropped his eyes. + +'Forgive me, dad, if my question seems unsuitable to you,' he began, +'but you yourself, by your openness yesterday, encourage me to be open +... you will not be angry ...?' + +'Go on.' + +'You give me confidence to ask you.... Isn't the reason, Fen ... isn't +the reason she will not come here to pour out tea, because I'm here?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch turned slightly away. + +'Perhaps,' he said, at last, 'she supposes ... she is ashamed.' + +Arkady turned a rapid glance on his father. + +'She has no need to be ashamed. In the first place, you are aware of my +views' (it was very sweet to Arkady to utter that word); 'and secondly, +could I be willing to hamper your life, your habits in the least thing? +Besides, I am sure you could not make a bad choice; if you have allowed +her to live under the same roof with you, she must be worthy of it; in +any case, a son cannot judge his father,--least of all, I, and least of +all such a father who, like you, has never hampered my liberty in +anything.' + +Arkady's voice had been shaky at the beginning; he felt himself +magnanimous, though at the same time he realised he was delivering +something of the nature of a lecture to his father; but the sound of +one's own voice has a powerful effect on any man, and Arkady brought +out his last words resolutely, even with emphasis. + +'Thanks, Arkasha,' said Nikolai Petrovitch thickly, and his fingers +again strayed over his eyebrows and forehead. 'Your suppositions are +just in fact. Of course, if this girl had not deserved.... It is not a +frivolous caprice. It's not easy for me to talk to you about this; but +you will understand that it is difficult for her to come here, in your +presence, especially the first day of your return.' + +'In that case I will go to her,' cried Arkady, with a fresh rush of +magnanimous feeling, and he jumped up from his seat. 'I will explain to +her that she has no need to be ashamed before me.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch too got up. + +'Arkady,' he began, 'be so good ... how can ... there ... I have not +told you yet ...' + +But Arkady did not listen to him, and ran off the terrace. Nikolai +Petrovitch looked after him, and sank into his chair overcome by +confusion. His heart began to throb. Did he at that moment realise the +inevitable strangeness of the future relations between him and his son? +Was he conscious that Arkady would perhaps have shown him more respect +if he had never touched on this subject at all? Did he reproach himself +for weakness?--it is hard to say; all these feelings were within him, +but in the state of sensations--and vague sensations--while the flush +did not leave his face, and his heart throbbed. + +There was the sound of hurrying footsteps, and Arkady came on to the +terrace. 'We have made friends, dad!' he cried, with an expression of a +kind of affectionate and good-natured triumph on his face. 'Fedosya +Nikolaevna is not quite well to-day really, and she will come a little +later. But why didn't you tell me I had a brother? I should have kissed +him last night, as I have kissed him just now.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch tried to articulate something, tried to get up and +open his arms. Arkady flung himself on his neck. + +'What's this? embracing again?' sounded the voice of Pavel Petrovitch +behind them. + +Father and son were equally rejoiced at his appearance at that instant; +there are positions, genuinely affecting, from which one longs to +escape as soon as possible. + +'Why should you be surprised at that?' said Nikolai Petrovitch gaily. +'Think what ages I have been waiting for Arkasha. I've not had time to +get a good look at him since yesterday.' + +'I'm not at all surprised,' observed Pavel Petrovitch; 'I feel not +indisposed to be embracing him myself.' + +Arkady went up to his uncle, and again felt his cheeks caressed by his +perfumed moustache. Pavel Petrovitch sat down to the table. He wore an +elegant morning suit in the English style, and a gay little fez on his +head. This fez and the carelessly tied little cravat carried a +suggestion of the freedom of country life, but the stiff collars of his +shirt--not white, it is true, but striped, as is correct in morning +dress--stood up as inexorably as ever against his well-shaved chin. + +'Where's your new friend?' he asked Arkady. + +'He's not in the house; he usually gets up early and goes off +somewhere. The great thing is, we mustn't pay any attention to him; he +doesn't like ceremony.' + +'Yes, that's obvious.' Pavel Petrovitch began deliberately spreading +butter on his bread. 'Is he going to stay long with us?' + +'Perhaps. He came here on the way to his father's.' + +'And where does his father live?' + +'In our province, sixty-four miles from here. He has a small property +there. He was formerly an army doctor.' + +'Tut, tut, tut! To be sure, I kept asking myself, "Where have I heard +that name, Bazarov?" Nikolai, do you remember, in our father's division +there was a surgeon Bazarov?' + +'I believe there was.' + +'Yes, yes, to be sure. So that surgeon was his father. Hm!' Pavel +Petrovitch pulled his moustaches. 'Well, and what is Mr. Bazarov +himself?' he asked, deliberately. + +'What is Bazarov?' Arkady smiled. 'Would you like me, uncle, to tell +you what he really is?' + +'If you will be so good, nephew.' + +'He's a nihilist.' + +'Eh?' inquired Nikolai Petrovitch, while Pavel Petrovitch lilted a +knife in the air with a small piece of butter on its tip, and remained +motionless. + +'He's a nihilist,' repeated Arkady. + +'A nihilist,' said Nikolai Petrovitch. 'That's from the Latin, _nihil_, +_nothing_, as far as I can judge; the word must mean a man who ... who +accepts nothing?' + +'Say, "who respects nothing,"' put in Pavel Petrovitch, and he set to +work on the butter again. + +'Who regards everything from the critical point of view,' observed +Arkady. + +'Isn't that just the same thing?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch. + +'No, it's not the same thing. A nihilist is a man who does not bow down +before any authority, who does not take any principle on faith, +whatever reverence that principle may be enshrined in.' + +'Well, and is that good?' interrupted Pavel Petrovitch. + +'That depends, uncle. Some people it will do good to, but some people +will suffer for it.' + +'Indeed. Well, I see it's not in our line. We are old-fashioned people; +we imagine that without principles, taken as you say on faith, there's +no taking a step, no breathing. _Vous avez change tout cela_. God give +you good health and the rank of a general, while we will be content to +look on and admire, worthy ... what was it?' + +'Nihilists,' Arkady said, speaking very distinctly. + +'Yes. There used to be Hegelists, and now there are nihilists. We shall +see how you will exist in void, in vacuum; and now ring, please, +brother Nikolai Petrovitch; it's time I had my cocoa.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch rang the bell and called, 'Dunyasha!' But instead of +Dunyasha, Fenitchka herself came on to the terrace. She was a young +woman about three-and-twenty, with a white soft skin, dark hair and +eyes, red, childishly-pouting lips, and little delicate hands. She wore +a neat print dress; a new blue kerchief lay lightly on her plump +shoulders. She carried a large cup of cocoa, and setting it down before +Pavel Petrovitch, she was overwhelmed with confusion: the hot blood +rushed in a wave of crimson over the delicate skin of her pretty face. +She dropped her eyes, and stood at the table, leaning a little on the +very tips of her fingers. It seemed as though she were ashamed of +having come in, and at the same time felt that she had a right to come. + +Pavel Petrovitch knitted his brows severely, while Nikolai Petrovitch +looked embarrassed. + +'Good morning, Fenitchka,' he muttered through his teeth. + +'Good morning,' she replied in a voice not loud but resonant, and with +a sidelong glance at Arkady, who gave her a friendly smile, she went +gently away. She walked with a slightly rolling gait, but even that +suited her. + +For some minutes silence reigned on the terrace. Pavel Petrovitch +sipped his cocoa; suddenly he raised his head. 'Here is Sir Nihilist +coming towards us,' he said in an undertone. + +Bazarov was in fact approaching through the garden, stepping over the +flower-beds. His linen coat and trousers were besmeared with mud; +clinging marsh weed was twined round the crown of his old round hat; in +his right hand he held a small bag; in the bag something alive was +moving. He quickly drew near the terrace, and said with a nod, 'Good +morning, gentlemen; sorry I was late for tea; I'll be back directly; I +must just put these captives away.' + +'What have you there--leeches?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'No, frogs.' + +'Do you eat them--or keep them?' + +'For experiment,' said Bazarov indifferently, and he went off into the +house. + +'So he's going to cut them up,' observed Pavel Petrovitch. 'He has no +faith in principles, but he has faith in frogs.' + +Arkady looked compassionately at his uncle; Nikolai Petrovitch shrugged +his shoulders stealthily. Pavel Petrovitch himself felt that his +epigram was unsuccessful, and began to talk about husbandry and the new +bailiff, who had come to him the evening before to complain that a +labourer, Foma, 'was deboshed,' and quite unmanageable. 'He's such an +Aesop,' he said among other things; 'in all places he has protested +himself a worthless fellow; he's not a man to keep his place; he'll +walk off in a huff like a fool.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Bazarov came back, sat down to the table, and began hastily drinking +tea. The two brothers looked at him in silence, while Arkady stealthily +watched first his father and then his uncle. + +'Did you walk far from here?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked at last. + +'Where you've a little swamp near the aspen wood. I started some +half-dozen snipe; you might slaughter them; Arkady.' + +'Aren't you a sportsman then?' + +'No.' + +'Is your special study physics?' Pavel Petrovitch in his turn inquired. + +'Physics, yes; and natural science in general.' + +'They say the Teutons of late have had great success in that line.' + +'Yes; the Germans are our teachers in it,' Bazarov answered carelessly. + +The word Teutons instead of Germans, Pavel Petrovitch had used with +ironical intention; none noticed it however. + +'Have you such a high opinion of the Germans?' said Pavel Petrovitch, +with exaggerated courtesy. He was beginning to feel a secret +irritation. His aristocratic nature was revolted by Bazarov's absolute +nonchalance. This surgeon's son was not only not overawed, he even gave +abrupt and indifferent answers, and in the tone of his voice there was +something churlish, almost insolent. + +'The scientific men there are a clever lot.' + +'Ah, ah. To be sure, of Russian scientific men you have not such a +flattering opinion, I dare say?' + +'That is very likely.' + +'That's very praiseworthy self-abnegation,' Pavel Petrovitch declared, +drawing himself up, and throwing his head back. 'But how is this? +Arkady Nikolaitch was telling us just now that you accept no +authorities? Don't you believe in _them_?' + +'And how am I accepting them? And what am I to believe in? They tell me +the truth, I agree, that's all.' + +'And do all Germans tell the truth?' said Pavel Petrovitch, and his +face assumed an expression as unsympathetic, as remote, as if he had +withdrawn to some cloudy height. + +'Not all,' replied Bazarov, with a short yawn. He obviously did not +care to continue the discussion. + +Pavel Petrovitch glanced at Arkady, as though he would say to him, +'Your friend's polite, I must say.' 'For my own part,' he began again, +not without some effort, 'I am so unregenerate as not to like Germans. +Russian Germans I am not speaking of now; we all know what sort of +creatures they are. But even German Germans are not to my liking. In +former days there were some here and there; they had--well, Schiller, +to be sure, Goethe ... my brother--he takes a particularly favourable +view of them.... But now they have all turned chemists and materialists +...' + +'A good chemist is twenty times as useful as any poet,' broke in +Bazarov. + +'Oh, indeed,' commented Pavel Petrovitch, and, as though falling +asleep, he faintly raised his eyebrows. 'You don't acknowledge art +then, I suppose?' + +'The art of making money or of advertising pills!' cried Bazarov, with +a contemptuous laugh. + +'Ah, ah. You are pleased to jest, I see. You reject all that, no doubt? +Granted. Then you believe in science only?' + +'I have already explained to you that I don't believe in anything; and +what is science--science in the abstract? There are sciences, as there +are trades and crafts; but abstract science doesn't exist at all.' + +'Very good. Well, and in regard to the other traditions accepted in +human conduct, do you maintain the same negative attitude?' + +'What's this, an examination?' asked Bazarov. + +Pavel Petrovitch turned slightly pale.... Nikolai Petrovitch thought it +his duty to interpose in the conversation. + +'We will converse on this subject with you more in detail some day, +dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch; we will hear your views, and express our own. +For my part, I am heartily glad you are studying the natural sciences. +I have heard that Liebig has made some wonderful discoveries in the +amelioration of soils. You can be of assistance to me in my +agricultural labours; you can give me some useful advice.' + +'I am at your service, Nikolai Petrovitch; but Liebig's miles over our +heads! One has first to learn the a b c, and then begin to read, and we +haven't set eyes on the alphabet yet.' + +'You are certainly a nihilist, I see that,' thought Nikolai Petrovitch. +'Still, you will allow me to apply to you on occasion,' he added aloud. +'And now I fancy, brother, it's time for us to be going to have a talk +with the bailiff.' + +Pavel Petrovitch got up from his seat. + +'Yes,' he said, without looking at any one; 'it's a misfortune to live +five years in the country like this, far from mighty intellects! You +turn into a fool directly. You may try not to forget what you've been +taught, but--in a snap!--they'll prove all that's rubbish, and tell you +that sensible men have nothing more to do with such foolishness, and +that you, if you please, are an antiquated old fogey. What's to be +done? Young people, of course, are cleverer than we are!' + +Pavel Petrovitch turned slowly on his heels, and slowly walked away; +Nikolai Petrovitch went after him. + +'Is he always like that?' Bazarov coolly inquired of Arkady directly +the door had closed behind the two brothers. + +'I must say, Yevgeny, you weren't nice to him,' remarked Arkady. 'You +have hurt his feelings.' + +'Well, am I going to consider them, these provincial aristocrats! Why, +it's all vanity, dandy habits, fatuity. He should have continued his +career in Petersburg, if that's his bent. But there, enough of him! +I've found a rather rare species of a water-beetle, _Dytiscus +marginatus_; do you know it? I will show you.' + +'I promised to tell you his story,' began Arkady. + +'The story of the beetle?' + +'Come, don't, Yevgeny. The story of my uncle. You will see he's not the +sort of man you fancy. He deserves pity rather than ridicule.' + +'I don't dispute it; but why are you worrying over him?' + +'One ought to be just, Yevgeny.' + +'How does that follow?' + +'No; listen ...' + +And Arkady told him his uncle's story. The reader will find it in the +following chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Pavel Petrovitch Kirsanov was educated first at home, like his younger +brother, and afterwards in the Corps of Pages. From childhood he was +distinguished by remarkable beauty; moreover he was self-confident, +somewhat ironical, and had a rather biting humour; he could not fail to +please. He began to be seen everywhere, directly he had received his +commission as an officer. He was much admired in society, and he +indulged every whim, even every caprice and every folly, and gave +himself airs, but that too was attractive in him. Women went out of +their senses over him; men called him a coxcomb, and were secretly +jealous of him. He lived, as has been related already, in the same +apartments as his brother, whom he loved sincerely, though he was not +at all like him. Nikolai Petrovitch was a little lame, he had small, +pleasing features of a rather melancholy cast, small, black eyes, and +thin, soft hair; he liked being lazy, but he also liked reading, and +was timid in society. + +Pavel Petrovitch did not spend a single evening at home, prided himself +on his ease and audacity (he was just bringing gymnastics into fashion +among young men in society), and had read in all some five or six +French books. At twenty-eight he was already a captain; a brilliant +career awaited him. Suddenly everything was changed. + +At that time, there was sometimes seen in Petersburg society a woman +who has even yet not been forgotten. Princess R----. She had a +well-educated, well-bred, but rather stupid husband, and no children. +She used suddenly to go abroad, and suddenly return to Russia, and led +an eccentric life in general. She had the reputation of being a +frivolous coquette, abandoned herself eagerly to every sort of +pleasure, danced to exhaustion, laughed and jested with young men, whom +she received in the dim light of her drawing-room before dinner; while +at night she wept and prayed, found no peace in anything, and often +paced her room till morning, wringing her hands in anguish, or sat, +pale and chill, over a psalter. Day came, and she was transformed again +into a grand lady; again she went out, laughed, chattered, and simply +flung herself headlong into anything which could afford her the +slightest distraction. She was marvellously well-proportioned, her hair +coloured like gold and heavy as gold hung below her knees, but no one +would have called her a beauty; in her whole face the only good point +was her eyes, and even her eyes were not good--they were grey, and not +large--but their glance was swift and deep, unconcerned to the point of +audacity, and thoughtful to the point of melancholy--an enigmatic +glance. There was a light of something extraordinary in them, even +while her tongue was lisping the emptiest of inanities. She dressed +with elaborate care. Pavel Petrovitch met her at a ball, danced a +mazurka with her, in the course of which she did not utter a single +rational word, and fell passionately in love with her. Being accustomed +to make conquests, in this instance, too, he soon attained his object, +but his easy success did not damp his ardour. On the contrary, he was +in still more torturing, still closer bondage to this woman, in whom, +even at the very moment when she surrendered herself utterly, there +seemed always something still mysterious and unattainable, to which +none could penetrate. What was hidden in that soul--God knows! It +seemed as though she were in the power of mysterious forces, +incomprehensible even to herself; they seemed to play on her at will; +her intellect was not powerful enough to master their caprices. Her +whole behaviour presented a series of inconsistencies; the only letters +which could have awakened her husband's just suspicions, she wrote to a +man who was almost a stranger to her, whilst her love had always an +element of melancholy; with a man she had chosen as a lover, she ceased +to laugh and to jest, she listened to him, and gazed at him with a look +of bewilderment. Sometimes, for the most part suddenly, this +bewilderment passed into chill horror; her face took a wild, death-like +expression; she locked herself up in her bedroom, and her maid, putting +her ear to the keyhole, could hear her smothered sobs. More than once, +as he went home after a tender interview, Kirsanov felt within him that +heartrending, bitter vexation which follows on a total failure. + +'What more do I want?' he asked himself, while his heart was heavy. He +once gave her a ring with a sphinx engraved on the stone. + +'What's that?' she asked; 'a sphinx?' + +'Yes,' he answered, 'and that sphinx is you.' + +'I?' she queried, and slowly raising her enigmatical glance upon him. +'Do you know that's awfully flattering?' she added with a meaningless +smile, while her eyes still kept the same strange look. + +Pavel Petrovitch suffered even while Princess R---- loved him; but when +she grew cold to him, and that happened rather quickly, he almost went +out of his mind. He was on the rack, and he was jealous; he gave her no +peace, followed her about everywhere; she grew sick of his pursuit of +her, and she went abroad. He resigned his commission in spite of the +entreaties of his friends and the exhortations of his superiors, and +followed the princess; four years he spent in foreign countries, at one +time pursuing her, at another time intentionally losing sight of her. +He was ashamed of himself, he was disgusted with his own lack of spirit +... but nothing availed. Her image, that incomprehensible, almost +meaningless, but bewitching image, was deeply rooted in his heart. At +Baden he once more regained his old footing with her; it seemed as +though she had never loved him so passionately ... but in a month it +was all at an end: the flame flickered up for the last time and went +out for ever. Foreseeing inevitable separation, he wanted at least to +remain her friend, as though friendship with such a woman was +possible.... She secretly left Baden, and from that time steadily +avoided Kirsanov. He returned to Russia, and tried to live his former +life again; but he could not get back into the old groove. He wandered +from place to place like a man possessed; he still went into society; +he still retained the habits of a man of the world; he could boast of +two or three fresh conquests; but he no longer expected anything much +of himself or of others, and he undertook nothing. He grew old and +grey; spending all his evenings at the club, jaundiced and bored, and +arguing in bachelor society became a necessity for him--a bad sign, as +we all know. Marriage, of course, he did not even think of. Ten years +passed in this way; they passed by colourless and fruitless--and +quickly, fearfully quickly. Nowhere does time fly past as in Russia; in +prison they say it flies even faster. One day at dinner at the club, +Pavel Petrovitch heard of the death of the Princess R----. She had died +at Paris in a state bordering on insanity. + +He got up from the table, and a long time he paced about the rooms of +the club, or stood stockstill near the card-players, but he did not go +home earlier than usual. Some time later he received a packet addressed +to him; in it was the ring he had given the princess. She had drawn +lines in the shape of a cross over the sphinx and sent him word that +the solution of the enigma--was the cross. + +This happened at the beginning of the year 1848, at the very time when +Nikolai Petrovitch came to Petersburg, after the loss of his wife. +Pavel Petrovitch had scarcely seen his brother since the latter had +settled in the country; the marriage of Nikolai Petrovitch had +coincided with the very first days of Pavel Petrovitch's acquaintance +with the princess. When he came back from abroad, he had gone to him +with the intention of staying a couple of months with him, in +sympathetic enjoyment of his happiness, but he had only succeeded in +standing a week of it. The difference in the positions of the two +brothers was too great. In 1848, this difference had grown less; +Nikolai Petrovitch had lost his wife, Pavel Petrovitch had lost his +memories; after the death of the princess he tried not to think of her. +But to Nikolai, there remained the sense of a well-spent life, his son +was growing up under his eyes; Pavel, on the contrary, a solitary +bachelor, was entering upon that indefinite twilight period of regrets +that are akin to hopes, and hopes that are akin to regrets, when youth +is over, while old age has not yet come. + +This time was harder for Pavel Petrovitch than for another man; in +losing his past, he lost everything. + +'I will not invite you to Maryino now,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to him +one day, (he had called his property by that name in honour of his +wife); 'you were dull there in my dear wife's time, and now I think you +would be bored to death.' + +'I was stupid and fidgety then,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'since then +I have grown quieter, if not wiser. On the contrary, now, if you will +let me, I am ready to settle with you for good.' + +For all answer Nikolai Petrovitch embraced him; but a year and a half +passed after this conversation, before Pavel Petrovitch made up his +mind to carry out his intention. When he was once settled in the +country, however, he did not leave it, even during the three winters +which Nikolai Petrovitch spent in Petersburg with his son. He began to +read, chiefly English; he arranged his whole life, roughly speaking, in +the English style, rarely saw the neighbours, and only went out to the +election of marshals, where he was generally silent, only occasionally +annoying and alarming land-owners of the old school by his liberal +sallies, and not associating with the representatives of the younger +generation. Both the latter and the former considered him 'stuck up'; +and both parties respected him for his fine aristocratic manners; for +his reputation for successes in love; for the fact that he was very +well dressed and always stayed in the best room in the best hotel; for +the fact that he generally dined well, and had once even dined with +Wellington at Louis Philippe's table; for the fact that he always took +everywhere with him a real silver dressing-case and a portable bath; +for the fact that he always smelt of some exceptionally 'good form' +scent; for the fact that he played whist in masterly fashion, and +always lost; and lastly, they respected him also for his incorruptible +honesty. Ladies considered him enchantingly romantic, but he did not +cultivate ladies' acquaintance.... + +'So you see, Yevgeny,' observed Arkady, as he finished his story, 'how +unjustly you judge of my uncle! To say nothing of his having more than +once helped my father out of difficulties, given him all his money--the +property, perhaps you don't know, wasn't divided--he's glad to help any +one, among other things he always sticks up for the peasants; it's +true, when he talks to them he frowns and sniffs eau de cologne.' ... + +'His nerves, no doubt,' put in Bazarov. + +'Perhaps; but his heart is very good. And he's far from being stupid. +What useful advice he has given me especially ... especially in regard +to relations with women.' + +'Aha! a scalded dog fears cold water, we know that!' + +'In short,' continued Arkady, 'he's profoundly unhappy, believe me; +it's a sin to despise him.' + +'And who does despise him?' retorted Bazarov. 'Still, I must say that a +fellow who stakes his whole life on one card--a woman's love--and when +that card fails, turns sour, and lets himself go till he's fit for +nothing, is not a man, but a male. You say he's unhappy; you ought to +know best; to be sure, he's not got rid of all his fads. I'm convinced +that he solemnly imagines himself a superior creature because he reads +that wretched _Galignani_, and once a month saves a peasant from a +flogging.' + +'But remember his education, the age in which he grew up,' observed +Arkady. + +'Education?' broke in Bazarov. 'Every man must educate himself, just as +I've done, for instance.... And as for the age, why should I depend on +it? Let it rather depend on me. No, my dear fellow, that's all +shallowness, want of backbone! And what stuff it all is, about these +mysterious relations between a man and woman? We physiologists know +what these relations are. You study the anatomy of the eye; where does +the enigmatical glance you talk about come in there? That's all +romantic, nonsensical, aesthetic rot. We had much better go and look at +the beetle.' + +And the two friends went off to Bazarov's room, which was already +pervaded by a sort of medico-surgical odour, mingled with the smell of +cheap tobacco. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Pavel Petrovitch did not long remain present at his brother's interview +with his bailiff, a tall, thin man with a sweet consumptive voice and +knavish eyes, who to all Nikolai Petrovitch's remarks answered, +'Certainly, sir,' and tried to make the peasants out to be thieves and +drunkards. The estate had only recently been put on to the new reformed +system, and the new mechanism worked, creaking like an ungreased wheel, +warping and cracking like homemade furniture of unseasoned wood. +Nikolai Petrovitch did not lose heart, but often he sighed, and was +gloomy; he felt that the thing could not go on without money, and his +money was almost all spent. Arkady had spoken the truth; Pavel +Petrovitch had more than once helped his brother; more than once, +seeing him struggling and cudgelling his brains, at a loss which way to +turn, Pavel Petrovitch moved deliberately to the window, and with his +hands thrust into his pockets, muttered between his teeth, '_mais je +puis vous de l'argent_,' and gave him money; but to-day he had none +himself, and he preferred to go away. The petty details of agricultural +management worried him; besides, it constantly struck him that Nikolai +Petrovitch, for all his zeal and industry, did not set about things in +the right way, though he would not have been able to point out +precisely where Nikolai Petrovitch's mistake lay. 'My brother's not +practical enough,' he reasoned to himself; 'they impose upon him.' +Nikolai Petrovitch, on the other hand, had the highest opinion of Pavel +Petrovitch's practical ability, and always asked his advice. 'I'm a +soft, weak fellow, I've spent my life in the wilds,' he used to say; +'while you haven't seen so much of the world for nothing, you see +through people; you have an eagle eye.' In answer to which Pavel +Petrovitch only turned away, but did not contradict his brother. + +Leaving Nikolai Petrovitch in his study, he walked along the corridor, +which separated the front part of the house from the back; when he had +reached a low door, he stopped in hesitation, then pulling his +moustaches, he knocked at it. + +'Who's there? Come in,' sounded Fenitchka's voice. + +'It's I,' said Pavel Petrovitch, and he opened the door. + +Fenitchka jumped up from the chair on which she was sitting with her +baby, and giving him into the arms of a girl, who at once carried him +out of the room, she put straight her kerchief hastily. + +'Pardon me, if I disturb you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, not looking at +her; 'I only wanted to ask you ... they are sending into the town +to-day, I think ... please let them buy me some green tea.' + +'Certainly,' answered Fenitchka; 'how much do you desire them to buy?' + +'Oh, half a pound will be enough, I imagine. You have made a change +here, I see,' he added, with a rapid glance round him, which glided +over Fenitchka's face too. 'The curtains here,' he explained, seeing +she did not understand him. + +'Oh, yes, the curtains; Nikolai Petrovitch was so good as to make me a +present of them; but they have been put up a long while now.' + +'Yes, and it's a long while since I have been to see you. Now it is +very nice here.' + +'Thanks to Nikolai Petrovitch's kindness,' murmured Fenitchka. + +'You are more comfortable here than in the little lodge you used to +have?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch urbanely, but without the slightest +smile. + +'Certainly, it's more comfortable.' + +'Who has been put in your place now?' + +'The laundry-maids are there now.' + +'Ah!' + +Pavel Petrovitch was silent. 'Now he is going,' thought Fenitchka; but +he did not go, and she stood before him motionless. + +'What did you send your little one away for?' said Pavel Petrovitch at +last. 'I love children; let me see him.' + +Fenitchka blushed all over with confusion and delight. She was afraid +of Pavel Petrovitch; he had scarcely ever spoken to her. + +'Dunyasha,' she called; 'will you bring Mitya, please.' (Fenitchka did +not treat any one in the house familiarly.) 'But wait a minute, he must +have a frock on,' Fenitchka was going towards the door. + +'That doesn't matter,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'I will be back directly,' answered Fenitchka, and she went out +quickly. + +Pavel Petrovitch was left alone, and he looked round this time with +special attention. The small low-pitched room in which he found himself +was very clean and snug. It smelt of the freshly painted floor and of +camomile. Along the walls stood chairs with lyre-shaped backs, bought +by the late general on his campaign in Poland; in one corner was a +little bedstead under a muslin canopy beside an iron-clamped chest with +a convex lid. In the opposite corner a little lamp was burning before a +big dark picture of St. Nikolai the wonder-worker; a tiny porcelain egg +hung by a red ribbon from the protruding gold halo down to the saint's +breast; by the windows greenish glass jars of last year's jam carefully +tied down could be seen; on their paper covers Fenitchka herself had +written in big letters 'Gooseberry'; Nikolai Petrovitch was +particularly fond of that preserve. On a long cord from the ceiling a +cage hung with a short-tailed siskin in it; he was constantly chirping +and hopping about, the cage was constantly shaking and swinging, while +hempseeds fell with a light tap on to the floor. On the wall just above +a small chest of drawers hung some rather bad photographs of Nikolai +Petrovitch in various attitudes, taken by an itinerant photographer; +there too hung a photograph of Fenitchka herself, which was an absolute +failure; it was an eyeless face wearing a forced smile, in a dingy +frame, nothing more could be made out; while above Fenitchka, General +Yermolov, in a Circassian cloak, scowled menacingly upon the Caucasian +mountains in the distance, from beneath a little silk shoe for pins +which fell right on to his brows. + +Five minutes passed; bustling and whispering could be heard in the next +room. Pavel Petrovitch took up from the chest of drawers a greasy book, +an odd volume of Masalsky's _Musketeer_, and turned over a few +pages.... The door opened, and Fenitchka came in with Mitya in her +arms. She had put on him a little red smock with embroidery on the +collar, had combed his hair and washed his face; he was breathing +heavily, his whole body working, and his little hands waving in the +air, as is the way with all healthy babies; but his smart smock +obviously impressed him, an expression of delight was reflected in +every part of his little fat person. Fenitchka had put her own hair too +in order, and had arranged her kerchief; but she might well have +remained as she was. And really is there anything in the world more +captivating than a beautiful young mother with a healthy baby in her +arms? + +'What a chubby fellow!' said Pavel Petrovitch graciously, and he +tickled Mitya's little double chin with the tapering nail of his +forefinger. The baby stared at the siskin, and chuckled. + +'That's uncle,' said Fenitchka, bending her face down to him and +slightly rocking him, while Dunyasha quietly set in the window a +smouldering perfumed stick, putting a halfpenny under it. + +'How many months old is he?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Six months; it will soon be seven, on the eleventh.' + +'Isn't it eight, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' put in Dunyasha, with some +timidity. + +'No, seven; what an idea!' The baby chuckled again, stared at the +chest, and suddenly caught hold of his mother's nose and mouth with all +his five little fingers. 'Saucy mite,' said Fenitchka, not drawing her +face away. + +'He's like my brother,' observed Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Who else should he be like?' thought Fenitchka. + +'Yes,' continued Pavel Petrovitch, as though speaking to himself; +'there's an unmistakable likeness.' He looked attentively, almost +mournfully, at Fenitchka. + +'That's uncle,' she repeated, in a whisper this time. + +'Ah! Pavel! so you're here!' was heard suddenly the voice of Nikolai +Petrovitch. + +Pavel Petrovitch turned hurriedly round, frowning; but his brother +looked at him with such delight, such gratitude, that he could not help +responding to his smile. + +'You've a splendid little cherub,' he said, and looking at his watch, +'I came in here to speak about some tea.' + +And, assuming an expression of indifference, Pavel Petrovitch at once +went out of the room. + +'Did he come of himself?' Nikolai Petrovitch asked Fenitchka. + +'Yes; he knocked and came in.' + +'Well, and has Arkasha been in to see you again?' + +'No. Hadn't I better move into the lodge, Nikolai Petrovitch?' + +'Why so?' + +'I wonder whether it wouldn't be best just for the first.' + +'N ... no,' Nikolai Petrovitch brought out hesitatingly, rubbing his +forehead. 'We ought to have done it before.... How are you, fatty?' he +said, suddenly brightening, and going up to the baby, he kissed him on +the cheek; then he bent a little and pressed his lips to Fenitchka's +hand, which lay white as milk upon Mitya's little red smock. + +'Nikolai Petrovitch! what are you doing?' she whispered, dropping her +eyes, then slowly raising them. Very charming was the expression of her +eyes when she peeped, as it were, from under her lids, and smiled +tenderly and a little foolishly. + +Nikolai Petrovitch had made Fenitchka's acquaintance in the following +manner. He had once happened three years before to stay a night at an +inn in a remote district town. He was agreeably struck by the cleanness +of the room assigned to him, the freshness of the bed-linen. Surely the +woman of the house must be a German? was the idea that occurred to him; +but she proved to be a Russian, a woman of about fifty, neatly dressed, +of a good-looking, sensible countenance and discreet speech. He entered +into conversation with her at tea; he liked her very much. Nikolai +Petrovitch had at that time only just moved into his new home, and not +wishing to keep serfs in the house, he was on the look-out for +wage-servants; the woman of the inn on her side complained of the small +number of visitors to the town, and the hard times; he proposed to her +to come into his house in the capacity of housekeeper; she consented. +Her husband had long been dead, leaving her an only daughter, +Fenitchka. Within a fortnight Arina Savishna (that was the new +housekeeper's name) arrived with her daughter at Maryino and installed +herself in the little lodge. Nikolai Petrovitch's choice proved a +successful one. Arina brought order into the household. As for +Fenitchka, who was at that time seventeen, no one spoke of her, and +scarcely any one saw her; she lived quietly and sedately, and only on +Sundays Nikolai Petrovitch noticed in the church somewhere in a side +place the delicate profile of her white face. More than a year passed +thus. + +One morning, Arina came into his study, and bowing low as usual, she +asked him if he could do anything for her daughter, who had got a spark +from the stove in her eye. Nikolai Petrovitch, like all stay-at-home +people, had studied doctoring and even compiled a homoeopathic guide. +He at once told Arina to bring the patient to him. Fenitchka was much +frightened when she heard the master had sent for her; however, she +followed her mother. Nikolai Petrovitch led her to the window and took +her head in his two hands. After thoroughly examining her red and +swollen eye, he prescribed a fomentation, which he made up himself at +once, and tearing his handkerchief in pieces, he showed her how it +ought to be applied. Fenitchka listened to all he had to say, and then +was going. 'Kiss the master's hand, silly girl,' said Arina. Nikolai +Petrovitch did not give her his hand, and in confusion himself kissed +her bent head on the parting of her hair. Fenitchka's eye was soon well +again, but the impression she had made on Nikolai Petrovitch did not +pass away so quickly. He was for ever haunted by that pure, delicate, +timidly raised face; he felt on the palms of his hands that soft hair, +and saw those innocent, slightly parted lips, through which pearly +teeth gleamed with moist brilliance in the sunshine. He began to watch +her with great attention in church, and tried to get into conversation +with her. At first she was shy of him, and one day meeting him at the +approach of evening in a narrow footpath through a field of rye, she +ran into the tall thick rye, overgrown with cornflowers and wormwood, +so as not to meet him face to face. He caught sight of her little head +through a golden network of ears of rye, from which she was peeping out +like a little animal, and called affectionately to her-- + +'Good-evening, Fenitchka! I don't bite.' + +'Good-evening,' she whispered, not coming out of her ambush. + +By degrees she began to be more at home with him, but was still shy in +his presence, when suddenly her mother, Arina, died of cholera. What +was to become of Fenitchka? She inherited from her mother a love for +order, regularity, and respectability; but she was so young, so alone. +Nikolai Petrovitch was himself so good and considerate.... It's +needless to relate the rest.... + +'So my brother came in to see you?' Nikolai Petrovitch questioned her. +'He knocked and came in?' + +'Yes.' + +'Well, that's a good thing. Let me give Mitya a swing.' + +And Nikolai Petrovitch began tossing him almost up to the ceiling, to +the huge delight of the baby, and to the considerable uneasiness of the +mother, who every time he flew up stretched her arms up towards his +little bare legs. + +Pavel Petrovitch went back to his artistic study, with its walls +covered with handsome bluish-grey hangings, with weapons hanging upon a +variegated Persian rug nailed to the wall; with walnut furniture, +upholstered in dark green velveteen, with a _renaissance_ bookcase of +old black oak, with bronze statuettes on the magnificent writing-table, +with an open hearth. He threw himself on the sofa, clasped his hands +behind his head, and remained without moving, looking with a face +almost of despair at the ceiling. Whether he wanted to hide from the +very walls that which was reflected in his face, or for some other +reason, he got up, drew the heavy window curtains, and again threw +himself on the sofa. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +On the same day Bazarov made acquaintance with Fenitchka. He was +walking with Arkady in the garden, and explaining to him why some of +the trees, especially the oaks, had not done well. + +'You ought to have planted silver poplars here by preference, and +spruce firs, and perhaps limes, giving them some loam. The arbour there +has done well,' he added, 'because it's acacia and lilac; they're +accommodating good fellows, those trees, they don't want much care. But +there's some one in here.' + +In the arbour was sitting Fenitchka, with Dunyasha and Mitya. Bazarov +stood still, while Arkady nodded to Fenitchka like an old friend. + +'Who's that?' Bazarov asked him directly they had passed by. 'What a +pretty girl!' + +'Whom are you speaking of?' + +'You know; only one of them was pretty.' + +Arkady, not without embarrassment, explained to him briefly who +Fenitchka was. + +'Aha!' commented Bazarov; 'your father's got good taste, one can see. I +like him, your father, ay, ay! He's a jolly fellow. We must make +friends though,' he added, and turned back towards the arbour. + +'Yevgeny!' Arkady cried after him in dismay; 'mind what you are about, +for mercy's sake.' + +'Don't worry yourself,' said Bazarov; 'I know how to behave myself--I'm +not a booby.' + +Going up to Fenitchka, he took off his cap. + +'Allow me to introduce myself,' he began, with a polite bow. 'I'm a +harmless person, and a friend of Arkady Nikolaevitch's.' + +Fenitchka got up from the garden seat and looked at him without +speaking. + +'What a splendid baby!' continued Bazarov; 'don't be uneasy, my praises +have never brought ill-luck yet. Why is it his cheeks are so flushed? +Is he cutting his teeth?' + +'Yes,' said Fenitchka; 'he has cut four teeth already, and now the gums +are swollen again.' + +'Show me, and don't be afraid, I'm a doctor.' + +Bazarov took the baby up in his arms, and to the great astonishment +both of Fenitchka and Dunyasha the child made no resistance, and was +not frightened. + +'I see, I see.... It's nothing, everything's as it should be; he will +have a good set of teeth. If anything goes wrong, tell me. And are you +quite well yourself?' + +'Quite, thank God.' + +'Thank God, indeed--that's the great thing. And you?' he added, turning +to Dunyasha. + +Dunyasha, a girl very prim in the master's house, and a romp outside +the gates, only giggled in answer. + +'Well, that's all right. Here's your gallant fellow.' + +Fenitchka received the baby in her arms. + +'How good he was with you!' she commented in an undertone. + +'Children are always good with me.' answered Bazarov; 'I have a way +with them.' + +'Children know who loves them,' remarked Dunyasha. + +'Yes, they certainly do,' Fenitchka said. 'Why, Mitya will not go to +some people for anything.' + +'Will he come to me?' asked Arkady, who, after standing in the distance +for some time, had gone up to the arbour. + +He tried to entice Mitya to come to him, but Mitya threw his head back +and screamed, to Fenitchka's great confusion. + +'Another day, when he's had time to get used to me,' said Arkady +indulgently, and the two friends walked away. + +'What's her name?' asked Bazarov. + +'Fenitchka ... Fedosya,' answered Arkady. + +'And her father's name? One must know that too.' + +'Nikolaevna.' + +'_Bene_. What I like in her is that she's not too embarrassed. Some +people, I suppose, would think ill of her for it. What nonsense! What +is there to embarrass her? She's a mother--she's all right.' + +'She's all right,' observed Arkady,--'but my father.' + +'And he's right too,' put in Bazarov. + +'Well, no, I don't think so.' + +'I suppose an extra heir's not to your liking?' + +'I wonder you're not ashamed to attribute such ideas to me!' retorted +Arkady hotly; 'I don't consider my father wrong from that point of +view; I think he ought to marry her.' + +'Hoity-toity!' responded Bazarov tranquilly. 'What magnanimous fellows +we are! You still attach significance to marriage; I did not expect +that of you.' + +The friends walked a few paces in silence. + +'I have looked at all your father's establishment,' Bazarov began +again. 'The cattle are inferior, the horses are broken down; the +buildings aren't up to much, and the workmen look confirmed loafers; +while the superintendent is either a fool, or a knave, I haven't quite +found out which yet.' + +'You are rather hard on everything to-day, Yevgeny Vassilyevitch.' + +'And the dear good peasants are taking your father in to a dead +certainty. You know the Russian proverb, "The Russian peasant will +cheat God Himself."' + +'I begin to agree with my uncle,' remarked Arkady; 'you certainly have +a poor opinion of Russians.' + +'As though that mattered! The only good point in a Russian is his +having the lowest possible opinion of himself. What does matter is that +two and two make four, and the rest is all foolery.' + +'And is nature foolery?' said Arkady, looking pensively at the +bright-coloured fields in the distance, in the beautiful soft light of +the sun, which was not yet high up in the sky. + +'Nature, too, is foolery in the sense you understand it. Nature's not a +temple, but a workshop, and man's the workman in it.' + +At that instant, the long drawn notes of a violoncello floated out to +them from the house. Some one was playing Schubert's _Expectation_ with +much feeling, though with an untrained hand, and the melody flowed with +honey sweetness through the air. + +'What's that?' cried Bazarov in amazement. + +'It's my father.' + +'Your father plays the violoncello?' + +'Yes.' + +'And how old is your father?' + +'Forty-four.' + +Bazarov suddenly burst into a roar of laughter. + +'What are you laughing at?' + +'Upon my word, a man of forty-four, a _paterfamilias_ in this +out-of-the-way district, playing on the violoncello!' + +Bazarov went on laughing; but much as he revered his master, this time +Arkady did not even smile. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +About a fortnight passed by. Life at Maryino went on its accustomed +course, while Arkady was lazy and enjoyed himself, and Bazarov worked. +Every one in the house had grown used to him, to his careless manners, +and his curt and abrupt speeches. Fenitchka, in particular, was so far +at home with him that one night she sent to wake him up; Mitya had had +convulsions; and he had gone, and, half joking, half-yawning as usual, +he stayed two hours with her and relieved the child. On the other hand +Pavel Petrovitch had grown to detest Bazarov with all the strength of +his soul; he regarded him as stuck-up, impudent, cynical, and vulgar; +he suspected that Bazarov had no respect for him, that he had all but a +contempt for him--him, Pavel Kirsanov! + +Nikolai Petrovitch was rather afraid of the young 'nihilist,' and was +doubtful whether his influence over Arkady was for the good; but he was +glad to listen to him, and was glad to be present at his scientific and +chemical experiments. Bazarov had brought with him a microscope, and +busied himself for hours together with it. The servants, too, took to +him, though he made fun of them; they felt, all the same, that he was +one of themselves, not a master. Dunyasha was always ready to giggle +with him, and used to cast significant and stealthy glances at him when +she skipped by like a rabbit; Piotr, a man vain and stupid to the last +degree, for ever wearing an affected frown on his brow, a man whose +whole merit consisted in the fact that he looked civil, could spell out +a page of reading, and was diligent in brushing his coat--even he +smirked and brightened up directly Bazarov paid him any attention; the +boys on the farm simply ran after the 'doctor' like puppies. The old +man Prokofitch was the only one who did not like him; he handed him the +dishes at table with a surly face, called him a 'butcher' and 'an +upstart,' and declared that with his great whiskers he looked like a +pig in a stye. Prokofitch in his own way was quite as much of an +aristocrat as Pavel Petrovitch. + +The best days of the year had come--the first days of June. The weather +kept splendidly fine; in the distance, it is true, the cholera was +threatening, but the inhabitants of that province had had time to get +used to its visits. Bazarov used to get up very early and go out for +two or three miles, not for a walk--he couldn't bear walking without an +object--but to collect specimens of plants and insects. Sometimes he +took Arkady with him. + +On the way home an argument usually sprang up, and Arkady was usually +vanquished in it, though he said more than his companion. + +One day they had lingered rather late; Nikolai Petrovitch went to meet +them in the garden, and as he reached the arbour he suddenly heard the +quick steps and voices of the two young men. They were walking on the +other side of the arbour, and could not see him. + +'You don't know my father well enough,' said Arkady. + +'Your father's a nice chap,' said Bazarov, 'but he's behind the times; +his day is done.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch listened intently.... Arkady made no answer. + +The man whose day was done remained two minutes motionless, and stole +slowly home. + +'The day before yesterday I saw him reading Pushkin,' Bazarov was +continuing meanwhile. 'Explain to him, please, that that's no earthly +use. He's not a boy, you know; it's time to throw up that rubbish. And +what an idea to be a romantic at this time of day! Give him something +sensible to read.' + +'What ought I to give him?' asked Arkady. + +'Oh, I think Buchner's _Stoff und Kraft_ to begin with.' + +'I think so too,' observed Arkady approving, '_Stoff und Kraft_ is +written in popular language....' + +'So it seems,' Nikolai Petrovitch said the same day after dinner to his +brother, as he sat in his study, 'you and I are behind the times, our +day's over. Well, well. Perhaps Bazarov is right; but one thing I +confess, makes me feel sore; I did so hope, precisely now, to get on to +such close intimate terms with Arkady, and it turns out I'm left +behind, and he has gone forward, and we can't understand one another.' + +'How has he gone forward? And in what way is he so superior to us +already?' cried Pavel Petrovitch impatiently. 'It's that high and +mighty gentleman, that nihilist, who's knocked all that into his head. +I hate that doctor fellow; in my opinion, he's simply a quack; I'm +convinced, for all his tadpoles, he's not got very far even in +medicine.' + +'No, brother, you mustn't say that; Bazarov is clever, and knows his +subject.' + +'And his conceit's something revolting,' Pavel Petrovitch broke in +again. + +'Yes,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'he is conceited. But there's no +doing without that, it seems; only that's what I did not take into +account. I thought I was doing everything to keep up with the times; I +have started a model farm; I have done well by the peasants, so that I +am positively called a "Red Radical" all over the province; I read, I +study, I try in every way to keep abreast with the requirements of the +day--and they say my day's over. And, brother, I begin to think that it +is.' + +'Why so?' + +'I'll tell you why. This morning I was sitting reading Pushkin.... I +remember, it happened to be _The Gipsies_ ... all of a sudden Arkady +came up to me, and, without speaking, with such a kindly compassion on +his face, as gently as if I were a baby, took the book away from me, +and laid another before me--a German book ... smiled, and went away, +carrying Pushkin off with him.' + +'Upon my word! What book did he give you?' + +'This one here.' + +And Nikolai Petrovitch pulled the famous treatise of Buchner, in the +ninth edition, out of his coat-tail pocket. + +Pavel Petrovitch turned it over in his hands. 'Hm!' he growled. 'Arkady +Nikolaevitch is taking your education in hand. Well, did you try +reading it?' + +'Yes, I tried it.' + +'Well, what did you think of it?' + +'Either I'm stupid, or it's all--nonsense. I must be stupid, I +suppose.' + +'Haven't you forgotten your German?' queried Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Oh, I understand the German.' + +Pavel Petrovitch again turned the book over in his hands, and glanced +from under his brows at his brother. Both were silent. + +'Oh, by the way,' began Nikolai Petrovitch, obviously wishing to change +the subject, 'I've got a letter from Kolyazin.' + +'Matvy Ilyitch?' + +'Yes. He has come to----to inspect the province. He's quite a bigwig +now; and writes to me that, as a relation, he should like to see us +again, and invites you and me and Arkady to the town.' + +'Are you going?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'No; are you?' + +'No, I shan't go either. Much object there would be in dragging oneself +over forty miles on a wild-goose chase. _Mathieu_ wants to show himself +in all his glory. Damn him! he will have the whole province doing him +homage; he can get on without the likes of us. A grand dignity, indeed, +a privy councillor! If I had stayed in the service, if I had drudged on +in official harness, I should have been a general-adjutant by now. +Besides, you and I are behind the times, you know.' + +'Yes, brother; it's time, it seems, to order a coffin and cross one's +arms on ones breast,' remarked Nikolai Petrovitch, with a sigh. + +'Well, I'm not going to give in quite so soon,' muttered his brother. +'I've got a tussle with that doctor fellow before me, I feel sure of +that.' + +A tussle came off that same day at evening tea. Pavel Petrovitch came +into the drawing-room, all ready for the fray, irritable and +determined. He was only waiting for an excuse to fall upon the enemy; +but for a long while an excuse did not present itself. As a rule, +Bazarov said little in the presence of the 'old Kirsanovs' (that was +how he spoke of the brothers), and that evening he felt out of humour, +and drank off cup after cup of tea without a word. Pavel Petrovitch was +all aflame with impatience; his wishes were fulfilled at last. + +The conversation turned on one of the neighbouring landowners. 'Rotten +aristocratic snob,' observed Bazarov indifferently. He had met him in +Petersburg. + +'Allow me to ask you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, and his lips were +trembling, 'according to your ideas, have the words "rotten" and +"aristocrat" the same meaning?' + +'I said "aristocratic snob,"' replied Bazarov, lazily swallowing a sip +of tea. + +'Precisely so; but I imagine you have the same opinion of aristocrats +as of aristocratic snobs. I think it my duty to inform you that I do +not share that opinion. I venture to assert that every one knows me for +a man of liberal ideas and devoted to progress; but, exactly for that +reason, I respect aristocrats--real aristocrats. Kindly remember, sir' +(at these words Bazarov lifted his eyes and looked at Pavel +Petrovitch), 'kindly remember, sir,' he repeated, with acrimony--'the +English aristocracy. They do not abate one iota of their rights, and +for that reason they respect the rights of others; they demand the +performance of what is due to them, and for that reason they perform +their own duties. The aristocracy has given freedom to England, and +maintains it for her.' + +'We've heard that story a good many times,' replied Bazarov; 'but what +are you trying to prove by that?' + +'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir' (when Pavel Petrovitch was angry he +intentionally clipped his words in this way, though, of course, he knew +very well that such forms are not strictly grammatical. In this +fashionable whim could be discerned a survival of the habits of the +times of Alexander. The exquisites of those days, on the rare occasions +when they spoke their own language, made use of such slipshod forms; as +much as to say, 'We, of course, are born Russians, at the same time we +are great swells, who are at liberty to neglect the rules of +scholars'); 'I am tryin' to prove by that, sir, that without the sense +of personal dignity, without self-respect--and these two sentiments are +well developed in the aristocrat--there is no secure foundation for the +social ... _bien public_ ... the social fabric. Personal character, +sir--that is the chief thing; a man's personal character must be firm +as a rock, since everything is built on it. I am very well aware, for +instance, that you are pleased to consider my habits, my dress, my +refinements, in fact, ridiculous; but all that proceeds from a sense of +self-respect, from a sense of duty--yes, indeed, of duty. I live in the +country, in the wilds, but I will not lower myself. I respect the +dignity of man in myself.' + +'Let me ask you, Pavel Petrovitch,' commented Bazarov; 'you respect +yourself, and sit with your hands folded; what sort of benefit does +that do to the _bien public_? If you didn't respect yourself, you'd do +just the same.' + +Pavel Petrovitch turned white. 'That's a different question. It's +absolutely unnecessary for me to explain to you now why I sit with +folded hands, as you are pleased to express yourself. I wish only to +tell you that aristocracy is a principle, and in our days none but +immoral or silly people can live without principles. I said that to +Arkady the day after he came home, and I repeat it now. Isn't it so, +Nikolai?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch nodded his head. + +'Aristocracy, Liberalism, progress, principles,' Bazarov was saying +meanwhile; 'if you think of it, what a lot of foreign ... and useless +words! To a Russian they're good for nothing.' + +'What is good for something according to you? If we listen to you, we +shall find ourselves outside humanity, outside its laws. Come--the +logic of history demands ...' + +'But what's that logic to us? We call get on without that too.' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why, this. You don't need logic, I hope, to put a bit of bread in your +mouth when you're hungry. What's the object of these abstractions to +us?' + +Pavel Petrovitch raised his hands in horror. + +'I don't understand you, after that. You insult the Russian people. I +don't understand how it's possible not to acknowledge principles, +rules! By virtue of what do you act then?' + +'I've told you already, uncle, that we don't accept any authorities,' +put in Arkady. + +'We act by virtue of what we recognise as beneficial,' observed +Bazarov. 'At the present time, negation is the most beneficial of +all--and we deny----' + +'Everything?' + +'Everything!' + +'What? not only art and poetry ... but even ... horrible to say ...' + +'Everything,' repeated Bazarov, with indescribable composure. + +Pavel Petrovitch stared at him. He had not expected this; while Arkady +fairly blushed with delight. + +'Allow me, though,' began Nikolai Petrovitch. 'You deny everything; or, +speaking more precisely, you destroy everything.... But one must +construct too, you know.' + +'That's not our business now.... The ground wants clearing first.' + +'The present condition of the people requires it,' added Arkady, with +dignity; 'we are bound to carry out these requirements, we have no +right to yield to the satisfaction of our personal egoism.' + +This last phrase obviously displeased Bazarov; there was a flavour of +philosophy, that is to say, romanticism about it, for Bazarov called +philosophy, too, romanticism, but he did not think it necessary to +correct his young disciple. + +'No, no!' cried Pavel Petrovitch, with sudden energy. 'I'm not willing +to believe that you, young men, know the Russian people really, that +you are the representatives of their requirements, their efforts! No; +the Russian people is not what you imagine it. Tradition it holds +sacred; it is a patriarchal people; it cannot live without faith ...' + +'I'm not going to dispute that,' Bazarov interrupted. 'I'm even ready +to agree that in that you're right.' + +'But if I am right ...' + +'And, all the same, that proves nothing.' + +'It just proves nothing,' repeated Arkady, with the confidence of a +practised chess-player, who has foreseen an apparently dangerous move +on the part of his adversary, and so is not at all taken aback by it. + +'How does it prove nothing?' muttered Pavel Petrovitch, astounded. 'You +must be going against the people then?' + +'And what if we are?' shouted Bazarov. 'The people imagine that, when +it thunders, the prophet Ilya's riding across the sky in his chariot. +What then? Are we to agree with them? Besides, the people's Russian; +but am I not Russian too?' + +'No, you are not Russian, after all you have just been saying! I can't +acknowledge you as Russian.' + +'My grandfather ploughed the land,' answered Bazarov with haughty +pride. 'Ask any one of your peasants which of us--you or me--he'd more +readily acknowledge as a fellow-countryman. You don't even know how to +talk to them.' + +'While you talk to him and despise him at the same time.' + +'Well, suppose he deserves contempt. You find fault with my attitude, +but how do you know that I have got it by chance, that it's not a +product of that very national spirit, in the name of which you wage war +on it?' + +'What an idea! Much use in nihilists!' + +'Whether they're of use or not, is not for us to decide. Why, even you +suppose you're not a useless person.' + +'Gentlemen, gentlemen, no personalities, please!' cried Nikolai +Petrovitch, getting up. + +Pavel Petrovitch smiled, and laying his hand on his brother's shoulder, +forced him to sit down again. + +'Don't be uneasy,' he said; 'I shall not forget myself, just through +that sense of dignity which is made fun of so mercilessly by our +friend--our friend, the doctor. Let me ask,' he resumed, turning again +to Bazarov; 'you suppose, possibly, that your doctrine is a novelty? +That is quite a mistake. The materialism you advocate has been more +than once in vogue already, and has always proved insufficient ...' + +'A foreign word again!' broke in Bazarov. He was beginning to feel +vicious, and his face assumed a peculiar coarse coppery hue. 'In the +first place, we advocate nothing; that's not our way.' + +'What do you do, then?' + +'I'll tell you what we do. Not long ago we used to say that our +officials took bribes, that we had no roads, no commerce, no real +justice ...' + +'Oh, I see, you are reformers--that's what that's called, I fancy. I +too should agree to many of your reforms, but ...' + +'Then we suspected that talk, perpetual talk, and nothing but talk, +about our social diseases, was not worth while, that it all led to +nothing but superficiality and pedantry; we saw that our leading men, +so-called advanced people and reformers, are no good; that we busy +ourselves over foolery, talk rubbish about art, unconscious +creativeness, parliamentarism, trial by jury, and the deuce knows what +all; while, all the while, it's a question of getting bread to eat, +while we're stifling under the grossest superstition, while all our +enterprises come to grief, simply because there aren't honest men +enough to carry them on, while the very emancipation our Government's +busy upon will hardly come to any good, because peasants are glad to +rob even themselves to get drunk at the gin-shop.' + +'Yes,' interposed Pavel Petrovitch, 'yes; you were convinced of all +this, and decided not to undertake anything seriously, yourselves.' + +'We decided not to undertake anything,' repeated Bazarov grimly. He +suddenly felt vexed with himself for having, without reason, been so +expansive before this gentleman. + +'But to confine yourselves to abuse?' + +'To confine ourselves to abuse.' + +'And that is called nihilism?' + +'And that's called nihilism,' Bazarov repeated again, this time with +peculiar rudeness. + +Pavel Petrovitch puckered up his face a little. 'So that's it!' he +observed in a strangely composed voice. 'Nihilism is to cure all our +woes, and you, you are our heroes and saviours. But why do you abuse +others, those reformers even? Don't you do as much talking as every one +else?' + +'Whatever faults we have, we do not err in that way,' Bazarov muttered +between his teeth. + +'What, then? Do you act, or what? Are you preparing for action?' + +Bazarov made no answer. Something like a tremor passed over Pavel +Petrovitch, but he at once regained control of himself. + +'Hm! ... Action, destruction ...' he went on. 'But how destroy without +even knowing why?' + +'We shall destroy, because we are a force,' observed Arkady. + +Pavel Petrovitch looked at his nephew and laughed. + +'Yes, a force is not to be called to account,' said Arkady, drawing +himself up. + +'Unhappy boy!' wailed Pavel Petrovitch, he was positively incapable of +maintaining his firm demeanour any longer. 'If you could only realise +what it is you are doing for your country. No; it's enough to try the +patience of an angel! Force! There's force in the savage Kalmuck, in +the Mongolian; but what is it to us? What is precious to us is +civilisation; yes, yes, sir, its fruits are precious to us. And don't +tell me those fruits are worthless; the poorest dauber, _un +barbouilleur_, the man who plays dance music for five farthings an +evening, is of more use than you, because they are the representatives +of civilisation, and not of brute Mongolian force! You fancy yourselves +advanced people, and all the while you are only fit for the Kalmuck's +hovel! Force! And recollect, you forcible gentlemen, that you're only +four men and a half, and the others are millions, who won't let you +trample their sacred traditions under foot, who will crush you and walk +over you!' + +'If we're crushed, serve us right,' observed Bazarov. 'But that's an +open question. We are not so few as you suppose.' + +'What? You seriously suppose you will come to terms with a whole +people?' + +'All Moscow was burnt down, you know, by a farthing dip,' answered +Bazarov. + +'Yes, yes. First a pride almost Satanic, then ridicule--that, that's +what it is attracts the young, that's what gains an ascendancy over the +inexperienced hearts of boys! Here's one of them sitting beside you, +ready to worship the ground under your feet. Look at him! (Arkady +turned away and frowned.) And this plague has spread far already. I +have been told that in Rome our artists never set foot in the Vatican. +Raphael they regard as almost a fool, because, if you please, he's an +authority; while they're all the while most disgustingly sterile and +unsuccessful, men whose imagination does not soar beyond 'Girls at a +Fountain,' however they try! And the girls even out of drawing. They +are fine fellows to your mind, are they not?' + +'To my mind,' retorted Bazarov, 'Raphael's not worth a brass farthing; +and they're no better than he.' + +'Bravo! bravo! Listen, Arkady ... that's how young men of to-day ought +to express themselves! And if you come to think of it, how could they +fail to follow you! In old days, young men had to study; they didn't +want to be called dunces, so they had to work hard whether they liked +it or not. But now, they need only say, "Everything in the world is +foolery!" and the trick's done. Young men are delighted. And, to be +sure, they were simply geese before, and now they have suddenly turned +nihilists.' + +'Your praiseworthy sense of personal dignity has given way,' remarked +Bazarov phlegmatically, while Arkady was hot all over, and his eyes +were flashing. 'Our argument has gone too far; it's better to cut it +short, I think. I shall be quite ready to agree with you,' he added, +getting up, 'when you bring forward a single institution in our present +mode of life, in family or in social life, which does not call for +complete and unqualified destruction.' + +'I will bring forward millions of such institutions,' cried Pavel +Petrovitch--'millions! Well--the Mir, for instance.' + +A cold smile curved Bazarov's lips. 'Well, as regards the Mir,' he +commented; 'you had better talk to your brother. He has seen by now, I +should fancy, what sort of thing the Mir is in fact--its common +guarantee, its sobriety, and other features of the kind.' + +'The family, then, the family as it exists among our peasants!' cried +Pavel Petrovitch. + +'And that subject, too, I imagine, it will be better for yourselves not +to go into in detail. Don't you realise all the advantages of the head +of the family choosing his daughters-in-law? Take my advice, Pavel +Petrovitch, allow yourself two days to think about it; you're not +likely to find anything on the spot. Go through all our classes, and +think well over each, while I and Arkady will ...' + +'Will go on turning everything into ridicule,' broke in Pavel +Petrovitch. + +'No, will go on dissecting frogs. Come, Arkady; good-bye for the +present, gentlemen!' + +The two friends walked off. The brothers were left alone, and at first +they only looked at one another. + +'So that,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'so that's what our young men of +this generation are! They are like that--our successors!' + +'Our successors!' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, with a dejected smile. +He had been sitting on thorns, all through the argument, and had done +nothing but glance stealthily, with a sore heart, at Arkady. 'Do you +know what I was reminded of, brother? I once had a dispute with our +poor mother; she stormed, and wouldn't listen to me. At last I said to +her, "Of course, you can't understand me; we belong," I said, "to two +different generations." She was dreadfully offended, while I thought, +"There's no help for it. It's a bitter pill, but she has to swallow +it." You see, now, our turn has come, and our successors can say to us, +"You are not of our generation; swallow your pill."' + +'You are beyond everything in your generosity and modesty,' replied +Pavel Petrovitch. 'I'm convinced, on the contrary, that you and I are +far more in the right than these young gentlemen, though we do perhaps +express ourselves in old-fashioned language, _vieilli_, and have not +the same insolent conceit.... And the swagger of the young men +nowadays! You ask one, "Do you take red wine or white?" "It is my +custom to prefer red!" he answers in a deep bass, with a face as solemn +as if the whole universe had its eyes on him at that instant....' + +'Do you care for any more tea?' asked Fenitchka, putting her head in at +the door; she had not been able to make up her mind to come into the +drawing-room while there was the sound of voices in dispute there. + +'No, you can tell them to take the samovar,' answered Nikolai +Petrovitch, and he got up to meet her. Pavel Petrovitch said '_bon +soir_' to him abruptly, and went away to his study. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Half an hour later Nikolai Petrovitch went into the garden to his +favourite arbour. He was overtaken by melancholy thoughts. For the +first time he realised clearly the distance between him and his son; he +foresaw that every day it would grow wider and wider. In vain, then, +had he spent whole days sometimes in the winter at Petersburg over the +newest books; in vain had he listened to the talk of the young men; in +vain had he rejoiced when he succeeded in putting in his word too in +their heated discussions. 'My brother says we are right,' he thought, +'and apart from all vanity, I do think myself that they are further +from the truth than we are, though at the same time I feel there is +something behind them we have not got, some superiority over us.... Is +it youth? No; not only youth. Doesn't their superiority consist in +there being fewer traces of the slaveowner in them than in us?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch's head sank despondently, and he passed his hand +over his face. + +'But to renounce poetry?' he thought again; 'to have no feeling for +art, for nature ...' + +And he looked round, as though trying to understand how it was possible +to have no feeling for nature. It was already evening; the sun was +hidden behind a small copse of aspens which lay a quarter of a mile +from the garden; its shadow stretched indefinitely across the still +fields. A peasant on a white nag went at a trot along the dark, narrow +path close beside the copse; his whole figure was clearly visible even +to the patch on his shoulder, in spite of his being in the shade; the +horse's hoofs flew along bravely. The sun's rays from the farther side +fell full on the copse, and piercing through its thickets, threw such a +warm light on the aspen trunks that they looked like pines, and their +leaves were almost a dark blue, while above them rose a pale blue sky, +faintly tinged by the glow of sunset. The swallows flew high; the wind +had quite died away, belated bees hummed slowly and drowsily among the +lilac blossom; a swarm of midges hung like a cloud over a solitary +branch which stood out against the sky. 'How beautiful, my God!' +thought Nikolai Petrovitch, and his favourite verses were almost on his +lips; he remembered Arkady's _Stoff und Kraft_--and was silent, but +still he sat there, still he gave himself up to the sorrowful +consolation of solitary thought. He was fond of dreaming; his country +life had developed the tendency in him. How short a time ago, he had +been dreaming like this, waiting for his son at the posting station, +and what a change already since that day; their relations that were +then undefined, were defined now--and how defined! Again his dead wife +came back to his imagination, but not as he had known her for many +years, not as the good domestic housewife, but as a young girl with a +slim figure, innocently inquiring eyes, and a tight twist of hair on +her childish neck. He remembered how he had seen her for the first +time. He was still a student then. He had met her on the staircase of +his lodgings, and, jostling by accident against her, he tried to +apologise, and could only mutter, '_Pardon, monsieur_,' while she +bowed, smiled, and suddenly seemed frightened, and ran away, though at +the bend of the staircase she had glanced rapidly at him, assumed a +serious air, and blushed. Afterwards, the first timid visits, the +half-words, the half-smiles, and embarrassment; and melancholy, and +yearnings, and at last that breathing rapture.... Where had it all +vanished? She had been his wife, he had been happy as few on earth are +happy.... 'But,' he mused, 'these sweet first moments, why could one +not live an eternal, undying life in them?' + +He did not try to make his thought clear to himself; but he felt that +he longed to keep that blissful time by something stronger than memory; +he longed to feel his Marya near him again to have the sense of her +warmth and breathing, and already he could fancy that over him.... + +'Nikolai Petrovitch,' came the sound of Fenitchka's voice close by him; +'where are you?' + +He started. He felt no pang, no shame. He never even admitted the +possibility of comparison between his wife and Fenitchka, but he was +sorry she had thought of coming to look for him. Her voice had brought +back to him at once his grey hairs, his age, his reality.... + +The enchanted world into which he was just stepping, which was just +rising out of the dim mists of the past, was shaken--and vanished. + +'I'm here,' he answered; 'I'm coming, run along.' 'There it is, the +traces of the slave owner,' flashed through his mind. Fenitchka peeped +into the arbour at him without speaking, and disappeared; while he +noticed with astonishment that the night had come on while he had been +dreaming. Everything around was dark and hushed. Fenitchka's face had +glimmered so pale and slight before him. He got up, and was about to go +home; but the emotion stirred in his heart could not be soothed at +once, and he began slowly walking about the garden, sometimes looking +at the ground at his feet, and then raising his eyes towards the sky +where swarms of stars were twinkling. He walked a great deal, till he +was almost tired out, while the restlessness within him, a kind of +yearning, vague, melancholy restlessness, still was not appeased. Oh, +how Bazarov would have laughed at him, if he had known what was passing +within him then! Arkady himself would have condemned him. He, a man +forty-four years old, an agriculturist and a farmer, was shedding +tears, causeless tears; this was a hundred times worse than the +violoncello. + +Nikolai Petrovitch continued walking, and could not make up his mind to +go into the house, into the snug peaceful nest, which looked out at him +so hospitably from all its lighted windows; he had not the force to +tear himself away from the darkness, the garden, the sense of the fresh +air in his face, from that melancholy, that restless craving. + +At a turn in the path, he was met by Pavel Petrovitch. 'What's the +matter with you?' he asked Nikolai Petrovitch; 'you are as white as a +ghost; you are not well; why don't you go to bed?' + +Nikolai Petrovitch explained to him briefly his state of feeling and +moved away. Pavel Petrovitch went to the end of the garden, and he too +grew thoughtful, and he too raised his eyes toward the heavens. But in +his beautiful dark eyes, nothing was reflected but the light of the +stars. He was not born an idealist, and his fastidiously dry and +sensuous soul, with its French tinge of cynicism was not capable of +dreaming.... + +'Do you know what?' Bazarov was saying to Arkady the same night. 'I've +got a splendid idea. Your father was saying to-day that he'd had an +invitation from your illustrious relative. Your father's not going; let +us be off to X----; you know the worthy man invites you too. You see +what fine weather it is; we'll stroll about and look at the town. We'll +have five or six days' outing, and enjoy ourselves.' + +'And you'll come back here again?' + +'No; I must go to my father's. You know, he lives about twenty-five +miles from X----. I've not seen him for a long while, and my mother +too; I must cheer the old people up. They've been good to me, +especially my father; he's awfully funny. I'm their only one too.' + +'And will you be long with them?' + +'I don't suppose so. It will be dull, of course.' + +'And you'll come to us on your way back?' + +'I don't know ... I'll see. Well, what do you say? Shall we go?' + +'If you like,' observed Arkady languidly. + +In his heart he was highly delighted with his friend's suggestion, but +he thought it a duty to conceal his feeling. He was not a nihilist for +nothing! + +The next day he set off with Bazarov to X----. The younger part of the +household at Maryino were sorry at their going; Dunyasha even cried ... +but the old folks breathed more easily. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +The town of X---- to which our friends set off was in the jurisdiction +of a governor who was a young man, and at once a progressive and a +despot, as often happens with Russians. Before the end of the first +year of his government, he had managed to quarrel not only with the +marshal of nobility, a retired officer of the guards, who kept open +house and a stud of horses, but even with his own subordinates. The +feuds arising from this cause assumed at last such proportions that the +ministry in Petersburg had found it necessary to send down a trusted +personage with a commission to investigate it all on the spot. The +choice of the authorities fell upon Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, the son of +the Kolyazin, under whose protection the brothers Kirsanov had once +found themselves. He, too, was a 'young man'; that is to say, he had +not long passed forty, but he was already on the high road to becoming +a statesman, and wore a star on each side of his breast--one, to be +sure, a foreign star, not of the first magnitude. Like the governor, +whom he had come down to pass judgment upon, he was reckoned a +progressive; and though he was already a bigwig, he was not like the +majority of bigwigs. He had the highest opinion of himself; his vanity +knew no bounds, but he behaved simply, looked affable, listened +condescendingly, and laughed so good-naturedly, that on a first +acquaintance he might even be taken for 'a jolly good fellow.' On +important occasions, however, he knew, as the saying is, how to make +his authority felt. 'Energy is essential,' he used to say then, +'_l'energie est la premiere qualite d'un homme d'etat_;' and for all +that, he was usually taken in, and any moderately experienced official +could turn him round his finger. Matvy Ilyitch used to speak with great +respect of Guizot, and tried to impress every one with the idea that he +did not belong to the class of _routiniers_ and high-and-dry +bureaucrats, that not a single phenomenon of social life passed +unnoticed by him.... All such phrases were very familiar to him. He +even followed, with dignified indifference, it is true, the development +of contemporary literature; so a grown-up man who meets a procession of +small boys in the street will sometimes walk after it. In reality, +Matvy Ilyitch had not got much beyond those political men of the days +of Alexander, who used to prepare for an evening party at Madame +Svyetchin's by reading a page of Condillac; only his methods were +different, more modern. He was an adroit courtier, a great hypocrite, +and nothing more; he had no special aptitude for affairs, and no +intellect, but he knew how to manage his own business successfully; no +one could get the better of him there, and, to be sure, that's the +principal thing. + +Matvy Ilyitch received Arkady with the good-nature, we might even call +it playfulness, characteristic of the enlightened higher official. He +was astonished, however, when he heard that the cousins he had invited +had remained at home in the country. 'Your father was always a queer +fellow,' he remarked, playing with the tassels of his magnificent +velvet dressing-gown, and suddenly turning to a young official in a +discreetly buttoned-up uniform, he cried, with an air of concentrated +attention, 'What?' The young man, whose lips were glued together from +prolonged silence, got up and looked in perplexity at his chief. But, +having nonplussed his subordinate, Matvy Ilyitch paid him no further +attention. Our higher officials are fond as a rule of nonplussing their +subordinates; the methods to which they have recourse to attain that +end are rather various. The following means, among others, is in great +vogue, '_is quite a favourite_,' as the English say; a high official +suddenly ceases to understand the simplest words, assuming total +deafness. He will ask, for instance, What's to-day?' + +He is respectfully informed, 'To-day's Friday, your Ex-s-s-s-lency.' + +'Eh? What? What's that? What do you say?' the great man repeats with +intense attention. + +'To-day's Friday, your Ex--s--s--lency.' + +'Eh? What? What's Friday? What Friday?' + +'Friday, your Ex--s--s--s--lency, the day of the week.' + +'What, do you pretend to teach me, eh?' + +Matvy Ilyitch was a higher official all the same, though he was +reckoned a liberal. + +'I advise you, my dear boy, to go and call on the Governor,' he said to +Arkady; 'you understand, I don't advise you to do so because I adhere +to old-fashioned ideas of the necessity of paying respect to +authorities, but simply because the Governor's a very decent fellow; +besides, you probably want to make acquaintance with the society +here.... You're not a bear, I hope? And he's giving a great ball the +day after to-morrow.' + +'Will you be at the ball?' inquired Arkady. + +'He gives it in my honour,' answered Matvy Ilyitch, almost pityingly. +'Do you dance?' + +'Yes; I dance, but not well.' + +'That's a pity! There are pretty girls here, and it's a disgrace for a +young man not to dance. Again, I don't say that through any +old-fashioned ideas; I don't in the least imagine that a man's wit lies +in his feet, but Byronism is ridiculous, _il a fait son temps_.' + +'But, uncle, it's not through Byronism, I ...' + +'I will introduce you to the ladies here; I will take you under my +wing,' interrupted Matvy Ilyitch, and he laughed complacently. 'You'll +find it warm, eh?' + +A servant entered and announced the arrival of the superintendent of +the Crown domains, a mild-eyed old man, with deep creases round his +mouth, who was excessively fond of nature, especially on a summer day, +when, in his words, 'every little busy bee takes a little bribe from +every little flower.' Arkady withdrew. + +He found Bazarov at the tavern where they were staying, and was a long +while persuading him to go with him to the Governor's. 'Well, there's +no help for it,' said Bazarov at last. 'It's no good doing things by +halves. We came to look at the gentry; let's look at them!' + +The Governor received the young men affably, but he did not ask them to +sit down, nor did he sit down himself. He was in an everlasting fuss +and hurry; in the morning he used to put on a tight uniform and an +excessively stiff cravat; he never ate or drank enough; he was for ever +making arrangements. He invited Kirsanov and Bazarov to his ball, and +within a few minutes invited them a second time, regarding them as +brothers, and calling them Kisarov. + +They were on their way home from the Governor's, when suddenly a short +man, in a Slavophil national dress, leaped out of a trap that was +passing them, and crying, 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' dashed up to Bazarov. + +'Ah! it's you, Herr Sitnikov,' observed Bazarov, still stepping along +on the pavement; 'by what chance did you come here?' + +'Fancy, absolutely by chance,' he replied, and returning to the trap, +he waved his hand several times, and shouted, 'Follow, follow us! My +father had business here,' he went on, hopping across the gutter, 'and +so he asked me.... I heard to-day of your arrival, and have already +been to see you....' (The friends did, in fact, on returning to their +room, find there a card, with the corners turned down, bearing the name +of Sitnikov, on one side in French, on the other in Slavonic +characters.) 'I hope you are not coming from the Governor's?' + +'It's no use to hope; we come straight from him.' + +'Ah! in that case I will call on him too.... Yevgeny Vassilyitch, +introduce me to your ... to the ...' + +'Sitnikov, Kirsanov,' mumbled Bazarov, not stopping. + +'I am greatly flattered,' began Sitnikov, walking sidewise, smirking, +and hurriedly pulling off his really over-elegant gloves. 'I have heard +so much.... I am an old acquaintance of Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and, I may +say--his disciple. I am indebted to him for my regeneration....' + +Arkady looked at Bazarov's disciple. There was an expression of +excitement and dulness imprinted on the small but pleasant features of +his well-groomed face; his small eyes, that seemed squeezed in, had a +fixed and uneasy look, and his laugh, too, was uneasy--a sort of short, +wooden laugh. + +'Would you believe it,' he pursued, 'when Yevgeny Vassilyitch for the +first time said before me that it was not right to accept any +authorities, I felt such enthusiasm ... as though my eyes were opened! +Here, I thought, at last I have found a man! By the way, Yevgeny +Vassilyitch, you positively must come to know a lady here, who is +really capable of understanding you, and for whom your visit would be a +real festival; you have heard of her, I suppose?' + +'Who is it?' Bazarov brought out unwillingly. + +'Kukshina, _Eudoxie_, Evdoksya Kukshin. She's a remarkable nature, +_emancipee_ in the true sense of the word, an advanced woman. Do you +know what? We'll all go together to see her now. She lives only two +steps from here. We will have lunch there. I suppose you have not +lunched yet?' + +'No; not yet.' + +'Well, that's capital. She has separated, you understand, from her +husband; she is not dependent on any one.' + +'Is she pretty?' Bazarov cut in. + +'N-no, one couldn't say that.' + +'Then, what the devil are you asking us to see her for?' + +'Fie; you must have your joke.... She will give us a bottle of +champagne.' + +'Oh, that's it. One can see the practical man at once. By the way, is +your father still in the gin business?' + +'Yes,' said Sitnikov, hurriedly, and he gave a shrill spasmodic laugh. +'Well? Will you come?' + +'I don't really know.' + +'You wanted to see people, go along,' said Arkady in an undertone. + +'And what do you say to it, Mr. Kirsanov?' Sitnikov put in. 'You must +come too; we can't go without you.' + +'But how can we burst in upon her all at once?' + +'That's no matter. Kukshina's a brick!' + +'There will be a bottle of champagne?' asked Bazarov. + +'Three!' cried Sitnikov; 'that I answer for.' + +'What with?' + +'My own head.' + +'Your father's purse would be better. However, we are coming.' + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +The small gentleman's house in the Moscow style, in which Avdotya +Nikitishna, otherwise Evdoksya, Kukshin, lived, was in one of the +streets of X----, which had been lately burnt down; it is well known +that our provincial towns are burnt down every five years. At the door, +above a visiting card nailed on all askew, there was a bell-handle to +be seen, and in the hall the visitors were met by some one, not exactly +a servant, nor exactly a companion, in a cap--unmistakable tokens of +the progressive tendencies of the lady of the house. Sitnikov inquired +whether Avdotya Nikitishna was at home. + +'Is that you, _Victor_?' sounded a shrill voice from the adjoining +room. 'Come in.' + +The woman in the cap disappeared at once. + +'I'm not alone,' observed Sitnikov, with a sharp look at Arkady and +Bazarov as he briskly pulled off his overcoat, beneath which appeared +something of the nature of a coachman's velvet jacket. + +'No matter,' answered the voice. '_Entrez_.' + +The young men went in. The room into which they walked was more like a +working study than a drawing-room. Papers, letters, fat numbers of +Russian journals, for the most part uncut, lay at random on the dusty +tables; white cigarette ends lay scattered in every direction. On a +leather-covered sofa, a lady, still young, was half reclining. Her fair +hair was rather dishevelled; she wore a silk gown, not perfectly tidy, +heavy bracelets on her short arms, and a lace handkerchief on her head. +She got up from the sofa, and carelessly drawing a velvet cape trimmed +with yellowish ermine over her shoulders, she said languidly, +'Good-morning, _Victor_,' and pressed Sitnikov's hand. + +'Bazarov, Kirsanov,' he announced abruptly in imitation of Bazarov. + +'Delighted,' answered Madame Kukshin, and fixing on Bazarov a pair of +round eyes, between which was a forlorn little turned-up red nose, 'I +know you,' she added, and pressed his hand too. + +Bazarov scowled. There was nothing repulsive in the little plain person +of the emancipated woman; but the expression of her face produced a +disagreeable effect on the spectator. One felt impelled to ask her, +'What's the matter; are you hungry? Or bored? Or shy? What are you in a +fidget about?' Both she and Sitnikov had always the same uneasy air. +She was extremely unconstrained, and at the same time awkward; she +obviously regarded herself as a good-natured, simple creature, and all +the while, whatever she did, it always struck one that it was not just +what she wanted to do; everything with her seemed, as children say, +done on purpose, that's to say, not simply, not naturally. + +'Yes, yes, I know you, Bazarov,' she repeated. (She had the +habit--peculiar to many provincial and Moscow ladies--of calling men by +their surnames from the first day of acquaintance with them.) 'Will you +have a cigar?' + +'A cigar's all very well,' put in Sitnikov, who by now was lolling in +an armchair, his legs in the air; 'but give us some lunch. We're +awfully hungry; and tell them to bring us up a little bottle of +champagne.' + +'Sybarite,' commented Evdoksya, and she laughed. (When she laughed the +gum showed above her upper teeth.) 'Isn't it true, Bazarov; he's a +Sybarite?' + +'I like comfort in life,' Sitnikov brought out, with dignity. 'That +does not prevent my being a Liberal.' + +'No, it does; it does prevent it!' cried Evdoksya. She gave directions, +however, to her maid, both as regards the lunch and the champagne. + +'What do you think about it?' she added, turning to Bazarov. 'I'm +persuaded you share my opinion.' + +'Well, no,' retorted Bazarov; 'a piece of meat's better than a piece of +bread even from the chemical point of view.' + +'You are studying chemistry? That is my passion. I've even invented a +new sort of composition myself.' + +'A composition? You?' + +'Yes. And do you know for what purpose? To make dolls' heads so that +they shouldn't break. I'm practical, too, yon see. But everything's not +quite ready yet. I've still to read Liebig. By the way, have you read +Kislyakov's article on Female Labour, in the _Moscow Gazette_? Read it +please. You're interested in the woman question, I suppose? And in the +schools too? What does your friend do? What is his name?' + +Madame Kukshin shed her questions one after another with affected +negligence, not waiting for an answer; spoilt children talk so to their +nurses. + +'My name's Arkady Nikolaitch Kirsanov,' said Arkady, 'and I'm doing +nothing.' + +Evdoksya giggled. 'How charming! What, don't you smoke? Victor, do you +know, I'm very angry with you.' + +'What for?' + +'They tell me you've begun singing the praises of George Sand again. A +retrograde woman, and nothing else! How can people compare her with +Emerson! She hasn't an idea on education, nor physiology, nor anything. +She'd never, I'm persuaded, heard of embryology, and in these +days--what can be done without that?' (Evdoksya even threw up her +hands.) 'Ah, what a wonderful article Elisyevitch has written on that +subject! He's a gentleman of genius.' (Evdoksya constantly made use of +the word 'gentleman' instead of the word 'man.') 'Bazarov, sit by me on +the sofa. You don't know, perhaps, I'm awfully afraid of you.' + +'Why so? Allow me to ask.' + +'You're a dangerous gentleman; you're such a critic. Good God! yes! +why, how absurd, I'm talking like some country lady. I really am a +country lady, though. I manage my property myself; and only fancy, my +bailiff Erofay's a wonderful type, quite like Cooper's Pathfinder; +something in him so spontaneous! I've come to settle here finally; it's +an intolerable town, isn't it? But what's one to do?' + +'The town's like every town,' Bazarov remarked coolly. + +'All its interests are so petty, that's what's so awful! I used to +spend the winters in Moscow ... but now my lawful spouse, Monsieur +Kukshin's residing there. And besides, Moscow nowadays ... there, I +don't know--it's not the same as it was. I'm thinking of going abroad; +last year I was on the point of setting off.' + +'To Paris, I suppose?' queried Bazarov. + +'To Paris and to Heidelberg.' + +'Why to Heidelberg?' + +'How can you ask? Why, Bunsen's there!' + +To this Bazarov could find no reply. + +'_Pierre_ Sapozhnikov ... do you know him?' + +'No, I don't.' + +'Not know _Pierre_ Sapozhnikov ... he's always at Lidia Hestatov's.' + +'I don't know her either.' + +'Well, it was he undertook to escort me. Thank God, I'm independent; +I've no children.... What was that I said: _thank God!_ It's no matter +though.' + +Evdoksya rolled a cigarette up between her fingers, which were brown +with tobacco stains, put it to her tongue, licked it up, and began +smoking. The maid came in with a tray. + +'Ah, here's lunch! Will you have an appetiser first? Victor, open the +bottle; that's in your line.' + +'Yes, it's in my line,' muttered Sitnikov, and again he gave vent to +the same convulsive laugh. + +'Are there any pretty women here?' inquired Bazarov, as he drank off a +third glass. + +'Yes, there are,' answered Evdoksya; 'but they're all such empty-headed +creatures. _Mon amie_, Odintsova, for instance, is nice-looking. It's a +pity her reputation's rather doubtful.... That wouldn't matter, though, +but she's no independence in her views, no width, nothing ... of all +that. The whole system of education wants changing. I've thought a +great deal about it, our women are very badly educated.' + +'There's no doing anything with them,' put in Sitnikov; 'one ought to +despise them, and I do despise them fully and completely!' (The +possibility of feeling and expressing contempt was the most agreeable +sensation to Sitnikov; he used to attack women in especial, never +suspecting that it was to be his fate a few months later to be cringing +before his wife merely because she had been born a princess +Durdoleosov.) 'Not a single one of them would be capable of +understanding our conversation; not a single one deserves to be spoken +of by serious men like us!' + +'But there's not the least need for them to understand our +conversation,' observed Bazarov. + +'Whom do you mean?' put in Evdoksya. + +'Pretty women.' + +'What? Do you adopt Proudhon's ideas, then?' + +Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. 'I don't adopt any one's ideas; I +have my own.' + +'Damn all authorities!' shouted Sitnikov, delighted to have a chance of +expressing himself boldly before the man he slavishly admired. + +'But even Macaulay,' Madame Kukshin was beginning ... + +'Damn Macaulay,' thundered Sitnikov. 'Are you going to stand up for the +silly hussies?' + +'For silly hussies, no, but for the rights of women, which I have sworn +to defend to the last drop of my blood.' + +'Damn!'--but here Sitnikov stopped. 'But I don't deny them,' he said. + +'No, I see you're a Slavophil.' + +'No, I'm not a Slavophil, though, of course ...' + +'No, no, no! You are a Slavophil. You're an advocate of patriarchal +despotism. You want to have the whip in your hand!' + +'A whip's an excellent thing,' remarked Bazarov; 'but we've got to the +last drop.' + +'Of what?' interrupted Evdoksya. + +'Of champagne, most honoured Avdotya Nikitishna, of champagne--not of +your blood.' + +'I can never listen calmly when women are attacked,' pursued Evdoksya. +'It's awful, awful. Instead of attacking them, you'd better read +Michelet's book, _De l'amour_. That's exquisite! Gentlemen, let us talk +of love,' added Evdoksya, letting her arm fall languidly on the rumpled +sofa cushion. + +A sudden silence followed. 'No, why should we talk of love,' said +Bazarov; 'but you mentioned just now a Madame Odintsov ... That was +what you called her, I think? Who is that lady?' + +'She's charming, charming!' piped Sitnikov. 'I will introduce you. +Clever, rich, a widow. It's a pity, she's not yet advanced enough; she +ought to see more of our Evdoksya. I drink to your health, _Evdoxie!_ +Let us clink glasses! _Et toc, et toc, et tin-tin-tin! Et toc, et toc, +et tin-tin-tin!!!_' + +'Victor, you're a wretch.' + +The lunch dragged on a long while. The first bottle of champagne was +followed by another, a third, and even a fourth.... Evdoksya chattered +without pause; Sitnikov seconded her. They had much discussion upon the +question whether marriage was a prejudice or a crime, and whether men +were born equal or not, and precisely what individuality consists in. +Things came at last to Evdoksya, flushed from the wine she had drunk, +tapping with her flat finger-tips on the keys of a discordant piano, +and beginning to sing in a hoarse voice, first gipsy songs, and then +Seymour Schiff's song, 'Granada lies slumbering'; while Sitnikov tied a +scarf round his head, and represented the dying lover at the words-- + + 'And thy lips to mine + In burning kiss entwine.' + +Arkady could not stand it at last. 'Gentlemen, it's getting something +like Bedlam,' he remarked aloud. Bazarov, who had at rare intervals put +in an ironical word in the conversation--he paid more attention to the +champagne--gave a loud yawn, got up, and, without taking leave of their +hostess, he walked off with Arkady. Sitnikov jumped up and followed +them. + +'Well, what do you think of her?' he inquired, skipping obsequiously +from right to left of them. 'I told you, you see, a remarkable +personality! If we only had more women like that! She is, in her own +way, an expression of the highest morality.' + +'And is that establishment of your governor's an expression of the +highest morality too?' observed Bazarov, pointing to a ginshop which +they were passing at that instant. + +Sitnikov again went off into a shrill laugh. He was greatly ashamed of +his origin, and did not know whether to feel flattered or offended at +Bazarov's unexpected familiarity. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +A few days later the ball at the Governor's took place. Matvy Ilyitch +was the real 'hero of the occasion.' The marshal of nobility declared +to all and each that he had come simply out of respect for him; while +the Governor, even at the ball, even while he remained perfectly +motionless, was still 'making arrangements.' The affability of Matvy +Ilyitch's demeanour could only be equalled by its dignity. He was +gracious to all, to some with a shade of disgust, to others with a +shade of respect; he was all bows and smiles '_en vrai chevalier +francais_' before the ladies, and was continually giving vent to a +hearty, sonorous, unshared laugh, such as befits a high official. He +slapped Arkady on the back, and called him loudly 'nephew'; vouchsafed +Bazarov--who was attired in a rather old evening coat--a sidelong +glance in passing--absent but condescending--and an indistinct but +affable grunt, in which nothing could be distinguished but 'I ...' and +'very much'; gave Sitnikov a finger and a smile, though with his head +already averted; even to Madame Kukshin, who made her appearance at the +ball with dirty gloves, no crinoline, and a bird of Paradise in her +hair, he said '_enchante_.' There were crowds of people, and no lack of +dancing men; the civilians were for the most part standing close along +the walls, but the officers danced assiduously, especially one of them +who had spent six weeks in Paris, where he had mastered various daring +interjections of the kind of--'_zut_,' '_Ah, fichtr-re_,' '_pst, pst, +mon bibi_,' and such. He pronounced them to perfection with genuine +Parisian _chic_, and at the same time he said '_si j'aurais_' for '_si +j'avais_,' '_absolument_' in the sense of 'absolutely,' expressed +himself, in fact, in that Great Russo-French jargon which the French +ridicule so when they have no reason for assuring us that we speak +French like angels, '_comme des anges_.' + +Arkady, as we are aware, danced badly, while Bazarov did not dance at +all; they both took up their position in a corner; Sitnikov joined +himself on to them, with an expression of contemptuous scorn on his +face, and giving vent to spiteful comments, he looked insolently about +him, and seemed to be really enjoying himself. Suddenly his face +changed, and turning to Arkady, he said, with some show of +embarrassment it seemed, 'Odintsova is here!' + +Arkady looked round, and saw a tall woman in a black dress standing at +the door of the room. He was struck by the dignity of her carriage. Her +bare arms lay gracefully beside her slender waist; gracefully some +light sprays of fuchsia drooped from her shining hair on to her sloping +shoulders; her clear eyes looked out from under a rather overhanging +white brow, with a tranquil and intelligent expression--tranquil it was +precisely, not pensive--and on her lips was a scarcely perceptible +smile. There was a kind of gracious and gentle force about her face. + +'Do you know her?' Arkady asked Sitnikov. + +'Intimately. Would you like me to introduce you?' + +'Please ... after this quadrille.' + +Bazarov's attention, too, was directed to Madame Odintsov. + +'That's a striking figure,' he remarked. 'Not like the other females.' + +After waiting till the end of the quadrille, Sitnikov led Arkady up to +Madame Odintsov; but he hardly seemed to be intimately acquainted with +her; he was embarrassed in his sentences, while she looked at him in +some surprise. But her face assumed an expression of pleasure when she +heard Arkady's surname. She asked him whether he was not the son of +Nikolai Petrovitch. + +'Yes.' + +'I have seen your father twice, and have heard a great deal about him,' +she went on; 'I am glad to make your acquaintance.' + +At that instant some adjutant flew up to her and begged for a +quadrille. She consented. + +'Do you dance then?' asked Arkady respectfully. + +'Yes, I dance. Why do you suppose I don't dance? Do you think I am too +old?' + +'Really, how could I possibly.... But in that case, let me ask you for +a mazurka.' + +Madame Odintsov smiled graciously. 'Certainly,' she said, and she +looked at Arkady not exactly with an air of superiority, but as married +sisters look at very young brothers. Madame Odintsov was a little older +than Arkady--she was twenty-nine--but in her presence he felt himself a +schoolboy, a little student, so that the difference in age between them +seemed of more consequence. Matvy Ilyitch approached her with a +majestic air and ingratiating speeches. Arkady moved away, but he still +watched her; he could not take his eyes off her even during the +quadrille. She talked with equal ease to her partner and to the grand +official, softly turned her head and eyes, and twice laughed softly. +Her nose--like almost all Russian noses--was a little thick; and her +complexion was not perfectly clear; Arkady made up his mind, for all +that, that he had never before met such an attractive woman. He could +not get the sound of her voice out of his ears; the very folds of her +dress seemed to hang upon her differently from all the rest--more +gracefully and amply--and her movements were distinguished by a +peculiar smoothness and naturalness. + +Arkady felt some timidity in his heart when at the first sounds of the +mazurka he began to sit it out beside his partner; he had prepared to +enter into a conversation with her, but he only passed his hand through +his hair, and could not find a single word to say. But his timidity and +agitation did not last long; Madame Odintsov's tranquillity gained upon +him too; before a quarter of an hour had passed he was telling her +freely about his father, his uncle, his life in Petersburg and in the +country. Madame Odintsov listened to him with courteous sympathy, +slightly opening and closing her fan; his talk was broken off when +partners came for her; Sitnikov, among others, twice asked her. She +came back, sat down again, took up her fan, and her bosom did not even +heave more rapidly, while Arkady fell to chattering again, filled +through and through by the happiness of being near her, talking to her, +looking at her eyes, her lovely brow, all her sweet, dignified, clever +face. She said little, but her words showed a knowledge of life; from +some of her observations Arkady gathered that this young woman had +already felt and thought much.... + +'Who is that you were standing with?' she asked him, 'when Mr. Sitnikov +brought you to me?' + +'Did you notice him?' Arkady asked in his turn. 'He has a splendid +face, hasn't he? That's Bazarov, my friend.' + +Arkady fell to discussing 'his friend.' He spoke of him in such detail, +and with such enthusiasm, that Madame Odintsov turned towards him and +looked attentively at him. Meanwhile, the mazurka was drawing to a +close. Arkady felt sorry to part from his partner; he had spent nearly +an hour so happily with her! He had, it is true, during the whole time +continually felt as though she were condescending to him, as though he +ought to be grateful to her ... but young hearts are not weighed down +by that feeling. + +The music stopped. '_Merci_,' said Madame Odintsov, getting up. 'You +promised to come and see me; bring your friend with you. I shall be +very curious to see the man who has the courage to believe in nothing.' + +The Governor came up to Madame Odintsov, announced that supper was +ready, and, with a careworn face, offered her his arm. As she went +away, she turned to give a last smile and bow to Arkady. He bowed low, +looked after her (how graceful her figure seemed to him, draped in the +greyish lustre of the black silk!), and thinking, 'This minute she has +forgotten my existence,' was conscious of an exquisite humility in his +soul. + +'Well?' Bazarov questioned him, directly he had gone back to him in the +corner. 'Did you have a good time? A gentleman has just been talking to +me about that lady; he said, "She's--oh, fie! fie!" but I fancy the +fellow was a fool. What do you think, what is she?--oh, fie! fie!' + +'I don't quite understand that definition,' answered Arkady. + +'Oh, my! What innocence!' + +'In that case, I don't understand the gentleman you quote. Madame +Odintsov is very sweet, no doubt, but she behaves so coldly and +severely, that....' + +'Still waters ... you know!' put in Bazarov. 'That's just what gives it +piquancy. You like ices, I expect?' + +'Perhaps,' muttered Arkady. 'I can't give an opinion about that. She +wishes to make your acquaintance, and has asked me to bring you to see +her.' + +'I can imagine how you've described me! But you did very well. Take me. +Whatever she may be--whether she's simply a provincial lioness, or +"advanced" after Kukshina's fashion--any way she's got a pair of +shoulders such as I've not set eyes on for a long while.' + +Arkady was wounded by Bazarov's cynicism, but--as often happens--he +reproached his friend not precisely for what he did not like in him ... + +'Why are you unwilling to allow freethinking in women?' he said in a +low voice. + +'Because, my boy, as far as my observations go, the only freethinkers +among women are frights.' + +The conversation was cut short at this point. Both the young men went +away immediately after supper. They were pursued by a nervously +malicious, but somewhat faint-hearted laugh from Madame Kukshin; her +vanity had been deeply wounded by neither of them having paid any +attention to her. She stayed later than any one at the ball, and at +four o'clock in the morning she was dancing a polka-mazurka with +Sitnikov in the Parisian style. This edifying spectacle was the final +event of the Governor's ball. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +'Let's see what species of mammalia this specimen belongs to,' Bazarov +said to Arkady the following day, as they mounted the staircase of the +hotel in which Madame Odintsov was staying. 'I scent out something +wrong here.' + +'I'm surprised at you!' cried Arkady. 'What? You, you, Bazarov, +clinging to the narrow morality, which ...' + +'What a funny fellow you are!' Bazarov cut him short, carelessly. +'Don't you know that "something wrong" means "something right" in my +dialect and for me? It's an advantage for me, of course. Didn't you +tell me yourself this morning that she made a strange marriage, though, +to my mind, to marry a rich old man is by no means a strange thing to +do, but, on the contrary, very sensible. I don't believe the gossip of +the town; but I should like to think, as our cultivated Governor says, +that it's well-grounded.' + +Arkady made no answer, and knocked at the door of the apartments. A +young servant in livery, conducted the two friends in to a large room, +badly furnished, like all rooms in Russian hotels, but filled with +flowers. Soon Madame Odintsov herself appeared in a simple morning +dress. She seemed still younger by the light of the spring sunshine. +Arkady presented Bazarov, and noticed with secret amazement that he +seemed embarrassed, while Madame Odintsov remained perfectly tranquil, +as she had been the previous day. Bazarov himself was conscious of +being embarrassed, and was irritated by it. 'Here's a go!--frightened +of a petticoat!' he thought, and lolling, quite like Sitnikov, in an +easy-chair, he began talking with an exaggerated appearance of ease, +while Madame Odintsov kept her clear eyes fixed on him. + +Anna Sergyevna Odintsov was the daughter of Sergay Nikolaevitch Loktev, +notorious for his personal beauty, his speculations, and his gambling +propensities, who after cutting a figure and making a sensation for +fifteen years in Petersburg and Moscow, finished by ruining himself +completely at cards, and was forced to retire to the country, where, +however, he soon after died, leaving a very small property to his two +daughters--Anna, a girl of twenty, and Katya, a child of twelve. Their +mother, who came of an impoverished line of princes--the H----s-- had +died at Petersburg when her husband was in his heydey. Anna's position +after her father's death was very difficult. The brilliant education +she had received in Petersburg had not fitted her for putting up with +the cares of domestic life and economy,--for an obscure existence in +the country. She knew positively no one in the whole neighbourhood, and +there was no one she could consult. Her father had tried to avoid all +contact with the neighbours; he despised them in his way, and they +despised him in theirs. She did not lose her head, however, and +promptly sent for a sister of her mother's Princess Avdotya Stepanovna +H----, a spiteful and arrogant old lady, who, on installing herself in +her niece's house, appropriated all the best rooms for her own use, +scolded and grumbled from morning till night, and would not go a walk +even in the garden unattended by her one serf, a surly footman in a +threadbare pea-green livery with light blue trimming and a +three-cornered hat. Anna put up patiently with all her aunt's whims, +gradually set to work on her sister's education, and was, it seemed, +already getting reconciled to the idea of wasting her life in the +wilds.... But destiny had decreed another fate for her. She chanced to +be seen by Odintsov, a very wealthy man of forty-six, an eccentric +hypochondriac, stout, heavy, and sour, but not stupid, and not +ill-natured; he fell in love with her, and offered her his hand. She +consented to become his wife, and he lived six years with her, and on +his death settled all his property upon her. Anna Sergyevna remained in +the country for nearly a year after his death; then she went abroad +with her sister, but only stopped in Germany; she got tired of it, and +came back to live at her favourite Nikolskoe, which was nearly thirty +miles from the town of X----. There she had a magnificent, splendidly +furnished house and a beautiful garden, with conservatories; her late +husband had spared no expense to gratify his fancies. Anna Sergyevna +went very rarely to the town, generally only on business, and even then +she did not stay long. She was not liked in the province; there had +been a fearful outcry at her marriage with Odintsov, all sorts of +fictions were told about her; it was asserted that she had helped her +father in his cardsharping tricks, and even that she had gone abroad +for excellent reasons, that it had been necessary to conceal the +lamentable consequences ... 'You understand?' the indignant gossips +would wind up. 'She has gone through the fire,' was said of her; to +which a noted provincial wit usually added: 'And through all the other +elements?' All this talk reached her; but she turned a deaf ear to it; +there was much independence and a good deal of determination in her +character. + +Madame Odintsov sat leaning back in her easy-chair, and listened with +folded hands to Bazarov. He, contrary to his habit, was talking a good +deal, and obviously trying to interest her--again a surprise for +Arkady. He could not make up his mind whether Bazarov was attaining his +object. It was difficult to conjecture from Anna Sergyevna's face what +impression was being made on her; it retained the same expression, +gracious and refined; her beautiful eyes were lighted up by attention, +but by quiet attention. Bazarov's bad manners had impressed her +unpleasantly for the first minutes of the visit like a bad smell or a +discordant sound; but she saw at once that he was nervous, and that +even flattered her. Nothing was repulsive to her but vulgarity, and no +one could have accused Bazarov of vulgarity. Arkady was fated to meet +with surprises that day. He had expected that Bazarov would talk to a +clever woman like Madame Odintsov about his opinions and his views; she +had herself expressed a desire to listen to the man 'who dares to have +no belief in anything'; but, instead of that, Bazarov talked about +medicine, about homoeopathy, and about botany. It turned out that +Madame Odintsov had not wasted her time in solitude; she had read a +good many excellent books, and spoke herself in excellent Russian. She +turned the conversation upon music; but noticing that Bazarov did not +appreciate art, she quietly brought it back to botany, even though +Arkady was just launching into a discourse upon the significance of +national melodies. Madame Odintsov treated him as though he were a +younger brother; she seemed to appreciate his good-nature and youthful +simplicity--and that was all. For over three hours, a lively +conversation was kept up, ranging freely over various subjects. + +The friends at last got up and began to take leave. Anna Sergyevna +looked cordially at them, held out her beautiful, white hand to both, +and, after a moment's thought, said with a doubtful but delightful +smile. 'If you are not afraid of being dull, gentlemen, come and see me +at Nikolskoe.' + +'Oh, Anna Sergyevna,' cried Arkady, 'I shall think it the greatness +happiness ...' + +'And you, Monsieur Bazarov?' + +Bazarov only bowed, and a last surprise was in store for Arkady; he +noticed that his friend was blushing. + +'Well?' he said to him in the street; 'are you still of the same +opinion--that she's ...' + +'Who can tell? See how correct she is!' retorted Bazarov; and after a +brief pause he added, 'She's a perfect grand-duchess, a royal +personage. She only needs a train on behind, and a crown on her head.' + +'Our grand-duchesses don't talk Russian like that,' remarked Arkady. + +'She's seen ups and downs, my dear boy; she's known what it is to be +hard up!' + +'Any way, she's charming,' observed Arkady. + +'What a magnificent body!' pursued Bazarov. 'Shouldn't I like to see it +on the dissecting-table.' + +'Hush, for mercy's sake, Yevgeny! that's beyond everything.' + +'Well, don't get angry, you baby. I meant it's first-rate. We must go +to stay with her.' + +'When?' + +'Well, why not the day after to-morrow. What is there to do here? Drink +champagne with Kukshina. Listen to your cousin, the Liberal +dignitary?... Let's be off the day after to-morrow. By the way, too--my +father's little place is not far from there. This Nikolskoe's on the +S---- road, isn't it?' + +'Yes.' + +'Optime, why hesitate? leave that to fools and prigs! I say, what a +splendid body!' + +Three days later the two friends were driving along the road to +Nikolskoe. The day was bright, and not too hot, and the sleek +posting-horses trotted smartly along, switching their tied and plaited +tails. Arkady looked at the road, and not knowing why, he smiled. + +'Congratulate me,' cried Bazarov suddenly, 'to-day's the 22nd of June, +my guardian angel's day. Let's see how he will watch over me. To-day +they expect me home,' he added, dropping his voice.... 'Well, they can +go on expecting.... What does it matter!' + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +The country-house in which Anna Sergyevna lived stood on an exposed +hill at no great distance from a yellow stone church with a green roof, +white columns, and a fresco over the principal entrance representing +the 'Resurrection of Christ' in the 'Italian' style. Sprawling in the +foreground of the picture was a swarthy warrior in a helmet, specially +conspicuous for his rotund contours. Behind the church a long village +stretched in two rows, with chimneys peeping out here and there above +the thatched roofs. The manor-house was built in the same style as the +church, the style known among us as that of Alexander; the house too +was painted yellow, and had a green roof, and white columns, and a +pediment with an escutcheon on it. The architect had designed both +buildings with the approval of the deceased Odintsov, who could not +endure--as he expressed it--idle and arbitrary innovations. The house +was enclosed on both sides by the dark trees of an old garden; an +avenue of lopped pines led up to the entrance. + +Our friends were met in the hall by two tall footmen in livery; one of +them at once ran for the steward. The steward, a stout man in a black +dress coat, promptly appeared and led the visitors by a staircase +covered with rugs to a special room, in which two bedsteads were +already prepared for them with all necessaries for the toilet. It was +clear that order reigned supreme in the house; everything was clean, +everywhere there was a peculiar delicate fragrance, just as there is in +the reception rooms of ministers. + +'Anna Sergyevna asks you to come to her in half-an-hour,' the steward +announced; 'will there be orders to give meanwhile?' + +'No orders,' answered Bazarov; 'perhaps you will be so good as to +trouble yourself to bring me a glass of vodka.' + +'Yes, sir,' said the steward, looking in some perplexity, and he +withdrew, his boots creaking as he walked. + +'What _grand genre_!' remarked Bazarov. 'That's what it's called in +your set, isn't it? She's a grand-duchess, and that's all about it.' + +'A nice grand-duchess,' retorted Arkady, 'at the very first meeting she +invited such great aristocrats as you and me to stay with her.' + +'Especially me, a future doctor, and a doctor's son, and a village +sexton's grandson.... You know, I suppose, I'm the grandson of a +sexton? Like the great Speransky,' added Bazarov after a brief pause, +contracting his lips. 'At any rate she likes to be comfortable; oh, +doesn't she, this lady! Oughtn't we to put on evening dress?' + +Arkady only shrugged his shoulders ... but he too was conscious of a +little nervousness. + +Half-an-hour later Bazarov and Arkady went together into the +drawing-room. It was a large lofty room, furnished rather luxuriously +but without particularly good taste. Heavy expensive furniture stood in +the ordinary stiff arrangement along the walls, which were covered with +cinnamon-coloured paper with gold flowers on it; Odintsov had ordered +the furniture from Moscow through a friend and agent of his, a spirit +merchant. Over a sofa in the centre of one wall hung a portrait of a +faded light-haired man--and it seemed to look with displeasure at the +visitors. 'It must be the late lamented,' Bazarov whispered to Arkady, +and turning up his nose, he added, 'Hadn't we better bolt ...?' But at +that instant the lady of the house entered. She wore a light barege +dress; her hair smoothly combed back behind her ears gave a girlish +expression to her pure and fresh face. + +'Thank you for keeping your promise,' she began. 'You must stay a +little while with me; it's really not bad here. I will introduce you to +my sister; she plays the piano well. That is a matter of indifference +to you, Monsieur Bazarov; but you, I think, Monsieur Kirsanov, are fond +of music. Besides my sister I have an old aunt living with me, and one +of our neighbours comes in sometimes to play cards; that makes up all +our circle. And now let us sit down.' + +Madame Odintsov delivered all this little speech with peculiar +precision, as though she had learned it by heart; then she turned to +Arkady. It appeared that her mother had known Arkady's mother, and had +even been her confidante in her love for Nikolai Petrovitch. Arkady +began talking with great warmth of his dead mother; while Bazarov fell +to turning over albums. 'What a tame cat I'm getting!' he was thinking +to himself. + +A beautiful greyhound with a blue collar on, ran into the drawing-room, +tapping on the floor with his paws, and after him entered a girl of +eighteen, black-haired and dark-skinned, with a rather round but +pleasing face, and small dark eyes. In her hands she held a basket +filled with flowers. + +'This is my Katya,' said Madame Odintsov, indicating her with a motion +of her head. Katya made a slight curtsey, placed herself beside her +sister, and began picking out flowers. The greyhound, whose name was +Fifi, went up to both of the visitors, in turn wagging his tail, and +thrusting his cold nose into their hands. + +'Did you pick all that yourself?' asked Madame Odintsov. + +'Yes,' answered Katya. + +'Is auntie coming to tea?' + +'Yes.' + +When Katya spoke, she had a very charming smile, sweet, timid, and +candid, and looked up from under her eyebrows with a sort of humorous +severity. Everything about her was still young and undeveloped; the +voice, and the bloom on her whole face, and the rosy hands, with white +palms, and the rather narrow shoulders.... She was constantly blushing +and getting out of breath. + +Madame Odintsov turned to Bazarov. 'You are looking at pictures from +politeness, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' she began. That does not interest +you. You had better come nearer to us, and let us have a discussion +about something.' + +Bazarov went closer. 'What subject have you decided upon for +discussion?' he said. + +'What you like. I warn you, I am dreadfully argumentative.' + +'You?' + +'Yes. That seems to surprise you. Why?' + +'Because, as far as I can judge, you have a calm, cool character, and +one must be impulsive to be argumentative.' + +'How can you have had time to understand me so soon? In the first +place, I am impatient and obstinate--you should ask Katya; and +secondly, I am very easily carried away.' + +Bazarov looked at Anna Sergyevna. 'Perhaps; you must know best. And so +you are inclined for a discussion--by all means. I was looking through +the views of the Saxon mountains in your album, and you remarked that +that couldn't interest me. You said so, because you suppose me to have +no feeling for art, and as a fact I haven't any; but these views might +be interesting to me from a geological standpoint, for the formation of +the mountains, for instance.' + +'Excuse me; but as a geologist, you would sooner have recourse to a +book, to a special work on the subject, and not to a drawing.' + +'The drawing shows me at a glance what would be spread over ten pages +in a book.' + +Anna Sergyevna was silent for a little. + +'And so you haven't the least artistic feeling?' she observed, putting +her elbow on the table, and by that very action bringing her face +nearer to Bazarov. 'How can you get on without it?' + +'Why, what is it wanted for, may I ask?' + +'Well, at least to enable one to study and understand men.' + +Bazarov smiled. 'In the first place, experience of life does that; and +in the second, I assure you, studying separate individuals is not worth +the trouble. All people are like one another, in soul as in body; each +of us has brain, spleen, heart, and lungs made alike; and the so-called +moral qualities are the same in all; the slight variations are of no +importance. A single human specimen is sufficient to judge of all by. +People are like trees in a forest; no botanist would think of studying +each individual birch-tree.' + +Katya, who was arranging the flowers, one at a time in a leisurely +fashion, lifted her eyes to Bazarov with a puzzled look, and meeting +his rapid and careless glance, she crimsoned up to her ears. Anna +Sergyevna shook her head. + +'The trees in a forest,' she repeated. 'Then according to you there is +no difference between the stupid and the clever person, between the +good-natured and ill-natured?' + +'No, there is a difference, just as between the sick and the healthy. +The lungs of a consumptive patient are not in the same condition as +yours and mine, though they are made on the same plan. We know +approximately what physical diseases come from; moral diseases come +from bad education, from all the nonsense people's heads are stuffed +with from childhood up, from the defective state of society; in short, +reform society, and there will be no diseases.' + +Bazarov said all this with an air, as though he were all the while +thinking to himself, 'Believe me or not, as you like, it's all one to +me!' He slowly passed his fingers over his whiskers, while his eyes +strayed about the room. + +'And you conclude,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'that when society is +reformed, there will be no stupid nor wicked people?' + +'At any rate, in a proper organisation of society, it will be +absolutely the same whether a man is stupid or clever, wicked or good.' + +'Yes, I understand; they will all have the same spleen.' + +'Precisely so, madam.' + +Madame Odintsov turned to Arkady. 'And what is your opinion, Arkady +Nikolaevitch?' + +'I agree with Yevgeny,' he answered. + +Katya looked up at him from under her eyelids. + +'You amaze me, gentlemen,' commented Madame Odintsov, 'but we will have +more talk together. But now I hear my aunt coming to tea; we must spare +her.' + +Anna Sergyevna's aunt, Princess H----, a thin little woman with a +pinched-up face, drawn together like a fist, and staring +ill-natured-looking eyes under a grey front, came in, and, scarcely +bowing to the guests, she dropped into a wide velvet covered arm-chair, +upon which no one but herself was privileged to sit. Katya put a +footstool under her feet; the old lady did not thank her, did not even +look at her, only her hands shook under the yellow shawl, which almost +covered her feeble body. The Princess liked yellow; her cap, too, had +bright yellow ribbons. + +'How have you slept, aunt?' inquired Madame Odintsov, raising her +voice. + +'That dog in here again,' the old lady muttered in reply, and noticing +Fifi was making two hesitating steps in her direction, she cried, +'Ss----ss!' + +Katya called Fifi and opened the door for him. + +Fifi rushed out delighted, in the expectation of being taken out for a +walk; but when he was left alone outside the door, he began scratching +and whining. The princess scowled. Katya was about to go out.... + +'I expect tea is ready,' said Madame Odintsov. + +'Come gentlemen; aunt, will you go in to tea?' + +The princess got up from her chair without speaking and led the way out +of the drawing-room. They all followed her in to the dining-room. A +little page in livery drew back, with a scraping sound, from the table, +an arm-chair covered with cushions, devoted to the princess's use; she +sank into it; Katya in pouring out the tea handed her first a cup +emblazoned with a heraldic crest. The old lady put some honey in her +cup (she considered it both sinful and extravagant to drink tea with +sugar in it, though she never spent a farthing herself on anything), +and suddenly asked in a hoarse voice, 'And what does Prince Ivan +write?' + +No one made her any reply. Bazarov and Arkady soon guessed that they +paid no attention to her though they treated her respectfully. + +'Because of her grand family,' thought Bazarov.... + +After tea, Anna Sergyevna suggested they should go out for a walk; but +it began to rain a little, and the whole party, with the exception of +the princess, returned to the drawing-room. The neighbour, the devoted +card-player, arrived; his name was Porfiry Platonitch, a stoutish, +greyish man with short, spindly legs, very polite and ready to be +amused. Anna Sergyevna, who still talked principally with Bazarov, +asked him whether he'd like to try a contest with them in the +old-fashioned way at preference? Bazarov assented, saying 'that he +ought to prepare himself beforehand for the duties awaiting him as a +country doctor.' + +'You must be careful,' observed Anna Sergyevna; 'Porfiry Platonitch and +I will beat you. And you, Katya,' she added, 'play something to Arkady +Nikolaevitch; he is fond of music, and we can listen, too.' + +Katya went unwillingly to the piano; and Arkady, though he certainly +was fond of music, unwillingly followed her; it seemed to him that +Madame Odintsov was sending him away, and already, like every young man +at his age, he felt a vague and oppressive emotion surging up in his +heart, like the forebodings of love. Katya raised the top of the piano, +and not looking at Arkady, she said in a low voice-- + +'What am I to play you?' + +'What you like,' answered Arkady indifferently. + +'What sort of music do you like best?' repeated Katya, without changing +her attitude. + +'Classical,' Arkady answered in the same tone of voice. + +'Do you like Mozart?' + +'Yes, I like Mozart.' + +Katya pulled out Mozart's Sonata-Fantasia in C minor. She played very +well, though rather over correctly and precisely. She sat upright and +immovable, her eyes fixed on the notes, and her lips tightly +compressed, only at the end of the sonata her face glowed, her hair +came loose, and a little lock fell on to her dark brow. + +Arkady was particularly struck by the last part of the sonata, the part +in which, in the midst of the bewitching gaiety of the careless melody, +the pangs of such mournful, almost tragic suffering, suddenly break +in.... But the ideas stirred in him by Mozart's music had no reference +to Katya. Looking at her, he simply thought, 'Well, that young lady +doesn't play badly, and she's not bad-looking either.' + +When she had finished the sonata, Katya without taking her hands from +the keys, asked, 'Is that enough?' Arkady declared that he could not +venture to trouble her again, and began talking to her about Mozart; he +asked her whether she had chosen that sonata herself, or some one had +recommended it to her. But Katya answered him in monosyllables; she +withdrew into herself, went back into her shell. When this happened to +her, she did not very quickly come out again; her face even assumed at +such times an obstinate, almost stupid expression. She was not exactly +shy, but diffident, and rather overawed by her sister, who had educated +her, and who had no suspicion of the fact. Arkady was reduced at last +to calling Fifi to him, and with an affable smile patting him on the +head to give himself an appearance of being at home. + +Katya set to work again upon her flowers. + +Bazarov meanwhile was losing and losing. Anna Sergyevna played cards in +masterly fashion; Porfiry Platonitch, too, could hold his own in the +game. Bazarov lost a sum which, though trifling in itself, was not +altogether pleasant for him. At supper Anna Sergyevna again turned the +conversation on botany. + +'We will go for a walk to-morrow morning,' she said to him; 'I want you +to teach me the Latin names of the wild flowers and their species.' + +'What use are the Latin names to you?' asked Bazarov. + +'Order is needed in everything,' she answered. + +'What an exquisite woman Anna Sergyevna is!' cried Arkady, when he was +alone with his friend in the room assigned to them. + +'Yes,' answered Bazarov, 'a female with brains. Yes, and she's seen +life too.' + +'In what sense do you mean that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?' + +'In a good sense, a good sense, my dear friend, Arkady Nikolaevitch! +I'm convinced she manages her estate capitally too. But what's splendid +is not her, but her sister.' + +'What, that little dark thing?' + +'Yes, that little dark thing. She now is fresh and untouched, and shy +and silent, and anything you like. She's worth educating and +developing. You might make something fine out of her; but the +other's--a stale loaf.' + +Arkady made no reply to Bazarov, and each of them got into bed with +rather singular thoughts in his head. + +Anna Sergyevna, too, thought of her guests that evening. She liked +Bazarov for the absence of gallantry in him, and even for his sharply +defined views. She found in him something new, which she had not +chanced to meet before, and she was curious. + +Anna Sergyevna was a rather strange creature. Having no prejudices of +any kind, having no strong convictions even, she never gave way or went +out of her way for anything. She had seen many things very clearly; she +had been interested in many things, but nothing had completely +satisfied her; indeed, she hardly desired complete satisfaction. Her +intellect was at the same time inquiring and indifferent; her doubts +were never soothed to forgetfulness, and they never grew strong enough +to distract her. Had she not been rich and independent, she would +perhaps have thrown herself into the struggle, and have known passion. +But life was easy for her, though she was bored at times, and she went +on passing day after day with deliberation, never in a hurry, placid, +and only rarely disturbed. Dreams sometimes danced in rainbow colours +before her eyes even, but she breathed more freely when they died away, +and did not regret them. Her imagination indeed overstepped the limits +of what is reckoned permissible by conventional morality; but even then +her blood flowed as quietly as ever in her fascinatingly graceful, +tranquil body. Sometimes coming out of her fragrant bath all warm and +enervated, she would fall to musing on the nothingness of life, the +sorrow, the labour, the malice of it.... Her soul would be filled with +sudden daring, and would flow with generous ardour, but a draught would +blow from a half-closed window, and Anna Sergyevna would shrink into +herself, and feel plaintive and almost angry, and there was only one +thing she cared for at that instant--to get away from that horrid +draught. + +Like all women who have not succeeded in loving, she wanted something, +without herself knowing what. Strictly speaking, she wanted nothing; +but it seemed to her that she wanted everything. She could hardly +endure the late Odintsov (she had married him from prudential motives, +though probably she would not have consented to become his wife if she +had not considered him a good sort of man), and had conceived a secret +repugnance for all men, whom she could only figure to herself as +slovenly, heavy, drowsy, and feebly importunate creatures. Once, +somewhere abroad, she had met a handsome young Swede, with a chivalrous +expression, with honest blue eyes under an open brow; he had made a +powerful impression on her, but it had not prevented her from going +back to Russia. + +'A strange man this doctor!' she thought as she lay in her luxurious +bed on lace pillows under a light silk coverlet.... Anna Sergyevna had +inherited from her father a little of his inclination for splendour. +She had fondly loved her sinful but good-natured father, and he had +idolised her, used to joke with her in a friendly way as though she +were an equal, and to confide in her fully, to ask her advice. Her +mother she scarcely remembered. + +'This doctor is a strange man!' she repeated to herself. She stretched, +smiled, clasped her hands behind her head, then ran her eyes over two +pages of a stupid French novel, dropped the book--and fell asleep, all +pure and cold, in her pure and fragrant linen. + +The following morning Anna Sergyevna went off botanising with Bazarov +directly after lunch, and returned just before dinner; Arkady did not +go off anywhere, and spent about an hour with Katya. He was not bored +with her; she offered of herself to repeat the sonata of the day +before; but when Madame Odintsov came back at last, when he caught +sight of her, he felt an instantaneous pang at his heart. She came +through the garden with a rather tired step; her cheeks were glowing +and her eyes shining more brightly than usual under her round straw +hat. She was twirling in her fingers the thin stalk of a wildflower, a +light mantle had slipped down to her elbows, and the wide gray ribbons +of her hat were clinging to her bosom. Bazarov walked behind her, +self-confident and careless as usual, but the expression of his face, +cheerful and even friendly as it was, did not please Arkady. Muttering +between his teeth, 'Good-morning!' Bazarov went away to his room, while +Madame Odintsov shook Arkady's hand abstractedly, and also walked past +him. + +'Good-morning!' thought Arkady ... 'As though we had not seen each +other already to-day!' + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Time, it is well known, sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls +like a worm; but man is wont to be particularly happy when he does not +even notice whether it passes quickly or slowly. It was in that way +Arkady and Bazarov spent a fortnight at Madame Odintsov's. The good +order she had established in her house and in her life partly +contributed to this result. She adhered strictly to this order herself, +and forced others to submit to it. Everything during the day was done +at a fixed time. In the morning, precisely at eight o'clock, all the +party assembled for tea; from morning-tea till lunch-time every one did +what he pleased, the hostess herself was engaged with her bailiff (the +estate was on the rent-system), her steward, and her head housekeeper. +Before dinner the party met again for conversation or reading; the +evening was devoted to walking, cards, and music; at half-past ten Anna +Sergyevna retired to her own room, gave her orders for the following +day, and went to bed. Bazarov did not like this measured, somewhat +ostentatious punctuality in daily life, 'like moving along rails,' he +pronounced it to be; the footmen in livery, the decorous stewards, +offended his democratic sentiments. He declared that if one went so +far, one might as well dine in the English style at once--in tail-coats +and white ties. He once spoke plainly upon the subject to Anna +Sergyevna. Her attitude was such that no one hesitated to speak his +mind freely before her. She heard him out; and then her comment was, +'From your point of view, you are right--and perhaps, in that respect, +I am too much of a lady; but there's no living in the country without +order, one would be devoured by ennui,' and she continued to go her own +way. Bazarov grumbled, but the very reason life was so easy for him and +Arkady at Madame Odintsov's was that everything in the house 'moved on +rails.' For all that, a change had taken place in both the young men +since the first days of their stay at Nikolskoe. Bazarov, in whom Anna +Sergyevna was obviously interested, though she seldom agreed with him, +began to show signs of an unrest, unprecedented in him; he was easily +put out of temper, and unwilling to talk, he looked irritated, and +could not sit still in one place, just as though he were possessed by +some secret longing; while Arkady, who had made up his mind +conclusively that he was in love with Madame Odintsov, had begun to +yield to a gentle melancholy. This melancholy did not, however, prevent +him from becoming friendly with Katya; it even impelled him to get into +friendly, affectionate terms with her. '_She_ does not appreciate me? +So be it!... But here is a good creature, who does not repulse me,' he +thought, and his heart again knew the sweetness of magnanimous +emotions. Katya vaguely realised that he was seeking a sort of +consolation in her company, and did not deny him or herself the +innocent pleasure of a half-shy, half-confidential friendship. They did +not talk to each other in Anna Sergyevna's presence; Katya always +shrank into herself under her sister's sharp eyes; while Arkady, as +befits a man in love, could pay attention to nothing else when near the +object of his passion; but he was happy with Katya alone. He was +conscious that he did not possess the power to interest Madame +Odintsov; he was shy and at a loss when he was left alone with her, and +she did not know what to say to him, he was too young for her. With +Katya, on the other hand, Arkady felt at home; he treated her +condescendingly, encouraged her to express the impressions made on her +by music, reading novels, verses, and other such trifles, without +noticing or realising that these trifles were what interested him too. +Katya, on her side, did not try to drive away melancholy. Arkady was at +his ease with Katya, Madame Odintsov with Bazarov, and thus it usually +came to pass that the two couples, after being a little while together, +went off on their separate ways, especially during the walks. Katya +adored nature, and Arkady loved it, though he did not dare to +acknowledge it; Madame Odintsov was, like Bazarov, rather indifferent +to the beauties of nature. The almost continual separation of the two +friends was not without its consequences; the relations between them +began to change. Bazarov gave up talking to Arkady about Madame +Odintsov, gave up even abusing her 'aristocratic ways'; Katya, it is +true, he praised as before, and only advised him to restrain her +sentimental tendencies, but his praises were hurried, his advice dry, +and in general he talked less to Arkady than before ... he seemed to +avoid him, seemed ill at ease with him. + +Arkady observed it all, but he kept his observations to himself. + +The real cause of all this 'newness' was the feeling inspired in +Bazarov by Madame Odintsov, a feeling which tortured and maddened him, +and which he would at once have denied, with scornful laughter and +cynical abuse, if any one had ever so remotely hinted at the +possibility of what was taking place in him. Bazarov had a great love +for women and for feminine beauty; but love in the ideal, or, as he +expressed it, romantic sense, he called lunacy, unpardonable +imbecility; he regarded chivalrous sentiments as something of the +nature of deformity or disease, and had more than once expressed his +wonder that Toggenburg and all the minnesingers and troubadours had not +been put into a lunatic asylum. 'If a woman takes your fancy,' he used +to say, 'try and gain your end; but if you can't--well, turn your back +on her--there are lots of good fish in the sea.' Madame Odintsov had +taken his fancy; the rumours about her, the freedom and independence of +her ideas, her unmistakable liking for him, all seemed to be in his +favour, but he soon saw that with her he would not 'gain his ends,' and +to turn his back on her he found, to his own bewilderment, beyond his +power. His blood was on fire directly if he merely thought of her; he +could easily have mastered his blood, but something else was taking +root in him, something he had never admitted, at which he had always +jeered, at which all his pride revolted. In his conversations with Anna +Sergyevna he expressed more strongly than ever his calm contempt for +everything idealistic; but when he was alone, with indignation he +recognised idealism in himself. Then he would set off to the forest and +walk with long strides about it, smashing the twigs that came in his +way, and cursing under his breath both her and himself; or he would get +into the hay-loft in the barn, and, obstinately closing his eyes, try +to force himself to sleep, in which, of course, he did not always +succeed. Suddenly his fancy would bring before him those chaste hands +twining one day about his neck, those proud lips responding to his +kisses, those intellectual eyes dwelling with tenderness--yes, with +tenderness--on his, and his head went round, and he forgot himself for +an instant, till indignation boiled up in him again. He caught himself +in all sorts of 'shameful' thoughts, as though he were driven on by a +devil mocking him. Sometimes he fancied that there was a change taking +place in Madame Odintsov too; that there were signs in the expression +of her face of something special; that, perhaps ... but at that point +he would stamp, or grind his teeth, and clench his fists. + +Meanwhile Bazarov was not altogether mistaken. He had struck Madame +Odintsov's imagination; he interested her, she thought a great deal +about him. In his absence, she was not dull, she was not impatient for +his coming, but she always grew more lively on his appearance; she +liked to be left alone with him, and she liked talking to him, even +when he irritated her or offended her taste, her refined habits. She +was, as it were, eager at once to sound him and to analyse herself. + +One day walking in the garden with her, he suddenly announced, in a +surly voice, that he intended going to his father's place very soon.... +She turned white, as though something had given her a pang, and such a +pang, that she wondered and pondered long after, what could be the +meaning of it. Bazarov had spoken of his departure with no idea of +putting her to the test, of seeing what would come of it; he never +'fabricated.' On the morning of that day he had an interview with his +father's bailiff, who had taken care of him when he was a child, +Timofeitch. This Timofeitch, a little old man of much experience and +astuteness, with faded yellow hair, a weather-beaten red face, and tiny +tear-drops in his shrunken eyes, unexpectedly appeared before Bazarov, +in his shortish overcoat of stout greyish-blue cloth, girt with a strip +of leather, and in tarred boots. + +'Hullo, old man; how are you?' cried Bazarov. + +'How do you do, Yevgeny Vassilyitch?' began the little old man, and he +smiled with delight, so that his whole face was all at once covered +with wrinkles. + +'What have you come for? They sent for me, eh?' + +'Upon my word, sir, how could we?' mumbled Timofeitch. (He remembered +the strict injunctions he had received from his master on starting.) +'We were sent to the town on business, and we'd heard news of your +honour, so here we turned off on our way, that's to say--to have a look +at your honour ... as if we could think of disturbing you!' + +'Come, don't tell lies!' Bazarov cut him short. 'Is this the road to +the town, do you mean to tell me?' Timofeitch hesitated, and made no +answer. 'Is my father well?' + +'Thank God, yes.' + +'And my mother?' + +'Anna Vlasyevna too, glory be to God.' + +'They are expecting me, I suppose?' + +The little old man held his tiny head on one side. + +'Ah, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, it makes one's heart ache to see them; it +does really.' + +'Come, all right, all right! shut up! Tell them I'm coming soon.' + +'Yes, sir,' answered Timofeitch, with a sigh. + +As he went out of the house, he pulled his cap down on his head with +both hands, clambered into a wretched-looking racing droshky, and went +off at a trot, but not in the direction of the town. + +On the evening of the same day, Madame Odintsov was sitting in her own +room with Bazarov, while Arkady walked up and down the hall listening +to Katya's playing. The princess had gone upstairs to her own room; she +could not bear guests as a rule, and 'especially this new riff-raff +lot,' as she called them. In the common rooms she only sulked; but she +made up for it in her own room by breaking out into such abuse before +her maid that the cap danced on her head, wig and all. Madame Odintsov +was well aware of all this. + +'How is it you are proposing to leave us?' she began; 'how about your +promise?' + +Bazarov started. 'What promise?' + +'Have you forgotten? You meant to give me some lessons in chemistry.' + +'It can't be helped! My father expects me; I can't loiter any longer. +However, you can read Pelouse et Fremy, _Notions generales de Chimie_; +it's a good book, and clearly written. You will find everything you +need in it.' + +'But do you remember; you assured me a book cannot take the place of +... I've forgotten how you put it, but you know what I mean ... do you +remember?' + +'It can't be helped!' repeated Bazarov. + +'Why go away?' said Madame Odintsov, dropping her voice. + +He glanced at her. Her head had fallen on to the back of her +easy-chair, and her arms, bare to the elbow, were folded on her bosom. +She seemed paler in the light of the single lamp covered with a +perforated paper shade. An ample white gown hid her completely in its +soft folds; even the tips of her feet, also crossed, were hardly seen. + +'And why stay?' answered Bazarov. + +Madame Odintsov turned her head slightly. 'You ask why. Have you not +enjoyed yourself with me? Or do you suppose you will not be missed +here?' + +'I am sure of it.' + +Madame Odintsov was silent a minute. 'You are wrong in thinking that. +But I don't believe you. You could not say that seriously.' Bazarov +still sat immovable. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why don't you speak?' + +'Why, what am I to say to you? People are not generally worth being +missed, and I less than most.' + +'Why so?' + +'I'm a practical, uninteresting person. I don't know how to talk.' + +'You are fishing, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.' + +'That's not a habit of mine. Don't you know yourself that I've nothing +in common with the elegant side of life, the side you prize so much?' + +Madame Odintsov bit the corner of her handkerchief. + +'You may think what you like, but I shall be dull when you go away.' + +'Arkady will remain,' remarked Bazarov. Madame Odintsov shrugged her +shoulders slightly. 'I shall be dull,' she repeated. + +'Really? In any case you will not feel dull for long.' + +'What makes you suppose that?' + +'Because you told me yourself that you are only dull when your regular +routine is broken in upon. You have ordered your existence with such +unimpeachable regularity that there can be no place in it for dulness +or sadness ... for any unpleasant emotions.' + +'And do you consider I am so unimpeachable ... that's to say, that I +have ordered my life with such regularity?' + +'I should think so. Here's an example; in a few minutes it will strike +ten, and I know beforehand that you will drive me away.' + +'No; I'm not going to drive you away, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You may +stay. Open that window.... I feel half-stifled.' + +Bazarov got up and gave a push to the window. It flew up with a loud +crash.... He had not expected it to open so easily; besides, his hands +were shaking. The soft, dark night looked in to the room with its +almost black sky, its faintly rustling trees, and the fresh fragrance +of the pure open air. + +'Draw the blind and sit down,' said Madame Odintsov; 'I want to have a +talk with you before you go away. Tell me something about yourself; you +never talk about yourself.' + +'I try to talk to you upon improving subjects, Anna Sergyevna.' + +'You are very modest.... But I should like to know something about you, +about your family, about your father, for whom you are forsaking us.' + +'Why is she talking like that?' thought Bazarov. + +'All that's not in the least interesting,' he uttered aloud, +'especially for you; we are obscure people....' + +'And you regard me as an aristocrat?' + +Bazarov lifted his eyes to Madame Odintsov. + +'Yes,' he said, with exaggerated sharpness. + +She smiled. 'I see you know me very little, though you do maintain that +all people are alike, and it's not worth while to study them. I will +tell you my life some time or other ... but first you tell me yours.' + +'I know you very little,' repeated Bazarov. 'Perhaps you are right; +perhaps, really, every one is a riddle. You, for instance; you avoid +society, you are oppressed by it, and you have invited two students to +stay with you. What makes you, with your intellect, with your beauty, +live in the country?' + +'What? What was it you said?' Madame Odintsov interposed eagerly. 'With +my ... beauty?' + +Bazarov scowled. 'Never mind that,' he muttered; 'I meant to say that I +don't exactly understand why you have settled in the country?' + +'You don't understand it.... But you explain it to yourself in some +way?' + +'Yes ... I assume that you remain continually in the same place because +you indulge yourself, because you are very fond of comfort and ease, +and very indifferent to everything else.' + +Madame Odintsov smiled again. 'You would absolutely refuse to believe +that I am capable of being carried away by anything?' + +Bazarov glanced at her from under his brows. + +'By curiosity, perhaps; but not otherwise.' + +'Really? Well, now I understand why we are such friends; you are just +like me, you see.' + +'We are such friends ...' Bazarov articulated in a choked voice. + +'Yes!... Why, I'd forgotten you wanted to go away.' + +Bazarov got up. The lamp burnt dimly in the middle of the dark, +luxurious, isolated room; from time to time the blind was shaken, and +there flowed in the freshness of the insidious night; there was heard +its mysterious whisperings. Madame Odintsov did not move in a single +limb; but she was gradually possessed by concealed emotion. + +It communicated itself to Bazarov. He was suddenly conscious that he +was alone with a young and lovely woman.... + +'Where are you going?' she said slowly. + +He answered nothing, and sank into a chair. + +'And so you consider me a placid, pampered, spoiled creature,' she went +on in the same voice, never taking her eyes off the window. 'While I +know so much about myself, that I am unhappy.' + +'You unhappy? What for? Surely you can't attach any importance to idle +gossip?' + +Madame Odintsov frowned. It annoyed her that he had given such a +meaning to her words. + +'Such gossip does not affect me, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, and I am too +proud to allow it to disturb me. I am unhappy because ... I have no +desires, no passion for life. You look at me incredulously; you think +that's said by an "aristocrat," who is all in lace, and sitting in a +velvet armchair. I don't conceal the fact: I love what you call +comfort, and at the same time I have little desire to live. Explain +that contradiction as best you can. But all that's romanticism in your +eyes.' + +Bazarov shook his head. 'You are in good health, independent, rich; +what more would you have? What do you want?' + +'What do I want,' echoed Madame Odintsov, and she sighed, 'I am very +tired, I am old, I feel as if I have had a very long life. Yes, I am +old,' she added, softly drawing the ends of her lace over her bare +arms. Her eyes met Bazarov's eyes, and she faintly blushed. 'Behind me +I have already so many memories: my life in Petersburg, wealth, then +poverty, then my father's death, marriage, then the inevitable tour in +due order.... So many memories, and nothing to remember, and before me, +before me--a long, long road, and no goal.... I have no wish to go on.' + +'Are you so disillusioned?' queried Bazarov. + +'No, but I am dissatisfied,' Madame Odintsov replied, dwelling on each +syllable. 'I think if I could interest myself strongly in +something....' + +'You want to fall in love,' Bazarov interrupted her, 'and you can't +love; that's where your unhappiness lies.' + +Madame Odintsov began to examine the sleeve of her lace. + +'Is it true I can't love?' she said. + +'I should say not! Only I was wrong in calling that an unhappiness. On +the contrary, any one's more to be pitied when such a mischance befalls +him.' + +'Mischance, what?' + +'Falling in love.' + +'And how do you come to know that?' + +'By hearsay,' answered Bazarov angrily. + +'You're flirting,' he thought; 'you're bored, and teasing me for want +of something to do, while I ...' His heart really seemed as though it +were being torn to pieces. + +'Besides, you are perhaps too exacting,' he said, bending his whole +frame forward and playing with the fringe of the chair. + +'Perhaps. My idea is everything or nothing. A life for a life. Take +mine, give up thine, and that without regret or turning back. Or else +better have nothing.' + +'Well?' observed Bazarov; 'that's fair terms, and I'm surprised that so +far you ... have not found what you wanted.' + +'And do you think it would be easy to give oneself up wholly to +anything whatever?' + +'Not easy, if you begin reflecting, waiting and attaching value to +yourself, prizing yourself, I mean; but to give oneself up without +reflection is very easy.' + +'How can one help prizing oneself? If I am of no value, who could need +my devotion?' + +'That's not my affair; that's the other's business to discover what is +my value. The chief thing is to be able to devote oneself.' + +Madame Odintsov bent forward from the back of her chair. 'You speak,' +she began, 'as though you had experienced all that.' + +'It happened to come up, Anna Sergyevna; all that, as you know, is not +in my line.' + +'But you could devote yourself?' + +'I don't know. I shouldn't like to boast.' + +Madame Odintsov said nothing, and Bazarov was mute. The sounds of the +piano floated up to them from the drawing-room. + +'How is it Katya is playing so late?' observed Madame Odintsov. + +Bazarov got up. 'Yes, it is really late now; it's time for you to go to +bed.' + +'Wait a little; why are you in a hurry?... I want to say one word to +you.' + +'What is it?' + +'Wait a little,' whispered Madame Odintsov. Her eyes rested on Bazarov; +it seemed as though she were examining him attentively. + +He walked across the room, then suddenly went up to her, hurriedly said +'Good-bye,' squeezed her hand so that she almost screamed, and was +gone. She raised her crushed fingers to her lips, breathed on them, and +suddenly, impulsively getting up from her low chair, she moved with +rapid steps towards the door, as though she wished to bring Bazarov +back.... A maid came into the room with a decanter on a silver tray. +Madame Odintsov stood still, told her she could go, and sat down again, +and again sank into thought. Her hair slipped loose and fell in a dark +coil down her shoulders. Long after the lamp was still burning in Anna +Sergyevna's room, and for long she stayed without moving, only from +time to time chafing her hands, which ached a little from the cold of +the night. + +Bazarov went back two hours later to his bed-room with his boots wet +with dew, dishevelled and ill-humoured. He found Arkady at the +writing-table with a book in his hands, his coat buttoned up to the +throat. + +'You're not in bed yet?' he said, in a tone, it seemed, of annoyance. + +'You stopped a long while with Anna Sergyevna this evening,' remarked +Arkady, not answering him. + +'Yes, I stopped with her all the while you were playing the piano with +Katya Sergyevna.' + +'I did not play ...' Arkady began, and he stopped. He felt the tears +were coming into his eyes, and he did not like to cry before his +sarcastic friend. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +The following morning when Madame Odintsov came down to morning tea, +Bazarov sat a long while bending over his cup, then suddenly he glanced +up at her.... She turned to him as though he had struck her a blow, and +he fancied that her face was a little paler since the night before. She +quickly went off to her own room, and did not appear till lunch. It +rained from early morning; there was no possibility of going for a +walk. The whole company assembled in the drawing-room. Arkady took up +the new number of a journal and began reading it aloud. The princess, +as was her habit, tried to express her amazement in her face, as though +he were doing something improper, then glared angrily at him; but he +paid no attention to her. + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch' said Anna Sergyevna, 'come to my room.... I want +to ask you.... You mentioned a textbook yesterday ...' + +She got up and went to the door. The princess looked round with an +expression that seemed to say, 'Look at me; see how shocked I am!' and +again glared at Arkady; but he raised his voice, and exchanging glances +with Katya, near whom he was sitting, he went on reading. + +Madame Odintsov went with rapid steps to her study. Bazarov followed +her quickly, not raising his eyes, and only with his ears catching the +delicate swish and rustle of her silk gown gliding before him. Madame +Odintsov sank into the same easy-chair in which she had sat the +previous evening, and Bazarov took up the same position as before. + +'What was the name of that book?' she began, after a brief silence. + +'Pelouse et Fremy, _Notions generales_,' answered Bazarov. 'I might +though recommend you also Ganot, _Traite elementaire de physique +experimentale_. In that book the illustrations are clearer, and in +general it's a text-book.' + +Madame Odintsov stretched out her hand. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I beg +your pardon, but I didn't invite you in here to discuss text-books. I +wanted to continue our conversation of last night. You went away so +suddenly.... It will not bore you ...' + +'I am at your service, Anna Sergyevna. But what were we talking about +last night?' + +Madame Odintsov flung a sidelong glance at Bazarov. + +'We were talking of happiness, I believe. I told you about myself. By +the way, I mentioned the word "happiness." Tell me why it is that even +when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a fine evening, or a +conversation with sympathetic people, it all seems an intimation of +some measureless happiness existing apart somewhere rather than actual +happiness--such, I mean, as we ourselves are in possession of? Why is +it? Or perhaps you have no feeling like that?' + +'You know the saying, "Happiness is where we are not,"' replied +Bazarov; 'besides, you told me yesterday you are discontented. I +certainly never have such ideas come into my head.' + +'Perhaps they seem ridiculous to you?' + +'No; but they don't come into my head.' + +'Really? Do you know, I should very much like to know what you do think +about?' + +'What? I don't understand.' + +'Listen; I have long wanted to speak openly to you. There's no need to +tell you--you are conscious of it yourself--that you are not an +ordinary man; you are still young--all life is before you. What are you +preparing yourself for? What future is awaiting you? I mean to +say--what object do you want to attain? What are you going forward to? +What is in your heart? in short, who are you? What are you?' + +'You surprise me, Anna Sergyevna. You are aware that I am studying +natural science, and who I ...' + +'Well, who are you?' + +'I have explained to you already that I am going to be a district +doctor.' + +Anna Sergyevna made a movement of impatience. + +'What do you say that for? You don't believe it yourself. Arkady might +answer me in that way, but not you.' + +'Why, in what is Arkady ...' + +'Stop! Is it possible you could content yourself with such a humble +career, and aren't you always maintaining yourself that you don't +believe in medicine? You--with your ambition--a district doctor! You +answer me like that to put me off, because you have no confidence in +me. But, do you know, Yevgeny Vassilyitch, that I could understand you; +I have been poor myself, and ambitious, like you; I have been perhaps +through the same trials as you.' + +'That is all very well, Anna Sergyevna, but you must pardon me for ... +I am not in the habit of talking freely about myself at any time as a +rule, and between you and me there is such a gulf ...' + +'What sort of gulf? You mean to tell me again that I am an aristocrat? +No more of that, Yevgeny Vassilyitch; I thought I had proved to +you ...' + +'And even apart from that,' broke in Bazarov, 'what could induce one to +talk and think about the future, which for the most part does not +depend on us? If a chance turns up of doing something--so much the +better; and if it doesn't turn up--at least one will be glad one didn't +gossip idly about it beforehand.' + +'You call a friendly conversation idle gossip?... Or perhaps you +consider me as a woman unworthy of your confidence? I know you despise +us all.' + +'I don't despise you, Anna Sergyevna, and you know that.' + +'No, I don't know anything ... but let us suppose so. I understand your +disinclination to talk of your future career; but as to what is taking +place within you now ...' + +'Taking place!' repeated Bazarov, 'as though I were some sort of +government or society! In any case, it is utterly uninteresting; and +besides, can a man always speak of everything that "takes place" in +him?' + +'Why, I don't see why you can't speak freely of everything you have in +your heart.' + +'Can _you_?' asked Bazarov. + +'Yes,' answered Anna Sergyevna, after a brief hesitation. + +Bazarov bowed his head. 'You are more fortunate than I am.' + +Anna Sergyevna looked at him questioningly. 'As you please,' she went +on, 'but still something tells me that we have not come together for +nothing; that we shall be great friends. I am sure this--what should I +say, constraint, reticence in you will vanish at last.' + +'So you have noticed reticence ... as you expressed it ... constraint?' + +'Yes.' + +Bazarov got up and went to the window. 'And would you like to know the +reason of this reticence? Would you like to know what is passing within +me?' + +'Yes,' repeated Madame Odintsov, with a sort of dread she did not at +the time understand. + +'And you will not be angry?' + +'No.' + +'No?' Bazarov was standing with his back to her. 'Let me tell you then +that I love you like a fool, like a madman.... There, you've forced it +out of me.' + +Madame Odintsov held both hands out before her; but Bazarov was leaning +with his forehead pressed against the window pane. He breathed hard; +his whole body was visibly trembling. But it was not the tremor of +youthful timidity, not the sweet alarm of the first declaration that +possessed him; it was passion struggling in him, strong and +painful--passion not unlike hatred, and perhaps akin to it.... Madame +Odintsov felt both afraid and sorry for him. + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and there was the ring of unconscious +tenderness in her voice. + +He turned quickly, flung a searching look on her, and snatching both +her hands, he drew her suddenly to his breast. + +She did not at once free herself from his embrace, but an instant +later, she was standing far away in a corner, and looking from there at +Bazarov. He rushed at her ... + +'You have misunderstood me,' she whispered hurriedly, in alarm. It +seemed if he had made another step she would have screamed.... Bazarov +bit his lips, and went out. + +Half-an-hour after, a maid gave Anna Sergyevna a note from Bazarov; it +consisted simply of one line: 'Am I to go to-day, or can I stop till +to-morrow?' + +'Why should you go? I did not understand you--you did not understand +me,' Anna Sergyevna answered him, but to herself she thought: 'I did +not understand myself either.' + +She did not show herself till dinner-time, and kept walking to and fro +in her room, stopping sometimes at the window, sometimes at the +looking-glass, and slowly rubbing her handkerchief over her neck, on +which she still seemed to feel a burning spot. She asked herself what +had induced her to 'force' Bazarov's words, his confidence, and whether +she had suspected nothing ... 'I am to blame,' she decided aloud, 'but +I could not have foreseen this.' She fell to musing, and blushed +crimson, remembering Bazarov's almost animal face when he had rushed at +her.... + +'Oh?' she uttered suddenly aloud, and she stopped short and shook back +her curls.... She caught sight of herself in the glass; her head thrown +back, with a mysterious smile on the half-closed, half-opened eyes and +lips, told her, it seemed, in a flash something at which she herself +was confused.... + +'No,' she made up her mind at last. 'God knows what it would lead to; +he couldn't be played with; peace is anyway the best thing in the +world.' + +Her peace of mind was not shaken; but she felt gloomy, and even shed a +few tears once though she could not have said why--certainly not for +the insult done her. She did not feel insulted; she was more inclined +to feel guilty. Under the influence of various vague emotions, the +sense of life passing by, the desire of novelty, she had forced herself +to go up to a certain point, forced herself to look behind herself, and +had seen behind her not even an abyss, but what was empty ... or +revolting. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +Great as was Madame Odintsov's self-control, and superior as she was to +every kind of prejudice, she felt awkward when she went into the +dining-room to dinner. The meal went off fairly successfully, however. +Porfiry Platonovitch made his appearance and told various anecdotes; he +had just come back from the town. Among other things, he informed them +that the governor had ordered his secretaries on special commissions to +wear spurs, in case he might send them off anywhere for greater speed +on horseback. Arkady talked in an undertone to Katya, and +diplomatically attended to the princess's wants. Bazarov maintained a +grim and obstinate silence. Madame Odintsov looked at him twice, not +stealthily, but straight in the face, which was bilious and forbidding, +with downcast eyes, and contemptuous determination stamped on every +feature, and thought: 'No ... no ... no.' ... After dinner, she went +with the whole company into the garden, and seeing that Bazarov wanted +to speak to her, she took a few steps to one side and stopped. He went +up to her, but even then did not raise his eyes, and said hoarsely-- + +'I have to apologise to you, Anna Sergyevna. You must be in a fury with +me.' + +'No, I'm not angry with you, Yevgeny Vassilyitch,' answered Madame +Odintsov; 'but I am sorry.' + +'So much the worse. Any way, I'm sufficiently punished. My position, +you will certainly agree, is most foolish. You wrote to me, "Why go +away?" But I cannot stay, and don't wish to. To-morrow I shall be +gone.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, why are you ...' + +'Why am I going away?' + +'No; I didn't mean to say that.' + +'There's no recalling the past, Anna Sergyevna ... and this was bound +to come about sooner or later. Consequently I must go. I can only +conceive of one condition upon which I could remain; but that condition +will never be. Excuse my impertinence, but you don't love me, and you +never will love me, I suppose?' + +Bazarov's eyes glittered for an instant under their dark brows. + +Anna Sergyevna did not answer him. 'I'm afraid of this man,' flashed +through her brain. + +'Good-bye, then,' said Bazarov, as though he guessed her thought, and +he went back into the house. + +Anna Sergyevna walked slowly after him, and calling Katya to her, she +took her arm. She did not leave her side till quite evening. She did +not play cards, and was constantly laughing, which did not at all +accord with her pale and perplexed face. Arkady was bewildered, and +looked on at her as all young people look on--that's to say, he was +constantly asking himself, 'What is the meaning of that?' Bazarov shut +himself up in his room; he came back to tea, however. Anna Sergyevna +longed to say some friendly word to him, but she did not know how to +address him.... + +An unexpected incident relieved her from her embarrassment; a steward +announced the arrival of Sitnikov. + +It is difficult to do justice in words to the strange figure cut by the +young apostle of progress as he fluttered into the room. Though, with +his characteristic impudence, he had made up his mind to go into the +country to visit a woman whom he hardly knew, who had never invited +him; but with whom, according to information he had gathered, such +talented and intimate friends were staying, he was nevertheless +trembling to the marrow of his bones; and instead of bringing out the +apologies and compliments he had learned by heart beforehand, he +muttered some absurdity about Evdoksya Kukshin having sent him to +inquire after Anna Sergyevna's health, and Arkady Nikolaevitch's too, +having always spoken to him in the highest terms.... At this point he +faltered and lost his presence of mind so completely that he sat down +on his own hat. However, since no one turned him out, and Anna +Sergyevna even presented him to her aunt and her sister, he soon +recovered himself and began to chatter volubly. The introduction of the +commonplace is often an advantage in life; it relieves over-strained +tension, and sobers too self-confident or self-sacrificing emotions by +recalling its close kinship with them. With Sitnikov's appearance +everything became somehow duller and simpler; they all even ate a more +solid supper, and retired to bed half-an-hour earlier than usual. + +'I might now repeat to you,' said Arkady, as he lay down in bed, to +Bazarov, who was also undressing, what you once said to me, 'Why are +you so melancholy? One would think you had fulfilled some sacred duty.' +For some time past a sort of pretence of free-and-easy banter had +sprung up between the two young men, which is always an unmistakable +sign of secret displeasure or unexpressed suspicions. + +'I'm going to my father's to-morrow,' said Bazarov. + +Arkady raised himself and leaned on his elbow. He felt both surprised, +and for some reason or other pleased. 'Ah!' he commented, 'and is that +why you're sad?' + +Bazarov yawned. 'You'll get old if you know too much.' + +'And Anna Sergyevna?' persisted Arkady. + +'What about Anna Sergyevna?' + +'I mean, will she let you go?' + +'I'm not her paid man.' + +Arkady grew thoughtful, while Bazarov lay down and turned with his face +to the wall. + +Some minutes went by in silence. 'Yevgeny?' cried Arkady suddenly. + +'Well?' + +'I will leave with you to-morrow too.' + +Bazarov made no answer. + +'Only I will go home,' continued Arkady. 'We will go together as far as +Hohlovsky, and there you can get horses at Fedot's. I should be +delighted to make the acquaintance of your people, but I'm afraid of +being in their way and yours. You are coming to us again later, of +course?' + +'I've left all my things with you,' Bazarov said, without turning +round. + +'Why doesn't he ask me why I am going, and just as suddenly as he?' +thought Arkady. 'In reality, why am I going, and why is he going?' he +pursued his reflections. He could find no satisfactory answer to his +own question, though his heart was filled with some bitter feeling. He +felt it would be hard to part from this life to which he had grown so +accustomed; but for him to remain alone would be rather odd. 'Something +has passed between them,' he reasoned to himself; 'what good would it +be for me to hang on after he's gone? She's utterly sick of me; I'm +losing the last that remained to me.' He began to imagine Anna +Sergyevna to himself, then other features gradually eclipsed the lovely +image of the young widow. + +'I'm sorry to lose Katya too!' Arkady whispered to his pillow, on which +a tear had already fallen.... All at once he shook back his hair and +said aloud-- + +'What the devil made that fool of a Sitnikov turn up here?' + +Bazarov at first stirred a little in his bed, then he uttered the +following rejoinder: 'You're still a fool, my boy, I see. Sitnikovs are +indispensable to us. I--do you understand? I need dolts like him. It's +not for the gods to bake bricks, in fact!'... + +'Oho!' Arkady thought to himself, and then in a flash all the +fathomless depths of Bazarov's conceit dawned upon him. 'Are you and I +gods then? at least, you're a god; am not I a dolt then?' + +'Yes,' repeated Bazarov; 'you're still a fool.' + +Madame Odintsov expressed no special surprise when Arkady told her the +next day that he was going with Bazarov; she seemed tired and absorbed. +Katya looked at him silently and seriously; the princess went so far as +to cross herself under her shawl so that he could not help noticing it. +Sitnikov, on the other hand, was completely disconcerted. He had only +just come in to lunch in a new and fashionable get-up, not on this +occasion of a Slavophil cut; the evening before he had astonished the +man told off to wait on him by the amount of linen he had brought with +him, and now all of a sudden his comrades were deserting him! He took a +few tiny steps, doubled back like a hunted hare at the edge of a copse, +and abruptly, almost with dismay, almost with a wail, announced that he +proposed going too. Madame Odintsov did not attempt to detain him. + +'I have a very comfortable carriage,' added the luckless young man, +turning to Arkady; 'I can take you, while Yevgeny Vassilyitch can take +your coach, so it will be even more convenient.' + +'But, really, it's not at all in your way, and it's a long way to my +place.' + +'That's nothing, nothing; I've plenty of time; besides, I have business +in that direction.' + +'Gin-selling?' asked Arkady, rather too contemptuously. + +But Sitnikov was reduced to such desperation that he did not even laugh +as usual. 'I assure you, my carriage is exceedingly comfortable,' he +muttered; 'and there will be room for all.' + +'Don't wound Monsieur Sitnikov by a refusal,' commented Anna Sergyevna. + +Arkady glanced at her, and bowed his head significantly. + +The visitors started off after lunch. As she said good-bye to Bazarov, +Madame Odintsov held out her hand to him, and said, 'We shall meet +again, shan't we?' + +'As you command,' answered Bazarov. + +'In that case, we shall.' + +Arkady was the first to descend the steps; he got into Sitnikov's +carriage. A steward tucked him in respectfully, but he could have +killed him with pleasure, or have burst into tears. + +Bazarov took his seat in the coach. When they reached Hohlovsky, Arkady +waited till Fedot, the keeper of the posting-station, had put in the +horses, and going up to the coach, he said, with his old smile, to +Bazarov, 'Yevgeny, take me with you; I want to come to you.' + +'Get in,' Bazarov brought out through his teeth. + +Sitnikov, who had been walking to and fro round the wheels of his +carriage, whistling briskly, could only gape when he heard these +words; while Arkady coolly pulled his luggage out of the carriage, +took his seat beside Bazarov, and bowing politely to his former +fellow-traveller, he called, 'Whip up!' The coach rolled away, and was +soon out of sight.... Sitnikov, utterly confused, looked at his +coachman, but the latter was flicking his whip about the tail of the +off horse. Then Sitnikov jumped into the carriage, and growling at two +passing peasants, 'Put on your caps, idiots!' he drove to the town, +where he arrived very late, and where, next day, at Madame Kukshin's, +he dealt very severely with two 'disgusting stuck-up churls.' + +When he was seated in the coach by Bazarov, Arkady pressed his hand +warmly, and for a long while he said nothing. It seemed as though +Bazarov understood and appreciated both the pressure and the silence. +He had not slept all the previous night, and had not smoked, and had +eaten scarcely anything for several days. His profile, already thinner, +stood out darkly and sharply under his cap, which was pulled down to +his eyebrows. + +'Well, brother,' he said at last, 'give us a cigarette. But look, I +say, is my tongue yellow?' + +'Yes, it is,' answered Arkady. + +'Hm ... and the cigarette's tasteless. The machine's out of gear.' + +'You look changed lately certainly,' observed Arkady. + +'It's nothing! we shall soon be all right. One thing's a bother--my +mother's so tender-hearted; if you don't grow as round as a tub, and +eat ten times a day, she's quite upset. My father's all right, he's +known all sorts of ups and downs himself. No, I can't smoke,' he added, +and he flung the cigarette into the dust of the road. + +'Do you think it's twenty miles?' asked Arkady. + +'Yes. But ask this sage here.' He indicated the peasant sitting on the +box, a labourer of Fedot's. + +But the sage only answered, 'Who's to know--miles hereabout aren't +measured,' and went on swearing in an undertone at the shaft horse for +'kicking with her head-piece,' that is, shaking with her head down. + +'Yes, yes,' began Bazarov; 'it's a lesson to you, my young friend, an +instructive example. God knows, what rot it is? Every man hangs on a +thread, the abyss may open under his feet any minute, and yet he must +go and invent all sorts of discomforts for himself, and spoil his +life.' + +'What are you alluding to?' asked Arkady. + +'I'm not alluding to anything; I'm saying straight out that we've both +behaved like fools. What's the use of talking about it! Still, I've +noticed in hospital practice, the man who's furious at his +illness--he's sure to get over it.' + +'I don't quite understand you,' observed Arkady; 'I should have thought +you had nothing to complain of.' + +'And since you don't quite understand me, I'll tell you this--to my +mind, it's better to break stones on the highroad than to let a woman +have the mastery of even the end of one's little finger. That's all +...' Bazarov was on the point of uttering his favourite word, +'romanticism,' but he checked himself, and said, 'rubbish. You don't +believe me now, but I tell you; you and I have been in feminine +society, and very nice we found it; but to throw up society like that +is for all the world like a dip in cold water on a hot day. A man +hasn't time to attend to such trifles; a man ought not to be tame, says +an excellent Spanish proverb. Now, you, I suppose, my sage friend,' he +added, turning to the peasant sitting on the box--'you've a wife?' + +The peasant showed both the friends his dull blear-eyed face. + +'A wife? Yes. Every man has a wife.' + +'Do you beat her?' + +'My wife? Everything happens sometimes. We don't beat her without good +reason!' + +'That's excellent. Well, and does she beat you?' + +The peasant gave a tug at the reins. 'That's a strange thing to say, +sir. You like your joke.'... He was obviously offended. + +'You hear, Arkady Nikolaevitch! But we have taken a beating ... that's +what comes of being educated people.' + +Arkady gave a forced laugh, while Bazarov turned away, and did not open +his mouth again the whole journey. + +The twenty miles seemed to Arkady quite forty. But at last, on the +slope of some rising ground, appeared the small hamlet where Bazarov's +parents lived. Beside it, in a young birch copse, could be seen a small +house with a thatched roof. + +Two peasants stood with their hats on at the first hut, abusing each +other. 'You're a great sow,' said one; 'and worse than a little sucking +pig.' + +'And your wife's a witch,' retorted the other. + +'From their unconstrained behaviour,' Bazarov remarked to Arkady, 'and +the playfulness of their retorts, you can guess that my father's +peasants are not too much oppressed. Why, there he is himself coming +out on the steps of his house. They must have heard the bells. It's he; +it's he--I know his figure. Ay, ay! how grey he's grown though, poor +chap!' + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Bazarov leaned out of the coach, while Arkady thrust his head out +behind his companion's back, and caught sight on the steps of the +little manor-house of a tall, thinnish man with dishevelled hair, and a +thin hawk nose, dressed in an old military coat not buttoned up. He was +standing, his legs wide apart, smoking a long pipe and screwing up his +eyes to keep the sun out of them. + +The horses stopped. + +'Arrived at last,' said Bazarov's father, still going on smoking though +the pipe was fairly dancing up and down between his fingers. 'Come, get +out; get out; let me hug you.' + +He began embracing his son ... 'Enyusha, Enyusha,' was heard a +trembling woman's voice. The door was flung open, and in the doorway +was seen a plump, short, little old woman in a white cap and a short +striped jacket. She moaned, staggered, and would certainly have fallen, +had not Bazarov supported her. Her plump little hands were instantly +twined round his neck, her head was pressed to his breast, and there +was a complete hush. The only sound heard was her broken sobs. + +Old Bazarov breathed hard and screwed his eyes up more than ever. + +'There, that's enough, that's enough, Arisha! give over,' he said, +exchanging a glance with Arkady, who remained motionless in the coach, +while the peasant on the box even turned his head away; 'that's not at +all necessary, please give over.' + +'Ah, Vassily Ivanitch,' faltered the old woman, 'for what ages, my dear +one, my darling, Enyusha,' ... and, not unclasping her hands, she drew +her wrinkled face, wet with tears and working with tenderness, a little +away from Bazarov, and gazed at him with blissful and comic-looking +eyes, and again fell on his neck. + +'Well, well, to be sure, that's all in the nature of things,' commented +Vassily Ivanitch, 'only we'd better come indoors. Here's a visitor come +with Yevgeny. You must excuse it,' he added, turning to Arkady, and +scraping with his foot; 'you understand, a woman's weakness; and well, +a mother's heart ...' + +His lips and eyebrows too were twitching, and his beard was quivering +... but he was obviously trying to control himself and appear almost +indifferent. + +'Let's come in, mother, really,' said Bazarov, and he led the enfeebled +old woman into the house. Putting her into a comfortable armchair, he +once more hurriedly embraced his father and introduced Arkady to him. + +'Heartily glad to make your acquaintance,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, +'but you mustn't expect great things; everything here in my house is +done in a plain way, on a military footing. Arina Vlasyevna, calm +yourself, pray; what weakness! The gentleman our guest will think ill +of you.' + +'My dear sir,' said the old lady through her tears, 'your name and your +father's I haven't the honour of knowing....' + +'Arkady Nikolaitch,' put in Vassily Ivanitch solemnly, in a low voice. + +'You must excuse a silly old woman like me.' The old woman blew her +nose, and bending her head to right and to left, carefully wiped one +eye after the other. 'You must excuse me. You see, I thought I should +die, that I should not live to see my da .. arling.' + +'Well, here we have lived to see him, madam,' put in Vassily +Ivanovitch. 'Tanyushka,' he turned to a bare-legged little girl of +thirteen in a bright red cotton dress, who was timidly peeping in at +the door, 'bring your mistress a glass of water--on a tray, do you +hear?--and you, gentlemen,' he added, with a kind of old-fashioned +playfulness, 'let me ask you into the study of a retired old veteran.' + +'Just once more let me embrace you, Enyusha,' moaned Arina Vlasyevna. +Bazarov bent down to her. 'Why, what a handsome fellow you have grown!' + +'Well, I don't know about being handsome,' remarked Vassily Ivanovitch, +'but he's a man, as the saying is, _ommfay_. And now I hope, Arina +Vlasyevna, that having satisfied your maternal heart, you will turn +your thoughts to satisfying the appetites of our dear guests, because, +as you're aware, even nightingales can't be fed on fairy tales.' + +The old lady got up from her chair. 'This minute, Vassily Ivanovitch, +the table shall be laid. I will run myself to the kitchen and order the +samovar to be brought in; everything shall be ready, everything. Why, I +have not seen him, not given him food or drink these three years; is +that nothing?' + +'There, mind, good mother, bustle about; don't put us to shame; while +you, gentlemen, I beg you to follow me. Here's Timofeitch come to pay +his respects to you, Yevgeny. He, too, I daresay, is delighted, the old +dog. Eh, aren't you delighted, old dog? Be so good as to follow me.' + +And Vassily Ivanovitch went bustling forward, scraping and flapping +with his slippers trodden down at heel. + +His whole house consisted of six tiny rooms. One of them--the one to +which he led our friends--was called the study. A thick-legged table, +littered over with papers black with the accumulation of ancient dust +as though they had been smoked, occupied all the space between the two +windows; on the walls hung Turkish firearms, whips, a sabre, two maps, +some anatomical diagrams, a portrait of Hoffland, a monogram woven in +hair in a blackened frame, and a diploma under glass; a leather sofa, +torn and worn into hollows in parts, was placed between two huge +cupboards of birch-wood; on the shelves books, boxes, stuffed birds, +jars, and phials were huddled together in confusion; in one corner +stood a broken galvanic battery. + +'I warned you, my dear Arkady Nikolaitch,' began Vassily Ivanitch, +'that we live, so to say, bivouacking....' + +'There, stop that, what are you apologising for?' Bazarov interrupted. +'Kirsanov knows very well we're not Croesuses, and that you have no +butler. Where are we going to put him, that's the question?' + +'To be sure, Yevgeny; I have a capital room there in the little lodge; +he will be very comfortable there.' + +'Have you had a lodge put up then?' + +'Why, where the bath-house is,' put in Timofeitch. + +'That is next to the bathroom,' Vassily Ivanitch added hurriedly. 'It's +summer now ... I will run over there at once, and make arrangements; +and you, Timofeitch, meanwhile bring in their things. You, Yevgeny, I +shall of course offer my study. _Suum cuique_.' + +'There you have him! A comical old chap, and very good-natured,' +remarked Bazarov, directly Vassily Ivanitch had gone. 'Just such a +queer fish as yours, only in another way. He chatters too much.' + +'And your mother seems an awfully nice woman,' observed Arkady. + +'Yes, there's no humbug about her. You'll see what a dinner she'll give +us.' + +'They didn't expect you to-day, sir; they've not brought any beef?' +observed Timofeitch, who was just dragging in Bazarov's box. + +'We shall get on very well without beef. It's no use crying for the +moon. Poverty, they say, is no vice.' + +'How many serfs has your father?' Arkady asked suddenly. + +'The estate's not his, but mother's; there are fifteen serfs, if I +remember.' + +'Twenty-two in all,' Timofeitch added, with an air of displeasure. + +The flapping of slippers was heard, and Vassily Ivanovitch reappeared. +'In a few minutes your room will be ready to receive you,' he cried +triumphantly. Arkady ... Nikolaitch? I think that is right? And here is +your attendant,' he added, indicating a short-cropped boy, who had come +in with him in a blue full-skirted coat with ragged elbows and a pair +of boots which did not belong to him. 'His name is Fedka. Again, I +repeat, even though my son tells me not to, you mustn't expect great +things. He knows how to fill a pipe, though. You smoke, of course?' + +'I generally smoke cigars,' answered Arkady. + +'And you do very sensibly. I myself give the preference to cigars, but +in these solitudes it is exceedingly difficult to obtain them.' + +'There, that's enough humble pie,' Bazarov interrupted again. 'You'd +much better sit here on the sofa and let us have a look at you.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch laughed and sat down. He was very like his son in +face, only his brow was lower and narrower, and his mouth rather wider, +and he was for ever restless, shrugging up his shoulder as though his +coat cut him under the armpits, blinking, clearing his throat, and +gesticulating with his fingers, while his son was distinguished by a +kind of nonchalant immobility. + +'Humble-pie!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch. 'You must not imagine, +Yevgeny, I want to appeal, so to speak, to our guest's sympathies by +making out we live in such a wilderness. Quite the contrary, I maintain +that for a thinking man nothing is a wilderness. At least, I try as far +as possible not to get rusty, so to speak, not to fall behind the age.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch drew out of his pocket a new yellow silk +handkerchief, which he had had time to snatch up on the way to Arkady's +room, and flourishing it in the air, he proceeded: 'I am not now +alluding to the fact that, for example, at the cost of sacrifices not +inconsiderable for me, I have put my peasants on the rent-system and +given up my land to them on half profits. I regarded that as my duty; +common sense itself enjoins such a proceeding, though other proprietors +do not even dream of it; I am alluding to the sciences, to culture.' + +'Yes; I see you have here _The Friend of Health_ for 1855,' remarked +Bazarov. + +'It's sent me by an old comrade out of friendship,' Vassily Ivanovitch +made haste to answer; 'but we have, for instance, some idea even of +phrenology,' he added, addressing himself principally, however, to +Arkady, and pointing to a small plaster head on the cupboard, divided +into numbered squares; 'we are not unacquainted even with Schenlein and +Rademacher.' + +'Why do people still believe in Rademacher in this province?' asked +Bazarov. + +Vassily Ivanovitch cleared his throat. 'In this province.... Of course, +gentlemen, you know best; how could we keep pace with you? You are here +to take our places. In my day, too, there was some sort of a +Humouralist school, Hoffmann, and Brown too with his vitalism--they +seemed very ridiculous to us, but, of course, they too had been great +men at one time or other. Some one new has taken the place of +Rademacher with you; you bow down to him, but in another twenty years +it will be his turn to be laughed at.' + +'For your consolation I will tell you,' observed Bazarov, 'that +nowadays we laugh at medicine altogether, and don't bow down to any +one.' + +'How's that? Why, you're going to be a doctor, aren't you?' + +'Yes, but the one fact doesn't prevent the other.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch poked his third finger into his pipe, where a little +smouldering ash was still left. 'Well, perhaps, perhaps--I am not going +to dispute. What am I? A retired army-doctor, _volla-too_; now fate has +made me take to farming. I served in your grandfather's brigade,' he +addressed himself again to Arkady; 'yes, yes, I have seen many sights +in my day. And I was thrown into all kinds of society, brought into +contact with all sorts of people! I myself, the man you see before you +now, have felt the pulse of Prince Wittgenstein and of Zhukovsky! They +were in the southern army, in the fourteenth, you understand' (and here +Vassily Ivanovitch pursed his mouth up significantly). 'Well, well, but +my business was on one side; stick to your lancet, and let everything +else go hang! Your grandfather was a very honourable man, a real +soldier.' + +'Confess, now, he was rather a blockhead,' remarked Bazarov lazily. + +'Ah, Yevgeny, how can you use such an expression! Do consider.... Of +course, General Kirsanov was not one of the ...' + +'Come, drop him,' broke in Bazarov; 'I was pleased as I was driving +along here to see your birch copse; it has shot up capitally.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch brightened up. 'And you must see what a little +garden I've got now! I planted every tree myself. I've fruit, and +raspberries, and all kinds of medicinal herbs. However clever you young +gentlemen may be, old Paracelsus spoke the holy truth: _in herbis +verbis et lapidibus_.... I've retired from practice, you know, of +course, but two or three times a week it will happen that I'm brought +back to my old work. They come for advice--I can't drive them away. +Sometimes the poor have recourse to me for help. And indeed there are +no doctors here at all. There's one of the neighbours here, a retired +major, only fancy, he doctors the people too. I asked the question, +"Has he studied medicine?" And they told me, "No, he's not studied; he +does it more from philanthropy."... Ha! ha! ha! from philanthropy! What +do you think of that? Ha! ha! ha!' + +'Fedka, fill me a pipe!' said Bazarov rudely. + +'And there's another doctor here who just got to a patient,' Vassily +Ivanovitch persisted in a kind of desperation, 'when the patient had +gone _ad patres_; the servant didn't let the doctor speak; you're no +longer wanted, he told him. He hadn't expected this, got confused, and +asked, "Why, did your master hiccup before his death?" "Yes." "Did he +hiccup much?" "Yes." "Ah, well, that's all right," and off he set back +again. Ha! ha! ha!' + +The old man was alone in his laughter; Arkady forced a smile on his +face. Bazarov simply stretched. The conversation went on in this way +for about an hour; Arkady had time to go to his room, which turned out +to be the anteroom attached to the bathroom, but was very snug and +clean. At last Tanyusha came in and announced that dinner was ready. + +Vassily Ivanovitch was the first to get up. 'Come, gentlemen. You must +be magnanimous and pardon me if I've bored you. I daresay my good wife +will give you more satisfaction.' + +The dinner, though prepared in haste, turned out to be very good, even +abundant; only the wine was not quite up to the mark; it was almost +black sherry, bought by Timofeitch in the town at a well-known +merchant's, and had a faint coppery, resinous taste, and the flies were +a great nuisance. On ordinary days a serf-boy used to keep driving them +away with a large green branch; but on this occasion Vassily Ivanovitch +had sent him away through dread of the criticism of the younger +generation. Arina Vlasyevna had had time to dress: she had put on a +high cap with silk ribbons and a pale blue flowered shawl. She broke +down again directly she caught sight of her Enyusha, but her husband +had no need to admonish her; she made haste to wipe away her tears +herself, for fear of spotting her shawl. Only the young men ate +anything; the master and mistress of the house had dined long ago. +Fedka waited at table, obviously encumbered by having boots on for the +first time; he was assisted by a woman of a masculine cast of face and +one eye, by name Anfisushka, who performed the duties of housekeeper, +poultry-woman, and laundress. Vassily Ivanovitch walked up and down +during the whole of dinner, and with a perfectly happy, positively +beatific countenance, talked about the serious anxiety he felt at +Napoleon's policy, and the intricacy of the Italian question. Arina +Vlasyevna took no notice of Arkady. She did not press him to eat; +leaning her round face, to which the full cherry-coloured lips and the +little moles on the cheeks and over the eyebrows gave a very simple +good-natured expression, on her little closed fist, she did not take +her eyes off her son, and kept constantly sighing; she was dying to +know for how long he had come, but she was afraid to ask him. + +'What if he says for two days,' she thought, and her heart sank. After +the roast Vassily Ivanovitch disappeared for an instant, and returned +with an opened half-bottle of champagne. 'Here,' he cried, 'though we +do live in the wilds, we have something to make merry with on festive +occasions!' He filled three champagne glasses and a little wineglass, +proposed the health of 'our inestimable guests,' and at once tossed off +his glass in military fashion; while he made Arina Vlasyevna drink her +wineglass to the last drop. When the time came in due course for +preserves, Arkady, who could not bear anything sweet, thought it his +duty, however, to taste four different kinds which had been freshly +made, all the more as Bazarov flatly refused them and began at once +smoking a cigarette. Then tea came on the scene with cream, butter, and +cracknels; then Vassily Ivanovitch took them all into the garden to +admire the beauty of the evening. As they passed a garden seat he +whispered to Arkady-- + +'At this spot I love to meditate, as I watch the sunset; it suits a +recluse like me. And there, a little farther off, I have planted some +of the trees beloved of Horace.' + +'What trees?' asked Bazarov, overhearing. + +'Oh ... acacias.' + +Bazarov began to yawn. + +'I imagine it's time our travellers were in the arms of Morpheus,' +observed Vassily Ivanovitch. + +'That is, it's time for bed,' Bazarov put in. 'That's a correct idea. +It is time, certainly.' + +As he said good-night to his mother, he kissed her on the forehead, +while she embraced him, and stealthily behind his back she gave him her +blessing three times. Vassily Ivanovitch conducted Arkady to his room, +and wished him 'as refreshing repose as I enjoyed at your happy years.' +And Arkady did as a fact sleep excellently in his bath-house; there was +a smell of mint in it, and two crickets behind the stove rivalled each +other in their drowsy chirping. Vassily Ivanovitch went from Arkady's +room to his study, and perching on the sofa at his son's feet, he was +looking forward to having a chat with him; but Bazarov at once sent him +away, saying he was sleepy, and did not fall asleep till morning. With +wide open eyes he stared vindictively into the darkness; the memories +of childhood had no power over him; and besides, he had not yet had +time to get rid of the impression of his recent bitter emotions. Arina +Vlasyevna first prayed to her heart's content, then she had a long, +long conversation with Anfisushka, who stood stock-still before her +mistress, and fixing her solitary eye upon her, communicated in a +mysterious whisper all her observations and conjectures in regard to +Yevgeny Vassilyevitch. The old lady's head was giddy with happiness and +wine and tobacco smoke; her husband tried to talk to her, but with a +wave of his hand gave it up in despair. + +Arina Vlasyevna was a genuine Russian gentlewoman of the olden times; +she ought to have lived two centuries before, in the old Moscow days. +She was very devout and emotional; she believed in fortune-telling, +charms, dreams, and omens of every possible kind; she believed in the +prophecies of crazy people, in house-spirits, in wood-spirits, in +unlucky meetings, in the evil eye, in popular remedies, she ate +specially prepared salt on Holy Thursday, and believed that the end of +the world was at hand; she believed that if on Easter Sunday the lights +did not go out at vespers, then there would be a good crop of +buckwheat, and that a mushroom will not grow after it has been looked +on by the eye of man; she believed that the devil likes to be where +there is water, and that every Jew has a blood-stained patch on his +breast; she was afraid of mice, of snakes, of frogs, of sparrows, of +leeches, of thunder, of cold water, of draughts, of horses, of goats, +of red-haired people, and black cats, and she regarded crickets and +dogs as unclean beasts; she never ate veal, doves, crayfishes, cheese, +asparagus, artichokes, hares, nor water-melons, because a cut +water-melon suggested the head of John the Baptist, and of oysters she +could not speak without a shudder; she was fond of eating--and fasted +rigidly; she slept ten hours out of the twenty-four--and never went to +bed at all if Vassily Ivanovitch had so much as a headache; she had +never read a single book except _Alexis or the Cottage in the Forest_; +she wrote one, or at the most two letters in a year, but was great in +housewifery, preserving, and jam-making, though with her own hands she +never touched a thing, and was generally disinclined to move from her +place. Arina Vlasyevna was very kindhearted, and in her way not at all +stupid. She knew that the world is divided into masters whose duty it +is to command, and simple folk whose duty it is to serve them--and so +she felt no repugnance to servility and prostrations to the ground; but +she treated those in subjection to her kindly and gently, never let a +single beggar go away empty-handed, and never spoke ill of any one, +though she was fond of gossip. In her youth she had been pretty, had +played the clavichord, and spoken French a little; but in the course of +many years' wanderings with her husband, whom she had married against +her will, she had grown stout, and forgotten music and French. Her son +she loved and feared unutterably; she had given up the management of +the property to Vassily Ivanovitch--and now did not interfere in +anything; she used to groan, wave her handkerchief, and raise her +eyebrows higher and higher with horror directly her old husband began +to discuss the impending government reforms and his own plans. She was +apprehensive, and constantly expecting some great misfortune, and began +to weep directly she remembered anything sorrowful.... Such women are +not common nowadays. God knows whether we ought to rejoice! + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +On getting up Arkady opened the window, and the first object that met +his view was Vassily Ivanovitch. In an Oriental dressing-gown girt +round the waist with a pocket-handkerchief he was industriously digging +in his garden. He perceived his young visitor, and leaning on his +spade, he called, 'The best of health to you! How have you slept?' + +'Capitally,' answered Arkady. + +'Here am I, as you see, like some Cincinnatus, marking out a bed for +late turnips. The time has come now--and thank God for it!--when every +one ought to obtain his sustenance with his own hands; it's useless to +reckon on others; one must labour oneself. And it turns out that Jean +Jacques Rousseau is right. Half an hour ago, my dear young gentleman, +you might have seen me in a totally different position. One peasant +woman, who complained of looseness--that's how they express it, but in +our language, dysentery--I ... how can I express it best? I +administered opium, and for another I extracted a tooth. I proposed an +anaesthetic to her ... but she would not consent. All that I do +_gratis_--_anamatyer_ (_en amateur_). I'm used to it, though; you see, +I'm a plebeian, _homo novus_--not one of the old stock, not like my +spouse.... Wouldn't you like to come this way into the shade, to +breathe the morning freshness a little before tea?' + +Arkady went out to him. + +'Welcome once again,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, raising his hand in a +military salute to the greasy skull-cap which covered his head. 'You, I +know, are accustomed to luxury, to amusements, but even the great ones +of this world do not disdain to spend a brief space under a cottage +roof.' + +'Good heavens,' protested Arkady, 'as though I were one of the great +ones of this world! And I'm not accustomed to luxury.' + +'Pardon me, pardon me,' rejoined Vassily Ivanovitch with a polite +simper. 'Though I am laid on the shelf now, I have knocked about the +world too--I can tell a bird by its flight. I am something of a +psychologist too in my own way, and a physiognomist. If I had not, I +will venture to say, been endowed with that gift, I should have come to +grief long ago; I should have stood no chance, a poor man like me. I +tell you without flattery, I am sincerely delighted at the friendship I +observe between you and my son. I have just seen him; he got up as he +usually does--no doubt you are aware of it--very early, and went a +ramble about the neighbourhood. Permit me to inquire--have you known my +son long?' + +'Since last winter.' + +'Indeed. And permit me to question you further--but hadn't we better +sit down? Permit me, as a father, to ask without reserve, What is your +opinion of my Yevgeny?' + +'Your son is one of the most remarkable men I have ever met,' Arkady +answered emphatically. + +Vassily Ivanovitch's eyes suddenly grew round, and his cheeks were +suffused with a faint flush. The spade fell out of his hand. + +'And so you expect,' he began ... + +'I'm convinced,' Arkady put in, 'that your son has a great future +before him; that he will do honour to your name. I've been certain of +that ever since I first met him.' + +'How ... how was that?' Vassily Ivanovitch articulated with an effort. +His wide mouth was relaxed in a triumphant smile, which would not leave +it. + +'Would you like me to tell you how we met?' + +'Yes ... and altogether....' + +Arkady began to tell his tale, and to talk of Bazarov with even greater +warmth, even greater enthusiasm than he had done on the evening when he +danced a mazurka with Madame Odintsov. + +Vassily Ivanovitch listened and listened, blinked, and rolled his +handkerchief up into a ball in both his hands, cleared his throat, +ruffled up his hair, and at last could stand it no longer; he bent down +to Arkady and kissed him on his shoulder. 'You have made me perfectly +happy,' he said, never ceasing to smile. 'I ought to tell you, I ... +idolise my son; my old wife I won't speak of--we all know what mothers +are!--but I dare not show my feelings before him, because he doesn't +like it. He is averse to every kind of demonstration of feeling; many +people even find fault with him for such firmness of character, and +regard it as a proof of pride or lack of feeling, but men like him +ought not to be judged by the common standard, ought they? And here, +for example, many another fellow in his place would have been a +constant drag on his parents; but he, would you believe it? has never +from the day he was born taken a farthing more than he could help, +that's God's truth!' + +'He is a disinterested, honest man,' observed Arkady. + +'Exactly so; he is disinterested. And I don't only idolise him, Arkady +Nikolaitch, I am proud of him, and the height of my ambition is that +some day there will be the following lines in his biography: "The son +of a simple army-doctor, who was, however, capable of divining his +greatness betimes, and spared nothing for his education ..."' The old +man's voice broke. + +Arkady pressed his hand. + +'What do you think,' inquired Vassily Ivanovitch, after a short +silence, 'will it be in the career of medicine that he will attain the +celebrity you anticipate for him?' + +'Of course, not in medicine, though even in that department he will be +one of the leading scientific men.' + +'In what then, Arkady Nikolaitch?' + +'It would he hard to say now, but he will be famous.' + +'He will be famous!' repeated the old man, and he sank into a reverie. + +'Arina Vlasyevna sent me to call you in to tea,' announced Anfisushka, +coming by with an immense dish of ripe raspberries. + +Vassily Ivanovitch started. 'And will there be cooled cream for the +raspberries?' + +'Yes.' + +'Cold now, mind! Don't stand on ceremony, Arkady Nikolaitch; take some +more. How is it Yevgeny doesn't come?' + +'I'm here,' was heard Bazarov's voice from Arkady's room. + +Vassily Ivanovitch turned round quickly. 'Aha! you wanted to pay a +visit to your friend; but you were too late, _amice_, and we have +already had a long conversation with him. Now we must go in to tea, +mother summons us. By the way, I want to have a little talk with you.' + +'What about?' + +'There's a peasant here; he's suffering from icterus.... + +'You mean jaundice?' + +'Yes, a chronic and very obstinate case of icterus. I have prescribed +him centaury and St. John's wort, ordered him to eat carrots, given him +soda; but all that's merely palliative measures; we want some more +decided treatment. Though you do laugh at medicine, I am certain you +can give me practical advice. But we will talk of that later. Now come +in to tea.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up briskly from the garden seat, and hummed +from _Robert le Diable_-- + + 'The rule, the rule we set ourselves, + To live, to live for pleasure!' + +'Singular vitality!' observed Bazarov, going away from the window. + +It was midday. The sun was burning hot behind a thin veil of unbroken +whitish clouds. Everything was hushed; there was no sound but the cocks +crowing irritably at one another in the village, producing in every one +who heard them a strange sense of drowsiness and ennui; and somewhere, +high up in a tree-top, the incessant plaintive cheep of a young hawk. +Arkady and Bazarov lay in the shade of a small haystack, putting under +themselves two armfuls of dry and rustling, but still greenish and +fragrant grass. + +'That aspen-tree,' began Bazarov, 'reminds me of my childhood; it grows +at the edge of the clay-pits where the bricks were dug, and in those +days I believed firmly that that clay-pit and aspen-tree possessed a +peculiar talismanic power; I never felt dull near them. I did not +understand then that I was not dull, because I was a child. Well, now +I'm grown up, the talisman's lost its power.' + +'How long did you live here altogether?' asked Arkady. + +'Two years on end; then we travelled about. We led a roving life, +wandering from town to town for the most part.' + +'And has this house been standing long?' + +'Yes. My grandfather built it--my mother's father.' + +'Who was he--your grandfather?' + +'Devil knows. Some second-major. He served with Suvorov, and was always +telling stories about the crossing of the Alps--inventions probably.' + +'You have a portrait of Suvorov hanging in the drawing-room. I like +these dear little houses like yours; they're so warm and old-fashioned; +and there's always a special sort of scent about them.' + +'A smell of lamp-oil and clover,' Bazarov remarked, yawning. 'And the +flies in those dear little houses.... Faugh!' + +'Tell me,' began Arkady, after a brief pause, 'were they strict with +you when you were a child?' + +'You can see what my parents are like. They're not a severe sort.' + +'Are you fond of them, Yevgeny?' + +'I am, Arkady.' + +'How fond they are of you!' + +Bazarov was silent for a little. 'Do you know what I'm thinking about?' +he brought out at last, clasping his hands behind his head. + +'No. What is it?' + +'I'm thinking life is a happy thing for my parents. My father at sixty +is fussing around, talking about "palliative" measures, doctoring +people, playing the bountiful master with the peasants--having a +festive time, in fact; and my mother's happy too; her day's so chockful +of duties of all sorts, and sighs and groans that she's no time even to +think of herself; while I ...' + +'While you?' + +'I think; here I lie under a haystack.... The tiny space I occupy is so +infinitely small in comparison with the rest of space, in which I am +not, and which has nothing to do with me; and the period of time in +which it is my lot to live is so petty beside the eternity in which I +have not been, and shall not be.... And in this atom, this mathematical +point, the blood is circulating, the brain is working and wanting +something.... Isn't it loathsome? Isn't it petty?' + +'Allow me to remark that what you're saying applies to men in general.' + +'You are right,' Bazarov cut in. 'I was going to say that they now--my +parents, I mean--are absorbed and don't trouble themselves about their +own nothingness; it doesn't sicken them ... while I ... I feel nothing +but weariness and anger.' + +'Anger? why anger?' + +'Why? How can you ask why? Have you forgotten?' + +'I remember everything, but still I don't admit that you have any right +to be angry. You're unlucky, I'll allow, but ...' + +'Pooh! then you, Arkady Nikolaevitch, I can see, regard love like all +modern young men; cluck, cluck, cluck you call to the hen, but if the +hen comes near you, you run away. I'm not like that. But that's enough +of that. What can't be helped, it's shameful to talk about.' He turned +over on his side. 'Aha! there goes a valiant ant dragging off a +half-dead fly. Take her, brother, take her! Don't pay attention to her +resistance; it's your privilege as an animal to be free from the +sentiment of pity--make the most of it--not like us conscientious +self-destructive animals!' + +'You shouldn't say that, Yevgeny! When have you destroyed yourself?' + +Bazarov raised his head. 'That's the only thing I pride myself on. I +haven't crushed myself, so a woman can't crush me. Amen! It's all over! +You shall not hear another word from me about it.' + +Both the friends lay for some time in silence. + +'Yes,' began Bazarov, 'man's a strange animal. When one gets a side +view from a distance of the dead-alive life our "fathers" lead here, +one thinks, What could be better? You eat and drink, and know you are +acting in the most reasonable, most judicious manner. But if not, +you're devoured by ennui. One wants to have to do with people if only +to abuse them.' + +'One ought so to order one's life that every moment in it should be of +significance,' Arkady affirmed reflectively. + +'I dare say! What's of significance is sweet, however mistaken; one +could make up one's mind to what's insignificant even. But pettiness, +pettiness, that's what's insufferable.' + +'Pettiness doesn't exist for a man so long as he refuses to recognise +it.' + +'H'm ... what you've just said is a common-place reversed.' + +'What? What do you mean by that term?' + +'I'll tell you; saying, for instance, that education is beneficial, +that's a common-place; but to say that education is injurious, that's a +common-place turned upside down. There's more style about it, so to +say, but in reality it's one and the same.' + +'And the truth is--where, which side?' + +'Where? Like an echo I answer, Where?' + +'You're in a melancholy mood to-day, Yevgeny.' + +'Really? The sun must have softened my brain, I suppose, and I can't +stand so many raspberries either.' + +'In that case, a nap's not a bad thing,' observed Arkady. + +'Certainly; only don't look at me; every man's face is stupid when he's +asleep.' + +'But isn't it all the same to you what people think of you?' + +'I don't know what to say to you. A real man ought not to care; a real +man is one whom it's no use thinking about, whom one must either obey +or hate.' + +'It's funny! I don't hate anybody,' observed Arkady, after a moment's +thought. + +'And I hate so many. You are a soft-hearted, mawkish creature; how +could you hate any one?... You're timid; you don't rely on yourself +much.' + +'And you,' interrupted Arkady, 'do you expect much of yourself? Have +you a high opinion of yourself?' + +Bazarov paused. 'When I meet a man who can hold his own beside me,' he +said, dwelling on every syllable, 'then I'll change my opinion of +myself. Yes, hatred! You said, for instance, to-day as we passed our +bailiff Philip's cottage--it's the one that's so nice and clean--well, +you said, Russia will come to perfection when the poorest peasant has a +house like that, and every one of us ought to work to bring it +about.... And I felt such a hatred for this poorest peasant, this +Philip or Sidor, for whom I'm to be ready to jump out of my skin, and +who won't even thank me for it ... and why should he thank me? Why, +suppose he does live in a clean house, while the nettles are growing +out of me,--well what do I gain by it?' + +'Hush, Yevgeny ... if one listened to you to-day one would be driven to +agreeing with those who reproach us for want of principles.' + +'You talk like your uncle. There are no general principles--you've not +made out that even yet! There are feelings. Everything depends on +them.' + +'How so?' + +'Why, I, for instance, take up a negative attitude, by virtue of my +sensations; I like to deny--my brain's made on that plan, and that's +all about it! Why do I like chemistry? Why do you like apples?--by +virtue of our sensations. It's all the same thing. Deeper than that men +will never penetrate. Not every one will tell you that, and, in fact, I +shan't tell you so another time.' + +'What? and is honesty a matter of the senses?' + +'I should rather think so.' + +'Yevgeny!' Arkady was beginning in a dejected voice ... + +'Well? What? Isn't it to your taste?' broke in Bazarov. 'No, brother. +If you've made up your mind to mow down everything, don't spare your +own legs. But we've talked enough metaphysics. "Nature breathes the +silence of sleep," said Pushkin.' + +'He never said anything of the sort,' protested Arkady. + +'Well, if he didn't, as a poet he might have--and ought to have said +it. By the way, he must have been a military man.' + +'Pushkin never was a military man!' + +'Why, on every page of him there's, "To arms! to arms! for Russia's +honour!"' + +'Why, what stories you invent! I declare, it's positive calumny.' + +'Calumny? That's a mighty matter! What a word he's found to frighten me +with! Whatever charge you make against a man, you may be certain he +deserves twenty times worse than that in reality.' + +'We had better go to sleep,' said Arkady, in a tone of vexation. + +'With the greatest pleasure,' answered Bazarov. But neither of them +slept. A feeling almost of hostility had come over both the young men. +Five minutes later, they opened their eyes and glanced at one another +in silence. + +'Look,' said Arkady suddenly, 'a dry maple leaf has come off and is +falling to the earth; its movement is exactly like a butterfly's +flight. Isn't it strange? Gloom and decay--like brightness and life.' + +'Oh, my friend, Arkady Nikolaitch!' cried Bazarov, 'one thing I entreat +of you; no fine talk.' + +'I talk as best I can.... And, I declare, its perfect despotism. An +idea came into my head; why shouldn't I utter it?' + +'Yes; and why shouldn't I utter my ideas? I think that fine talk's +positively indecent.' + +'And what is decent? Abuse?' + +'Ha! ha! you really do intend, I see, to walk in your uncle's +footsteps. How pleased that worthy imbecile would have been if he had +heard you!' + +'What did you call Pavel Petrovitch?' + +'I called him, very justly, an imbecile.' + +'But this is unbearable!' cried Arkady. + +'Aha! family feeling spoke there,' Bazarov commented coolly. 'I've +noticed how obstinately it sticks to people. A man's ready to give up +everything and break with every prejudice; but to admit that his +brother, for instance, who steals handkerchiefs, is a thief--that's too +much for him. And when one comes to think of it: my brother, mine--and +no genius ... that's an idea no one can swallow.' + +'It was a simple sense of justice spoke in me and not in the least +family feeling,' retorted Arkady passionately. 'But since that's a +sense you don't understand, since you haven't that sensation, you can't +judge of it.' + +'In other words, Arkady Kirsanov is too exalted for my comprehension. I +bow down before him and say no more.' + +'Don't, please, Yevgeny; we shall really quarrel at last.' + +'Ah, Arkady! do me a kindness. I entreat you, let us quarrel for once +in earnest....' + +'But then perhaps we should end by ...' + +'Fighting?' put in Bazarov. 'Well? Here, on the hay, in these idyllic +surroundings, far from the world and the eyes of men, it wouldn't +matter. But you'd be no match for me. I'll have you by the throat in a +minute.' + +Bazarov spread out his long, cruel fingers.... Arkady turned round and +prepared, as though in jest, to resist.... But his friend's face struck +him as so vindictive--there was such menace in grim earnest in the +smile that distorted his lips, and in his glittering eyes, that he felt +instinctively afraid. + +'Ah! so this is where you have got to!' the voice of Vassily Ivanovitch +was heard saying at that instant, and the old army-doctor appeared +before the young men, garbed in a home-made linen pea-jacket, with a +straw hat, also home-made, on his head. 'I've been looking everywhere +for you.... Well, you've picked out a capital place, and you're +excellently employed. Lying on the "earth, gazing up to heaven." Do you +know, there's a special significance in that?' + +'I never gaze up to heaven except when I want to sneeze,' growled +Bazarov, and turning to Arkady he added in an undertone. 'Pity he +interrupted us.' + +'Come, hush!' whispered Arkady, and he secretly squeezed his friend's +hand. But no friendship can long stand such shocks. + +'I look at you, my youthful friends,' Vassily Ivanovitch was saying +meantime, shaking his head, and leaning his folded arms on a rather +cunningly bent stick of his own carving, with a Turk's figure for a +top,--'I look, and I cannot refrain from admiration. You have so much +strength, such youth and bloom, such abilities, such talents! +Positively, a Castor and Pollux!' + +'Get along with you--going off into mythology!' commented Bazarov. 'You +can see at once that he was a great Latinist in his day! Why, I seem to +remember, you gained the silver medal for Latin prose--didn't you?' + +'The Dioscuri, the Dioscuri!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch. + +'Come, shut up, father; don't show off.' + +'Once in a way it's surely permissible,' murmured the old man. +'However, I have not been seeking for you, gentlemen, to pay you +compliments; but with the object, in the first place, of announcing to +you that we shall soon be dining; and secondly, I wanted to prepare +you, Yevgeny.... You are a sensible man, you know the world, and you +know what women are, and consequently you will excuse.... Your mother +wished to have a Te Deum sung on the occasion of your arrival. You must +not imagine that I am inviting you to attend this thanksgiving--it is +over indeed now; but Father Alexey ...' + +'The village parson?' + +'Well, yes, the priest; he ... is to dine ... with us.... I did not +anticipate this, and did not even approve of it ... but it somehow came +about ... he did not understand me.... And, well ... Arina Vlasyevna +... Besides, he's a worthy, reasonable man.' + +'He won't eat my share at dinner, I suppose?' queried Bazarov. + +Vassily Ivanovitch laughed. 'How you talk!' + +'Well, that's all I ask. I'm ready to sit down to table with any man.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch set his hat straight. 'I was certain before I +spoke,' he said, 'that you were above any kind of prejudice. Here am I, +an old man at sixty-two, and I have none.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not +dare to confess that he had himself desired the thanksgiving service. +He was no less religious than his wife.) 'And Father Alexey very much +wanted to make your acquaintance. You will like him, you'll see. He's +no objection even to cards, and he sometimes--but this is between +ourselves ... positively smokes a pipe.' + +'All right. We'll have a round of whist after dinner, and I'll clean +him out.' + +'He! he! he! We shall see! That remains to be seen.' + +'I know you're an old hand,' said Bazarov, with a peculiar emphasis. + +Vassily Ivanovitch's bronzed cheeks were suffused with an uneasy flush. + +'For shame, Yevgeny.... Let bygones be bygones. Well, I'm ready to +acknowledge before this gentleman I had that passion in my youth; and I +have paid for it too! How hot it is, though! Let me sit down with you. +I shan't be in your way, I hope?' + +'Oh, not at all,' answered Arkady. + +Vassily Ivanovitch lowered himself, sighing, into the hay. 'Your +present quarters remind me, my dear sirs,' he began, 'of my military +bivouacking existence, the ambulance halts, somewhere like this under a +haystack, and even for that we were thankful.' He sighed. 'I had many, +many experiences in my life. For example, if you will allow me, I will +tell you a curious episode of the plague in Bessarabia.' + +'For which you got the Vladimir cross?' put in Bazarov. 'We know, we +know.... By the way, why is it you're not wearing it?' + +'Why, I told you that I have no prejudices,' muttered Vassily +Ivanovitch (he had only the evening before had the red ribbon unpicked +off his coat), and he proceeded to relate the episode of the plague. +'Why, he's fallen asleep,' he whispered all at once to Arkady, pointing +to Yevgeny, and winking good-naturedly. 'Yevgeny! get up,' he went on +aloud. 'Let's go in to dinner.' + +Father Alexey, a good-looking stout man with thick, carefully-combed +hair, with an embroidered girdle round his lilac silk cassock, appeared +to be a man of much tact and adaptability. He made haste to be the +first to offer his hand to Arkady and Bazarov, as though understanding +beforehand that they did not want his blessing, and he behaved himself +in general without constraint. He neither derogated from his own +dignity, nor gave offence to others; he vouchsafed a passing smile at +the seminary Latin, and stood up for his bishop; drank two small +glasses of wine, but refused a third; accepted a cigar from Arkady, but +did not proceed to smoke it, saying he would take it home with him. The +only thing not quite agreeable about him was a way he had of constantly +raising his hand with care and deliberation to catch the flies on his +face, sometimes succeeding in smashing them. He took his seat at the +green table, expressing his satisfaction at so doing in measured terms, +and ended by winning from Bazarov two roubles and a half in paper +money; they had no idea of even reckoning in silver in the house of +Arina Vlasyevna.... She was sitting, as before, near her son (she did +not play cards), her cheek, as before, propped on her little fist; she +only got up to order some new dainty to be served. She was afraid to +caress Bazarov, and he gave her no encouragement, he did not invite her +caresses; and besides, Vassily Ivanovitch had advised her not to +'worry' him too much. 'Young men are not fond of that sort of thing,' +he declared to her. (It's needless to say what the dinner was like that +day; Timofeitch in person had galloped off at early dawn for beef; the +bailiff had gone off in another direction for turbot, gremille, and +crayfish; for mushrooms alone forty-two farthings had been paid the +peasant women in copper); but Arina Vlasyevna's eyes, bent steadfastly +on Bazarov, did not express only devotion and tenderness; in them was +to be seen sorrow also, mingled with awe and curiosity; there was to be +seen too a sort of humble reproachfulness. + +Bazarov, however, was not in a humour to analyse the exact expression +of his mother's eyes; he seldom turned to her, and then only with some +short question. Once he asked her for her hand 'for luck'; she gently +laid her soft, little hand on his rough, broad palm. + +'Well,' she asked, after waiting a little, 'has it been any use?' + +'Worse luck than ever,' he answered, with a careless laugh. + +'He plays too rashly,' pronounced Father Alexey, as it were +compassionately, and he stroked his beard. + +'Napoleon's rule, good Father, Napoleon's rule,' put in Vassily +Ivanovitch, leading an ace. + +'It brought him to St. Helena, though,' observed Father Alexey, as he +trumped the ace. + +'Wouldn't you like some currant tea, Enyusha?' inquired Arina +Vlasyevna. + +Bazarov merely shrugged his shoulders. + +'No!' he said to Arkady the next day. I'm off from here to-morrow. I'm +bored; I want to work, but I can't work here. I will come to your place +again; I've left all my apparatus there too. In your house one can at +any rate shut oneself up. While here my father repeats to me, "My study +is at your disposal--nobody shall interfere with you," and all the time +he himself is never a yard away. And I'm ashamed somehow to shut myself +away from him. It's the same thing too with mother. I hear her sighing +the other side of the wall, and if one goes in to her, one's nothing to +say to her.' + +'She will be very much grieved,' observed Arkady, 'and so will he.' + +'I shall come back again to them.' + +'When?' + +'Why, when on my way to Petersburg.' + +'I feel sorry for your mother particularly.' + +'Why's that? Has she won your heart with strawberries, or what?' + +Arkady dropped his eyes. 'You don't understand your mother, Yevgeny. +She's not only a very good woman, she's very clever really. This +morning she talked to me for half-an-hour, and so sensibly, +interestingly.' + +'I suppose she was expatiating upon me all the while?' + +'We didn't talk only about you.' + +'Perhaps; lookers-on see most. If a woman can keep up half-an-hour's +conversation, it's always a hopeful sign. But I'm going, all the same.' + +'It won't be very easy for you to break it to them. They are always +making plans for what we are to do in a fortnight's time.' + +'No; it won't be easy. Some demon drove me to tease my father to-day; +he had one of his rent-paying peasants flogged the other day, and quite +right too--yes, yes, you needn't look at me in such horror--he did +quite right, because he's an awful thief and drunkard; only my father +had no idea that I, as they say, was cognisant of the facts. He was +greatly perturbed, and now I shall have to upset him more than ever.... +Never mind! Never say die! He'll get over it!' + +Bazarov said, 'Never mind'; but the whole day passed before he could +make up his mind to inform Vassily Ivanovitch of his intentions. At +last, when he was just saying good-night to him in the study, he +observed, with a feigned yawn-- + +'Oh ... I was almost forgetting to tell you.... Send to Fedot's for our +horses to-morrow.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch was dumbfounded. 'Is Mr. Kirsanov leaving us, then?' + +'Yes; and I'm going with him.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch positively reeled. 'You are going?' + +'Yes ... I must. Make the arrangements about the horses, please.' + +'Very good....' faltered the old man; 'to Fedot's ... very good ... +only ... only.... How is it?' + +'I must go to stay with him for a little time. I will come back again +later.' + +'Ah! For a little time ... very good.' Vassily Ivanovitch drew out his +handkerchief, and, blowing his nose, doubled up almost to the ground. +'Well ... everything shall be done. I had thought you were to be with +us ... a little longer. Three days.... After three years, it's rather +little; rather little, Yevgeny!' + +'But, I tell you, I'm coming back directly. It's necessary for me to +go.' + +'Necessary.... Well! Duty before everything. So the horses shall be in +readiness. Very good. Arina and I, of course, did not anticipate this. +She has just begged some flowers from a neighbour; she meant to +decorate the room for you.' (Vassily Ivanovitch did not even mention +that every morning almost at dawn he took counsel with Timofeitch, +standing with his bare feet in his slippers, and pulling out with +trembling fingers one dog's-eared rouble note after another, charged +him with various purchases, with special reference to good things to +eat, and to red wine, which, as far as he could observe, the young men +liked extremely.) 'Liberty ... is the great thing; that's my rule.... I +don't want to hamper you ... not ...' + +He suddenly ceased, and made for the door. + +'We shall soon see each other again, father, really.' + +But Vassily Ivanovitch, without turning round, merely waved his hand +and was gone. When he got back to his bedroom he found his wife in bed, +and began to say his prayers in a whisper, so as not to wake her up. +She woke, however. 'Is that you, Vassily Ivanovitch?' she asked. + +'Yes, mother.' + +'Have you come from Enyusha? Do you know, I'm afraid of his not being +comfortable on that sofa. I told Anfisushka to put him on your +travelling mattress and the new pillows; I should have given him our +feather-bed, but I seem to remember he doesn't like too soft a bed....' + +'Never mind, mother; don't worry yourself. He's all right. Lord, have +mercy on me, a sinner,' he went on with his prayer in a low voice. +Vassily Ivanovitch was sorry for his old wife; he did not mean to tell +her over night what a sorrow there was in store for her. + +Bazarov and Arkady set off the next day. From early morning all was +dejection in the house; Anfisushka let the tray slip out of her hands; +even Fedka was bewildered, and was reduced to taking off his boots. +Vassily Ivanitch was more fussy than ever; he was obviously trying to +put a good face on it, talked loudly, and stamped with his feet, but +his face looked haggard, and his eyes were continually avoiding his +son. Arina Vlasyevna was crying quietly; she was utterly crushed, and +could not have controlled herself at all if her husband had not spent +two whole hours early in the morning exhorting her. When Bazarov, after +repeated promises to come back certainly not later than in a month's +time, tore himself at last from the embraces detaining him, and took +his seat in the coach; when the horses had started, the bell was +ringing, and the wheels were turning round, and when it was no longer +any good to look after them, and the dust had settled, and Timofeitch, +all bent and tottering as he walked, had crept back to his little room; +when the old people were left alone in their little house, which seemed +suddenly to have grown shrunken and decrepit too, Vassily Ivanovitch, +after a few more moments of hearty waving of his handkerchief on the +steps, sank into a chair, and his head dropped on to his breast. 'He +has cast us off; he has forsaken us,' he faltered; 'forsaken us; he was +dull with us. Alone, alone!' he repeated several times. Then Arina +Vlasyevna went up to him, and, leaning her grey head against his grey +head, said, 'There's no help for it, Vasya! A son is a separate piece +cut off. He's like the falcon that flies home and flies away at his +pleasure; while you and I are like funguses in the hollow of a tree, we +sit side by side, and don't move from our place. Only I am left you +unchanged for ever, as you for me.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch took his hands from his face and clasped his wife, +his friend, as warmly as he had never clasped in youth; she comforted +him in his grief. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +In silence, only rarely exchanging a few insignificant words, our +friends travelled as far as Fedot's. Bazarov was not altogether pleased +with himself. Arkady was displeased with him. He was feeling, too, that +causeless melancholy which is only known to very young people. The +coachman changed the horses, and getting up on to the box, inquired, +'To the right or to the left?' + +Arkady started. The road to the right led to the town, and from there +home; the road to the left led to Madame Odintsov's. + +He looked at Bazarov. + +'Yevgeny,' he queried; 'to the left?' + +Bazarov turned away. 'What folly is this?' he muttered. + +'I know it's folly,' answered Arkady.... 'But what does that matter? +It's not the first time.' + +Bazarov pulled his cap down over his brows. 'As you choose,' he said at +last. 'Turn to the left,' shouted Arkady. + +The coach rolled away in the direction of Nikolskoe. But having +resolved on the folly, the friends were even more obstinately silent +than before, and seemed positively ill-humoured. + +Directly the steward met them on the steps of Madame Odintsov's house, +the friends could perceive that they had acted injudiciously in giving +way so suddenly to a passing impulse. They were obviously not expected. +They sat rather a long while, looking rather foolish, in the +drawing-room. Madame Odintsov came in to them at last. She greeted them +with her customary politeness, but was surprised at their hasty return; +and, so far as could be judged from the deliberation of her gestures +and words, she was not over pleased at it. They made haste to announce +that they had only called on their road, and must go on farther, to the +town, within four hours. She confined herself to a light exclamation, +begged Arkady to remember her to his father, and sent for her aunt. The +princess appeared very sleepy, which gave her wrinkled old face an even +more ill-natured expression. Katya was not well; she did not leave her +room. Arkady suddenly realised that he was at least as anxious to see +Katya as Anna Sergyevna herself. The four hours were spent in +insignificant discussion of one thing and another; Anna Sergyevna both +listened and spoke without a smile. It was only quite at parting that +her former friendliness seemed, as it were, to revive. + +'I have an attack of spleen just now,' she said; 'but you must not pay +attention to that, and come again--I say this to both of you--before +long.' + +Both Bazarov and Arkady responded with a silent bow, took their seats +in the coach, and without stopping again anywhere, went straight home +to Maryino, where they arrived safely on the evening of the following +day. During the whole course of the journey neither one nor the other +even mentioned the name of Madame Odintsov; Bazarov, in particular, +scarcely opened his mouth, and kept staring in a side direction away +from the road, with a kind of exasperated intensity. + +At Maryino every one was exceedingly delighted to see them. The +prolonged absence of his son had begun to make Nikolai Petrovitch +uneasy; he uttered a cry of joy, and bounced about on the sofa, +dangling his legs, when Fenitchka ran to him with sparkling eyes, and +informed him of the arrival of the 'young gentlemen'; even Pavel +Petrovitch was conscious of some degree of agreeable excitement, and +smiled condescendingly as he shook hands with the returned wanderers. +Talk, questions followed; Arkady talked most, especially at supper, +which was prolonged long after midnight. Nikolai Petrovitch ordered up +some bottles of porter which had only just been sent from Moscow, and +partook of the festive beverage till his cheeks were crimson, and he +kept laughing in a half-childish, half-nervous little chuckle. Even the +servants were infected by the general gaiety. Dunyasha ran up and down +like one possessed, and was continually slamming doors; while Piotr +was, at three o'clock in the morning, still attempting to strum a +Cossack waltz on the guitar. The strings gave forth a sweet and +plaintive sound in the still air; but with the exception of a small +preliminary flourish, nothing came of the cultured valet's efforts; +nature had given him no more musical talent than all the rest of the +world. + +But meanwhile things were not going over harmoniously at Maryino, and +poor Nikolai Petrovitch was having a bad time of it. Difficulties on +the farm sprang up every day--senseless, distressing difficulties. The +troubles with the hired labourers had become insupportable. Some asked +for their wages to be settled, or for an increase of wages, while +others made off with the wages they had received in advance; the horses +fell sick; the harness fell to pieces as though it were burnt; the work +was carelessly done; a threshing machine that had been ordered from +Moscow turned out to be useless from its great weight, another was +ruined the first time it was used; half the cattle sheds were burnt +down through an old blind woman on the farm going in windy weather with +a burning brand to fumigate her cow ... the old woman, it is true, +maintained that the whole mischief could be traced to the master's plan +of introducing newfangled cheeses and milk-products. The overseer +suddenly turned lazy, and began to grow fat, as every Russian grows fat +when he gets a snug berth. When he caught sight of Nikolai Petrovitch +in the distance, he would fling a stick at a passing pig, or threaten a +half-naked urchin, to show his zeal, but the rest of the time he was +generally asleep. The peasants who had been put on the rent system did +not bring their money at the time due, and stole the forest-timber; +almost every night the keepers caught peasants' horses in the meadows +of the 'farm,' and sometimes forcibly bore them off. Nikolai Petrovitch +would fix a money fine for damages, but the matter usually ended after +the horses had been kept a day or two on the master's forage by their +returning to their owners. To crown all, the peasants began quarrelling +among themselves; brothers asked for a division of property, their +wives could not get on together in one house; all of a sudden the +squabble, as though at a given signal, came to a head, and at once the +whole village came running to the counting-house steps, crawling to the +master often drunken and with battered face, demanding justice and +judgment; then arose an uproar and clamour, the shrill wailing of the +women mixed with the curses of the men. Then one had to examine the +contending parties, and shout oneself hoarse, knowing all the while +that one could never anyway arrive at a just decision.... There were +not hands enough for the harvest; a neighbouring small owner, with the +most benevolent countenance, contracted to supply him with reapers for +a commission of two roubles an acre, and cheated him in the most +shameless fashion; his peasant women demanded unheard-of sums, and the +corn meanwhile went to waste; and here they were not getting on with +the mowing, and there the Council of Guardians threatened and demanded +prompt payment, in full, of interest due.... + +'I can do nothing!' Nikolai Petrovitch cried more than once in despair. +'I can't flog them myself; and as for calling in the police captain, my +principles don't allow of it, while you can do nothing with them +without the fear of punishment!' + +'_Du calme_, _du calme_,' Pavel Petrovitch would remark upon this, but +even he hummed to himself, knitted his brows, and tugged at his +moustache. + +Bazarov held aloof from these matters, and indeed as a guest it was not +for him to meddle in other people's business. The day after his arrival +at Maryino, he set to work on his frogs, his infusoria, and his +chemical experiments, and was for ever busy with them. Arkady, on the +contrary, thought it his duty, if not to help his father, at least to +make a show of being ready to help him. He gave him a patient hearing, +and once offered him some advice, not with any idea of its being acted +upon, but to show his interest. Farming details did not arouse any +aversion in him; he used even to dream with pleasure of work on the +land, but at this time his brain was swarming with other ideas. Arkady, +to his own astonishment, thought incessantly of Nikolskoe; in former +days he would simply have shrugged his shoulders if any one had told +him that he could ever feel dull under the same roof as Bazarov--and +that roof his father's! but he actually was dull and longed to get +away. He tried going long walks till he was tired, but that was no use. +In conversation with his father one day, he found out that Nikolai +Petrovitch had in his possession rather interesting letters, written by +Madame Odintsov's mother to his wife, and he gave him no rest till he +got hold of the letters, for which Nikolai Petrovitch had to rummage in +twenty drawers and boxes. Having gained possession of these +half-crumbling papers, Arkady felt, as it were, soothed, just as though +he had caught a glimpse of the goal towards which he ought now to go. +'I mean that for both of you,' he was constantly whispering--she had +added that herself! 'I'll go, I'll go, hang it all!' But he recalled +the last visit, the cold reception, and his former embarrassment, and +timidity got the better of him. The 'go-ahead' feeling of youth, the +secret desire to try his luck, to prove his powers in solitude, without +the protection of any one whatever, gained the day at last. Before ten +days had passed after his return to Maryino, on the pretext of studying +the working of the Sunday schools, he galloped off to the town again, +and from there to Nikolskoe. Urging the driver on without intermission, +he flew along, like a young officer riding to battle; and he felt both +frightened and light-hearted, and was breathless with impatience. 'The +great thing is--one mustn't think,' he kept repeating to himself. His +driver happened to be a lad of spirit; he halted before every public +house, saying, 'A drink or not a drink?' but, to make up for it, when +he had drunk he did not spare his horses. At last the lofty roof of the +familiar house came in sight.... 'What am I to do?' flashed through +Arkady's head. 'Well, there's no turning back now!' The three horses +galloped in unison; the driver whooped and whistled at them. And now +the bridge was groaning under the hoofs and wheels, and now the avenue +of lopped pines seemed running to meet them.... There was a glimpse of +a woman's pink dress against the dark green, a young face from under +the light fringe of a parasol.... He recognised Katya, and she +recognised him. Arkady told the driver to stop the galloping horses, +leaped out of the carriage, and went up to her. 'It's you!' she cried, +gradually flushing all over; 'let us go to my sister, she's here in the +garden; she will be pleased to see you.' + +Katya led Arkady into the garden. His meeting with her struck him as a +particularly happy omen; he was delighted to see her, as though she +were of his own kindred. Everything had happened so splendidly; no +steward, no formal announcement. At a turn in the path he caught sight +of Anna Sergyevna. She was standing with her back to him. Hearing +footsteps, she turned slowly round. + +Arkady felt confused again, but the first words she uttered soothed him +at once. 'Welcome back, runaway!' she said in her even, caressing +voice, and came to meet him, smiling and frowning to keep the sun and +wind out of her eyes. 'Where did you pick him up, Katya?' + +'I have brought you something, Anna Sergyevna,' he began, 'which you +certainly don't expect.' + +'You have brought yourself; that's better than anything.' + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +Having seen Arkady off with ironical compassion, and given him to +understand that he was not in the least deceived as to the real object +of his journey, Bazarov shut himself up in complete solitude; he was +overtaken by a fever for work. He did not dispute now with Pavel +Petrovitch, especially as the latter assumed an excessively +aristocratic demeanour in his presence, and expressed his opinions more +in inarticulate sounds than in words. Only on one occasion Pavel +Petrovitch fell into a controversy with the _nihilist_ on the subject +of the question then much discussed of the rights of the nobles of the +Baltic province; but suddenly he stopped of his own accord, remarking +with chilly politeness, 'However, we cannot understand one another; I, +at least, have not the honour of understanding you.' + +'I should think not!' cried Bazarov. 'A man's capable of understanding +anything--how the aether vibrates, and what's going on in the sun--but +how any other man can blow his nose differently from him, that he's +incapable of understanding.' + +'What, is that an epigram?' observed Pavel Petrovitch inquiringly, and +he walked away. + +However, he sometimes asked permission to be present at Bazarov's +experiments, and once even placed his perfumed face, washed with the +very best soap, near the microscope to see how a transparent infusoria +swallowed a green speck, and busily munched it with two very rapid sort +of clappers which were in its throat. Nikolai Petrovitch visited +Bazarov much oftener than his brother; he would have come every day, as +he expressed it, to 'study,' if his worries on the farm had not taken +off his attention. He did not hinder the young man in his scientific +researches; he used to sit down somewhere in a corner of the room and +look on attentively, occasionally permitting himself a discreet +question. During dinner and supper-time he used to try to turn the +conversation upon physics, geology, or chemistry, seeing that all other +topics, even agriculture, to say nothing of politics, might lead, if +not to collisions, at least to mutual unpleasantness. Nikolai +Petrovitch surmised that his brother's dislike for Bazarov was no less. +An unimportant incident, among many others, confirmed his surmises. The +cholera began to make its appearance in some places in the +neighbourhood, and even 'carried off' two persons from Maryino itself. +In the night Pavel Petrovitch happened to have rather severe symptoms. +He was in pain till the morning, but did not have recourse to Bazarov's +skill. And when he met him the following day, in reply to his question, +'Why he had not sent for him?' answered, still quite pale, but +scrupulously brushed and shaved, 'Why, I seem to recollect you said +yourself you didn't believe in medicine.' So the days went by. Bazarov +went on obstinately and grimly working ... and meanwhile there was in +Nikolai Petrovitch's house one creature to whom, if he did not open his +heart, he at least was glad to talk.... That creature was Fenitchka. + +He used to meet her for the most part early in the morning, in the +garden, or the farmyard; he never used to go to her room to see her, +and she had only once been to his door to inquire--ought she to let +Mitya have his bath or not? It was not only that she confided in him, +that she was not afraid of him--she was positively freer and more at +her ease in her behaviour with him than with Nikolai Petrovitch +himself. It is hard to say how it came about; perhaps it was because +she unconsciously felt the absence in Bazarov of all gentility, of all +that superiority which at once attracts and overawes. In her eyes he +was both an excellent doctor and a simple man. She looked after her +baby without constraint in his presence; and once when she was suddenly +attacked with giddiness and headache--she took a spoonful of medicine +from his hand. Before Nikolai Petrovitch she kept, as it were, at a +distance from Bazarov; she acted in this way not from hypocrisy, but +from a kind of feeling of propriety. Pavel Petrovitch she was more +afraid of than ever; for some time he had begun to watch her, and would +suddenly make his appearance, as though he sprang out of the earth +behind her back, in his English suit, with his immovable vigilant face, +and his hands in his pockets. 'It's like a bucket of cold water on +one,' Fenitchka complained to Dunyasha, and the latter sighed in +response, and thought of another 'heartless' man. Bazarov, without the +least suspicion of the fact, had become the _cruel tyrant_ of her +heart. + +Fenitchka liked Bazarov; but he liked her too. His face was positively +transformed when he talked to her; it took a bright, almost kind +expression, and his habitual nonchalance was replaced by a sort of +jesting attentiveness. Fenitchka was growing prettier every day. There +is a time in the life of young women when they suddenly begin to expand +and blossom like summer roses; this time had come for Fenitchka. +Dressed in a delicate white dress, she seemed herself slighter and +whiter; she was not tanned by the sun; but the heat, from which she +could not shield herself, spread a slight flush over her cheeks and +ears, and, shedding a soft indolence over her whole body, was reflected +in a dreamy languor in her pretty eyes. She was almost unable to work; +her hands seem to fall naturally into her lap. She scarcely walked at +all, and was constantly sighing and complaining with comic +helplessness. + +'You should go oftener to bathe,' Nikolai Petrovitch told her. He had +made a large bath covered in with an awning in one of his ponds which +had not yet quite disappeared. + +'Oh, Nikolai Petrovitch! But by the time one gets to the pond, one's +utterly dead, and, coming back, one's dead again. You see, there's no +shade in the garden.' + +'That's true, there's no shade,' replied Nikolai Petrovitch, rubbing +his forehead. + +One day at seven o'clock in the morning Bazarov, returning from a walk, +came upon Fenitchka in the lilac arbour, which was long past flowering, +but was still thick and green. She was sitting on the garden seat, and +had as usual thrown a white kerchief over her head; near her lay a +whole heap of red and white roses still wet with dew. He said good +morning to her. + +'Ah! Yevgeny Vassilyitch!' she said, and lifted the edge of her +kerchief a little to look at him, in doing which her arm was left bare +to the elbow. + +'What are you doing here?' said Bazarov, sitting down beside her. 'Are +you making a nosegay?' + +'Yes, for the table at lunch. Nikolai Petrovitch likes it.' + +'But it's a long while yet to lunch time. What a heap of flowers!' + +'I gathered them now, for it will be hot then, and one can't go out. +One can only just breathe now. I feel quite weak with the heat. I'm +really afraid whether I'm not going to be ill.' + +'What an idea! Let me feel your pulse.' Bazarov took her hand, felt for +the evenly-beating pulse, but did not even begin to count its throbs. +'You'll live a hundred years!' he said, dropping her hand. + +'Ah, God forbid!' she cried. + +'Why? Don't you want a long life?' + +'Well, but a hundred years! There was an old woman near us eighty-five +years old--and what a martyr she was! Dirty and deaf and bent and +coughing all the time; nothing but a burden to herself. That's a +dreadful life!' + +'So it's better to be young?' + +'Well, isn't it?' + +'But why is it better? Tell me!' + +'How can you ask why? Why, here I now, while I'm young, I can do +everything--go and come and carry, and needn't ask any one for +anything.... What can be better?' + +'And to me it's all the same whether I'm young or old.' + +'How do you mean--it's all the same? It's not possible what you say.' + +'Well, judge for yourself, Fedosya Nikolaevna, what good is my youth to +me. I live alone, a poor lonely creature ...' + +'That always depends on you.' + +'It doesn't at all depend on me! At least, some one ought to take pity +on me.' + +Fenitchka gave a sidelong look at Bazarov, but said nothing. 'What's +this book you have?' she asked after a short pause. + +'That? That's a scientific book, very difficult.' + +'And are you still studying? And don't you find it dull? You know +everything already I should say.' + +'It seems not everything. You try to read a little.' + +'But I don't understand anything here. Is it Russian?' asked Fenitchka, +taking the heavily bound book in both hands. 'How thick it is!' + +'Yes, it's Russian.' + +'All the same, I shan't understand anything.' + +'Well, I didn't give it you for you to understand it. I wanted to look +at you while you were reading. When you read, the end of your little +nose moves so nicely.' + +Fenitchka, who had set to work to spell out in a low voice the article +on 'Creosote' she had chanced upon, laughed and threw down the book ... +it slipped from the seat on to the ground. + +'Nonsense!' + +'I like it too when you laugh,' observed Bazarov. + +'I like it when you talk. It's just like a little brook babbling.' + +Fenitchka turned her head away. 'What a person you are to talk!' she +commented, picking the flowers over with her finger. 'And how can you +care to listen to me? You have talked with such clever ladies.' + +'Ah, Fedosya Nikolaevna! believe me; all the clever ladies in the world +are not worth your little elbow.' + +'Come, there's another invention!' murmured Fenitchka, clasping her +hands. + +Bazarov picked the book up from the ground. + +'That's a medical book; why do you throw it away?' + +'Medical?' repeated Fenitchka, and she turned to him again. 'Do you +know, ever since you gave me those drops--do you remember?--Mitya has +slept so well! I really can't think how to thank you; you are so good, +really.' + +'But you have to pay doctors,' observed Bazarov with a smile. 'Doctors, +you know yourself, are grasping people.' + +Fenitchka raised her eyes, which seemed still darker from the whitish +reflection cast on the upper part of her face, and looked at Bazarov. +She did not know whether he was joking or not. + +'If you please, we shall be delighted.... I must ask Nikolai +Petrovitch ...' + +'Why, do you think I want money?' Bazarov interposed. 'No; I don't want +money from you.' + +'What then?' asked Fenitchka. + +'What?' repeated Bazarov. 'Guess!' + +'A likely person I am to guess!' + +'Well, I will tell you; I want ... one of those roses.' + +Fenitchka laughed again, and even clapped her hands, so amusing +Bazarov's request seemed to her. She laughed, and at the same time felt +flattered. Bazarov was looking intently at her. + +'By all means,' she said at last; and, bending down to the seat, she +began picking over the roses. 'Which will you have--a red one or a +white one?' + +'Red, and not too large.' + +She sat up again. 'Here, take it,' she said, but at once drew back her +outstretched hand, and, biting her lips, looked towards the entrance of +the arbour, then listened. + +'What is it?' asked Bazarov. 'Nikolai Petrovitch?' + +'No ... Mr. Kirsanov has gone to the fields ... besides, I'm not afraid +of him ... but Pavel Petrovitch ... I fancied ...' + +'What?' + +'I fancied he was coming here. No ... it was no one. Take it.' +Fenitchka gave Bazarov the rose. + +'On what grounds are you afraid of Pavel Petrovitch?' + +'He always scares me. And I know you don't like him. Do you remember, +you always used to quarrel with him? I don't know what your quarrel was +about, but I can see you turn him about like this and like that.' + +Fenitchka showed with her hands how in her opinion Bazarov turned Pavel +Petrovitch about. + +Bazarov smiled. 'But if he gave me a beating,' he asked, 'would you +stand up for me?' + +'How could I stand up for you? but no, no one will get the better of +you.' + +'Do you think so? But I know a hand which could overcome me if it +liked.' + +'What hand?' + +'Why, don't you know, really? Smell, how delicious this rose smells you +gave me.' + +Fenitchka stretched her little neck forward, and put her face close to +the flower.... The kerchief slipped from her head on to her shoulders; +her soft mass of dark, shining, slightly ruffled hair was visible. + +'Wait a minute; I want to smell it with you,' said Bazarov. He bent +down and kissed her vigorously on her parted lips. + +She started, pushed him back with both her hands on his breast, but +pushed feebly, and he was able to renew and prolong his kiss. + +A dry cough was heard behind the lilac bushes. Fenitchka instantly +moved away to the other end of the seat. Pavel Petrovitch showed +himself, made a slight bow, and saying with a sort of malicious +mournfulness, 'You are here,' he retreated. Fenitchka at once gathered +up all her roses and went out of the arbour. 'It was wrong of you, +Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' she whispered as she went. There was a note of +genuine reproach in her whisper. + +Bazarov remembered another recent scene, and he felt both shame and +contemptuous annoyance. But he shook his head directly, ironically +congratulated himself 'on his final assumption of the part of the gay +Lothario,' and went off to his own room. + +Pavel Petrovitch went out of the garden, and made his way with +deliberate steps to the copse. He stayed there rather a long while; and +when he returned to lunch, Nikolai Petrovitch inquired anxiously +whether he were quite well--his face looked so gloomy. + +'You know, I sometimes suffer with my liver,' Pavel Petrovitch answered +tranquilly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +Two hours later he knocked at Bazarov's door. + +'I must apologise for hindering you in your scientific pursuits,' he +began, seating himself on a chair in the window, and leaning with both +hands on a handsome walking-stick with an ivory knob (he usually walked +without a stick), 'but I am constrained to beg you to spare me five +minutes of your time ... no more.' + +'All my time is at your disposal,' answered Bazarov, over whose face +there passed a quick change of expression directly Pavel Petrovitch +crossed the threshold. + +'Five minutes will be enough for me. I have come to put a single +question to you.' + +'A question? What is it about?' + +'I will tell you, if you will kindly hear me out. At the commencement +of your stay in my brother's house, before I had renounced the pleasure +of conversing with you, it was my fortune to hear your opinions on many +subjects; but so far as my memory serves, neither between us, nor in my +presence, was the subject of single combats and duelling in general +broached. Allow me to hear what are your views on that subject?' + +Bazarov, who had risen to meet Pavel Petrovitch, sat down on the edge +of the table and folded his arms. + +'My view is,' he said, 'that from the theoretical standpoint, duelling +is absurd; from the practical standpoint, now--it's quite a different +matter.' + +'That is, you mean to say, if I understand you right, that whatever +your theoretical views on duelling, you would not in practice allow +yourself to be insulted without demanding satisfaction?' + +'You have guessed my meaning absolutely.' + +'Very good. I am very glad to hear you say so. Your words relieve me +from a state of incertitude.' + +'Of uncertainty, you mean to say.' + +'That is all the same! I express myself so as to be understood; I ... +am not a seminary rat. Your words save me from a rather deplorable +necessity. I have made up my mind to fight you.' + +Bazarov opened his eyes wide. 'Me?' + +'Undoubtedly.' + +'But what for, pray?' + +'I could explain the reason to you,' began Pavel Petrovitch, 'but I +prefer to be silent about it. To my idea your presence here is +superfluous; I cannot endure you; I despise you; and if that is not +enough for you ...' + +Pavel Petrovitch's eyes glittered ... Bazarov's too were flashing. + +'Very good,' he assented. 'No need of further explanations. You've a +whim to try your chivalrous spirit upon me. I might refuse you this +pleasure, but--so be it!' + +'I am sensible of my obligation to you,' replied Pavel Petrovitch; 'and +may reckon then on your accepting my challenge without compelling me to +resort to violent measures.' + +'That means, speaking without metaphor, to that stick?' Bazarov +remarked coolly. 'That is precisely correct. It's quite unnecessary for +you to insult me. Indeed, it would not be a perfectly safe proceeding. +You can remain a gentleman.... I accept your challenge, too, like a +gentleman.' + +'That is excellent,' observed Pavel Petrovitch, putting his stick in +the corner. 'We will say a few words directly about the conditions of +our duel; but I should like first to know whether you think it +necessary to resort to the formality of a trifling dispute, which might +serve as a pretext for my challenge?' + +'No; it's better without formalities.' + +'I think so myself. I presume it is also out of place to go into the +real grounds of our difference. We cannot endure one another. What more +is necessary?' + +'What more, indeed?' repeated Bazarov ironically. + +'As regards the conditions of the meeting itself, seeing that we shall +have no seconds--for where could we get them?' + +'Exactly so; where could we get them?' + +'Then I have the honour to lay the following proposition before you: +The combat to take place early to-morrow, at six, let us say, behind +the copse, with pistols, at a distance of ten paces....' + +'At ten paces? that will do; we hate one another at that distance.' + +'We might have it eight,' remarked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'We might.' + +'To fire twice; and, to be ready for any result, let each put a letter +in his pocket, in which he accuses himself of his end.' + +'Now, that I don't approve of at all,' observed Bazarov. 'There's a +slight flavour of the French novel about it, something not very +plausible.' + +'Perhaps. You will agree, however, that it would be unpleasant to incur +a suspicion of murder?' + +'I agree as to that. But there is a means of avoiding that painful +reproach. We shall have no seconds, but we can have a witness.' + +'And whom, allow me to inquire?' + +'Why, Piotr.' + +'What Piotr?' + +'Your brother's valet. He's a man who has attained to the acme of +contemporary culture, and he will perform his part with all the +_comilfo_ (_comme il faut_) necessary in such cases.' + +'I think you are joking, sir.' + +'Not at all. If you think over my suggestion, you will be convinced +that it's full of common-sense and simplicity. You can't hide a candle +under a bushel; but I'll undertake to prepare Piotr in a fitting +manner, and bring him on to the field of battle.' + +'You persist in jesting still,' Pavel Petrovitch declared, getting up +from his chair. 'But after the courteous readiness you have shown me, I +have no right to pretend to lay down.... And so, everything is +arranged.... By the way, perhaps you have no pistols?' + +'How should I have pistols, Pavel Petrovitch? I'm not in the army.' + +'In that case, I offer you mine. You may rest assured that it's five +years now since I shot with them.' + +'That's a very consoling piece of news.' + +Pavel Petrovitch took up his stick.... 'And now, my dear sir, it only +remains for me to thank you and to leave you to your studies. I have +the honour to take leave of you.' + +'Till we have the pleasure of meeting again, my dear sir,' said +Bazarov, conducting his visitor to the door. + +Pavel Petrovitch went out, while Bazarov remained standing a minute +before the door, and suddenly exclaimed, 'Pish, well, I'm dashed! how +fine, and how foolish! A pretty farce we've been through! Like trained +dogs dancing on their hind-paws. But to decline was out of the +question; why, I do believe he'd have struck me, and then ...' (Bazarov +turned white at the very thought; all his pride was up in arms at +once)--'then it might have come to my strangling him like a cat.' He +went back to his microscope, but his heart was beating, and the +composure necessary for taking observations had disappeared. 'He caught +sight of us to-day,' he thought; 'but would he really act like this on +his brother's account? And what a mighty matter is it--a kiss? There +must be something else in it. Bah! isn't he perhaps in love with her +himself? To be sure, he's in love; it's as clear as day. What a +complication! It's a nuisance!' he decided at last; 'it's a bad job, +look at it which way you will. In the first place, to risk a bullet +through one's brains, and in any case to go away; and then Arkady ... +and that dear innocent pussy, Nikolai Petrovitch. It's a bad job, an +awfully bad job.' + +The day passed in a kind of peculiar stillness and languor. Fenitchka +gave no sign of her existence; she sat in her little room like a mouse +in its hole. Nikolai Petrovitch had a careworn air. He had just heard +that blight had begun to appear in his wheat, upon which he had in +particular rested his hopes. Pavel Petrovitch overwhelmed every one, +even Prokofitch, with his icy courtesy. Bazarov began a letter to his +father, but tore it up, and threw it under the table. + +'If I die,' he thought, 'they will find it out; but I'm not going to +die. No, I shall struggle along in this world a good while yet.' He +gave Piotr orders to come to him on important business the next morning +directly it was light. Piotr imagined that he wanted to take him to +Petersburg with him. Bazarov went late to bed, and all night long he +was harassed by disordered dreams.... Madame Odintsov kept appearing in +them, now she was his mother, and she was followed by a kitten with +black whiskers, and this kitten seemed to be Fenitchka; then Pavel +Petrovitch took the shape of a great wood, with which he had yet to +fight. Piotr waked him up at four o'clock; he dressed at once, and went +out with him. + +It was a lovely, fresh morning; tiny flecked clouds hovered overhead in +little curls of foam on the pale clear blue; a fine dew lay in drops on +the leaves and grass, and sparkled like silver on the spiders' webs; +the damp, dark earth seemed still to keep traces of the rosy dawn; from +the whole sky the songs of larks came pouring in showers. Bazarov +walked as far as the copse, sat down in the shade at its edge, and only +then disclosed to Piotr the nature of the service he expected of him. +The refined valet was mortally alarmed; but Bazarov soothed him by the +assurance that he would have nothing to do but stand at a distance and +look on, and that he would not incur any sort of responsibility. 'And +meantime,' he added, 'only think what an important part you have to +play!' Piotr threw up his hands, looked down, and leaned against a +birch-tree, looking green with terror. + +The road from Maryino skirted the copse; a light dust lay on it, +untouched by wheel or foot since the previous day. Bazarov +unconsciously stared along this road, picked and gnawed a blade of +grass, while he kept repeating to himself, 'What a piece of foolery!' +The chill of the early morning made him shiver twice.... Piotr looked +at him dejectedly, but Bazarov only smiled; he was not afraid. + +The tramp of horses' hoofs was heard along the road.... A peasant came +into sight from behind the trees. He was driving before him two horses +hobbled together, and as he passed Bazarov he looked at him rather +strangely, without touching his cap, which it was easy to see disturbed +Piotr, as an unlucky omen. 'There's some one else up early too,' +thought Bazarov; 'but he at least has got up for work, while we ...' + +'Fancy the gentleman's coming,' Piotr faltered suddenly. + +Bazarov raised his head and saw Pavel Petrovitch. Dressed in a light +check jacket and snow-white trousers, he was walking rapidly along the +road; under his arm he carried a box wrapped up in green cloth. + +'I beg your pardon, I believe I have kept you waiting,' he observed, +bowing first to Bazarov, then to Piotr, whom he treated respectfully at +that instant, as representing something in the nature of a second. 'I +was unwilling to wake my man.' + +'It doesn't matter,' answered Bazarov; 'we've only just arrived +ourselves.' + +'Ah! so much the better!' Pavel Petrovitch took a look round. 'There's +no one in sight; no one hinders us. We can proceed?' + +'Let us proceed.' + +'You do not, I presume, desire any fresh explanations?' + +'No, I don't.' + +'Would you like to load?' inquired Pavel Petrovitch, taking the pistols +out of the box. + +'No; you load, and I will measure out the paces. My legs are longer,' +added Bazarov with a smile. 'One, two, three.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyevitch,' Piotr faltered with an effort (he shaking as +though he were in a fever), 'say what you like, I am going farther +off.' + +'Four ... five.... Good. Move away, my good fellow, move away; you may +get behind a tree even, and stop up your ears, only don't shut your +eyes; and if any one falls, run and pick him up. Six ... seven ... +eight....' Bazarov stopped. 'Is that enough?' he said, turning to Pavel +Petrovitch; 'or shall I add two paces more?' + +'As you like,' replied the latter, pressing down the second bullet. + +'Well, we'll make it two paces more.' Bazarov drew a line on the ground +with the toe of his boot. 'There's the barrier then. By the way, how +many paces may each of us go back from the barrier? That's an important +question too. That point was not discussed yesterday.' + +'I imagine, ten,' replied Pavel Petrovitch, handing Bazarov both +pistols. 'Will you be so good as to choose?' + +'I will be so good. But, Pavel Petrovitch, you must admit our combat is +singular to the point of absurdity. Only look at the countenance of our +second.' + +'You are disposed to laugh at everything,' answered Pavel Petrovitch. +'I acknowledge the strangeness of our duel, but I think it my duty to +warn you that I intend to fight seriously. _A bon entendeur, salut!_' + +'Oh! I don't doubt that we've made up our minds to make away with each +other; but why not laugh too and unite _utile dulci_? You talk to me in +French, while I talk to you in Latin.' + +'I am going to fight in earnest,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, and he +walked off to his place. Bazarov on his side counted off ten paces from +the barrier, and stood still. + +'Are you ready?' asked Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Perfectly.' + +'We can approach one another.' + +Bazarov moved slowly forward, and Pavel Petrovitch, his left hand +thrust in his pocket, walked towards him, gradually raising the muzzle +of his pistol.... 'He's aiming straight at my nose,' thought Bazarov, +'and doesn't he blink down it carefully, the ruffian! Not an agreeable +sensation though. I'm going to look at his watch chain.' + +Something whizzed sharply by his very ear, and at the same instant +there was the sound of a shot. 'I heard it, so it must be all right,' +had time to flash through Bazarov's brain. He took one more step, and +without taking aim, pressed the spring. + +Pavel Petrovitch gave a slight start, and clutched at his thigh. A +stream of blood began to trickle down his white trousers. + +Bazarov flung aside the pistol, and went up to his antagonist. 'Are you +wounded?' he said. + +'You had the right to call me up to the barrier,' said Pavel +Petrovitch, 'but that's of no consequence. According to our agreement, +each of us has the right to one more shot.' + +'All right, but, excuse me, that'll do another time,' answered Bazarov, +catching hold of Pavel Petrovitch, who was beginning to turn pale. +'Now, I'm not a duellist, but a doctor, and I must have a look at your +wound before anything else. Piotr! come here, Piotr! where have you got +to?' + +'That's all nonsense.... I need no one's aid,' Pavel Petrovitch +declared jerkily, 'and ... we must ... again ...' He tried to pull at +his moustaches, but his hand failed him, his eyes grew dim, and he lost +consciousness. + +'Here's a pretty pass! A fainting fit! What next!' Bazarov cried +unconsciously, as he laid Pavel Petrovitch on the grass. 'Let's have a +look what's wrong.' He pulled out a handkerchief, wiped away the blood, +and began feeling round the wound.... 'The bone's not touched,' he +muttered through his teeth; 'the ball didn't go deep; one muscle, +_vastus externus_, grazed. He'll be dancing about in three weeks!... +And to faint! Oh, these nervous people, how I hate them! My word, what +a delicate skin!' + +'Is he killed?' the quaking voice of Piotr came rustling behind his +back. + +Bazarov looked round. 'Go for some water as quick as you can, my good +fellow, and he'll outlive us yet.' + +But the modern servant seemed not to understand his words, and he did +not stir. Pavel Petrovitch slowly opened his eyes. 'He will die!' +whispered Piotr, and he began crossing himself. + +'You are right ... What an imbecile countenance!' remarked the wounded +gentleman with a forced smile. + +'Well, go for the water, damn you!' shouted Bazarov. + +'No need.... It was a momentary _vertigo_.... Help me to sit up ... +there, that's right.... I only need something to bind up this scratch, +and I can reach home on foot, or you can send a droshky for me. The +duel, if you are willing, shall not be renewed. You have behaved +honourably ... to-day, to-day--observe.' + +'There's no need to recall the past,' rejoined Bazarov; 'and as regards +the future, it's not worth while for you to trouble your head about +that either, for I intend being off without delay. Let me bind up your +leg now; your wound's not serious, but it's always best to stop +bleeding. But first I must bring this corpse to his senses.' + +Bazarov shook Piotr by the collar, and sent him for a droshky. + +'Mind you don't frighten my brother,' Pavel Petrovitch said to him; +'don't dream of informing him.' + +Piotr flew off; and while he was running for a droshky, the two +antagonists sat on the ground and said nothing. Pavel Petrovitch tried +not to look at Bazarov; he did not want to be reconciled to him in any +case; he was ashamed of his own haughtiness, of his failure; he was +ashamed of the whole position he had brought about, even while he felt +it could not have ended in a more favourable manner. 'At any rate, +there will be no scandal,' he consoled himself by reflecting, 'and for +that I am thankful.' The silence was prolonged, a silence distressing +and awkward. Both of them were ill at ease. Each was conscious that the +other understood him. That is pleasant to friends, and always very +unpleasant to those who are not friends, especially when it is +impossible either to have things out or to separate. + +'Haven't I bound up your leg too tight?' inquired Bazarov at last. + +'No, not at all; it's capital,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; and after a +brief pause, he added, 'There's no deceiving my brother; we shall have +to tell him we quarrelled over politics.' + +'Very good,' assented Bazarov. 'You can say I insulted all +anglomaniacs.' + +'That will do capitally. What do you imagine that man thinks of us +now?' continued Pavel Petrovitch, pointing to the same peasant, who had +driven the hobbled horses past Bazarov a few minutes before the duel, +and going back again along the road, took off his cap at the sight of +the 'gentlefolk.' + +'Who can tell!' answered Bazarov; 'it's quite likely he thinks nothing. +The Russian peasant is that mysterious unknown about whom Mrs. +Radcliffe used to talk so much. Who is to understand him! He doesn't +understand himself!' + +'Ah! so that's your idea!' Pavel Petrovitch began; and suddenly he +cried, 'Look what your fool of a Piotr has done! Here's my brother +galloping up to us!' + +Bazarov turned round and saw the pale face of Nikolai Petrovitch, who +was sitting in the droshky. He jumped out of it before it had stopped, +and rushed up to his brother. + +'What does this mean?' he said in an agitated voice. 'Yevgeny +Vassilyitch, pray, what is this?' + +'Nothing,' answered Pavel Petrovitch; 'they have alarmed you for +nothing. I had a little dispute with Mr. Bazarov, and I have had to pay +for it a little.' + +'But what was it all about, mercy on us!' + +'How can I tell you? Mr. Bazarov alluded disrespectfully to Sir Robert +Peel. I must hasten to add that I am the only person to blame in all +this, while Mr. Bazarov has behaved most honourably. I called him out.' + +'But you're covered with blood, good Heavens!' + +'Well, did you suppose I had water in my veins? But this blood-letting +is positively beneficial to me. Isn't that so, doctor? Help me to get +into the droshky, and don't give way to melancholy. I shall be quite +well to-morrow. That's it; capital. Drive on, coachman.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch walked after the droshky; Bazarov was remaining +where he was.... + +'I must ask you to look after my brother,' Nikolai Petrovitch said to +him, 'till we get another doctor from the town.' + +Bazarov nodded his head without speaking. In an hour's time Pavel +Petrovitch was already lying in bed with a skilfully bandaged leg. The +whole house was alarmed; Fenitchka fainted. Nikolai Petrovitch kept +stealthily wringing his hands, while Pavel Petrovitch laughed and +joked, especially with Bazarov; he had put on a fine cambric +night-shirt, an elegant morning wrapper, and a fez, did not allow the +blinds to be drawn down, and humorously complained of the necessity of +being kept from food. + +Towards night, however, he began to be feverish; his head ached. The +doctor arrived from the town. (Nikolai Petrovitch would not listen to +his brother, and indeed Bazarov himself did not wish him to; he sat the +whole day in his room, looking yellow and vindictive, and only went in +to the invalid for as brief a time as possible; twice he happened to +meet Fenitchka, but she shrank away from him with horror.) The new +doctor advised a cooling diet; he confirmed, however, Bazarov's +assertion that there was no danger. Nikolai Petrovitch told him his +brother had wounded himself by accident, to which the doctor responded, +'Hm!' but having twenty-five silver roubles slipped into his hand on +the spot, he observed, 'You don't say so! Well, it's a thing that often +happens, to be sure.' + +No one in the house went to bed or undressed. Nikolai Petrovitch kept +going in to his brother on tiptoe, retreating on tiptoe again; the +latter dozed, moaned a little, told him in French, _Couchez-vous_, and +asked for drink. Nikolai Petrovitch sent Fenitchka twice to take him a +glass of lemonade; Pavel Petrovitch gazed at her intently, and drank +off the glass to the last drop. Towards morning the fever had increased +a little; there was slight delirium. At first Pavel Petrovitch uttered +incoherent words; then suddenly he opened his eyes, and seeing his +brother near his bed bending anxiously over him, he said, 'Don't you +think, Nikolai, Fenitchka has something in common with Nellie?' + +'What Nellie, Pavel dear?' + +'How can you ask? Princess R----. Especially in the upper part of the +face. _C'est de la meme famille._' + +Nikolai Petrovitch made no answer, while inwardly he marvelled at the +persistence of old passions in man. 'It's like this when it comes to +the surface,' he thought. + +'Ah, how I love that light-headed creature!' moaned Pavel Petrovitch, +clasping his hands mournfully behind his head. 'I can't bear any +insolent upstart to dare to touch ...' he whispered a few minutes +later. + +Nikolai Petrovitch only sighed; he did not even suspect to whom these +words referred. + +Bazarov presented himself before him at eight o'clock the next day. He +had already had time to pack, and to set free all his frogs, insects, +and birds. + +'You have come to say good-bye to me?' said Nikolai Petrovitch, getting +up to meet him. + +'Yes.' + +'I understand you, and approve of you fully. My poor brother, of +course, is to blame; and he is punished for it. He told me himself that +he made it impossible for you to act otherwise. I believe that you +could not avoid this duel, which ... which to some extent is explained +by the almost constant antagonism of your respective views.' (Nikolai +Petrovitch began to get a little mixed up in his words.) 'My brother is +a man of the old school, hot-tempered and obstinate.... Thank God that +it has ended as it has. I have taken every precaution to avoid +publicity.' + +'I'm leaving you my address, in case there's any fuss,' Bazarov +remarked casually. + +'I hope there will be no fuss, Yevgeny Vassilyitch.... I am very sorry +your stay in my house should have such a ... such an end. It is the +more distressing to me through Arkady's ...' + +'I shall be seeing him, I expect,' replied Bazarov, in whom +'explanations' and 'protestations' of every sort always aroused a +feeling of impatience; 'in case I don't, I beg you to say good-bye to +him for me, and accept the expression of my regret.' + +'And I beg ...' answered Nikolai Petrovitch. But Bazarov went off +without waiting for the end of his sentence. + +When he heard of Bazarov's going, Pavel Petrovitch expressed a desire +to see him, and shook his hand. But even then he remained as cold as +ice; he realised that Pavel Petrovitch wanted to play the magnanimous. +He did not succeed in saying good-bye to Fenitchka; he only exchanged +glances with her at the window. Her face struck him as looking +dejected. 'She'll come to grief, perhaps,' he said to himself.... 'But +who knows? she'll pull through somehow, I dare say!' Piotr, however, +was so overcome that he wept on his shoulder, till Bazarov damped him +by asking if he'd a constant supply laid on in his eyes; while Dunyasha +was obliged to run away into the wood to hide her emotion. The +originator of all this woe got into a light cart, smoked a cigar, and +when at the third mile, at the bend in the road, the Kirsanovs' farm, +with its new house, could be seen in a long line, he merely spat, and +muttering, 'Cursed snobs!' wrapped himself closer in his cloak. + +Pavel Petrovitch was soon better; but he had to keep his bed about a +week. He bore his captivity, as he called it, pretty patiently, though +he took great pains over his toilette, and had everything scented with +eau-de-cologne. Nikolai Petrovitch used to read him the journals; +Fenitchka waited on him as before, brought him lemonade, soup, boiled +eggs, and tea; but she was overcome with secret dread whenever she went +into his room. Pavel Petrovitch's unexpected action had alarmed every +one in the house, and her more than any one; Prokofitch was the only +person not agitated by it; he discoursed upon how gentlemen in his day +used to fight, but only with real gentlemen; low curs like that they +used to order a horsewhipping in the stable for their insolence. + +Fenitchka's conscience scarcely reproached her; but she was tormented +at times by the thought of the real cause of the quarrel; and Pavel +Petrovitch too looked at her so strangely ... that even when her back +was turned, she felt his eyes upon her. She grew thinner from constant +inward agitation, and, as is always the way, became still more +charming. + +One day--the incident took place in the morning--Pavel Petrovitch felt +better and moved from his bed to the sofa, while Nikolai Petrovitch, +having satisfied himself he was better, went off to the +threshing-floor. Fenitchka brought him a cup of tea, and setting it +down on a little table, was about to withdraw. Pavel Petrovitch +detained her. + +'Where are you going in such a hurry, Fedosya Nikolaevna?' he began; +'are you busy?' + +'... I have to pour out tea.' + +'Dunyasha will do that without you; sit a little while with a poor +invalid. By the way, I must have a little talk with you.' + +Fenitchka sat down on the edge of an easy-chair, without speaking. + +'Listen,' said Pavel Petrovitch, tugging at his moustaches; 'I have +long wanted to ask you something; you seem somehow afraid of me?' + +'I?' + +'Yes, you. You never look at me, as though your conscience were not at +rest.' + +Fenitchka crimsoned, but looked at Pavel Petrovitch. He impressed her +as looking strange, and her heart began throbbing slowly. + +'Is your conscience at rest?' he questioned her. + +'Why should it not be at rest?' she faltered. + +'Goodness knows why! Besides, whom can you have wronged? Me? That is +not likely. Any other people in the house here? That, too, is something +incredible. Can it be my brother? But you love him, don't you?' + +'I love him.' + +'With your whole soul, with your whole heart?' + +'I love Nikolai Petrovitch with my whole heart.' + +'Truly? Look at me, Fenitchka.' (It was the first time he had called +her that name.) 'You know, it's a great sin telling lies!' + +'I am not telling lies, Pavel Petrovitch. Not love Nikolai +Petrovitch--I shouldn't care to live after that.' + +'And will you never give him up for any one?' + +'For whom could I give him up?' + +'For whom indeed! Well, how about that gentleman who has just gone away +from here?' + +Fenitchka got up. 'My God, Pavel Petrovitch, what are you torturing me +for? What have I done to you? How can such things be said?'... + +'Fenitchka,' said Pavel Petrovitch, in a sorrowful voice, 'you know I +saw ...' + +'What did you see?' + +'Well, there ... in the arbour.' + +Fenitchka crimsoned to her hair and to her ears. 'How was I to blame +for that?' she articulated with an effort. + +Pavel Petrovitch raised himself up. 'You were not to blame? No? Not at +all?' + +'I love Nikolai Petrovitch, and no one else in the world, and I shall +always love him!' cried Fenitchka with sudden force, while her throat +seemed fairly breaking with sobs. 'As for what you saw, at the dreadful +day of judgment I will say I'm not to blame, and wasn't to blame for +it, and I would rather die at once if people can suspect me of such a +thing against my benefactor, Nikolai Petrovitch.' + +But here her voice broke, and at the same time she felt that Pavel +Petrovitch was snatching and pressing her hand.... She looked at him, +and was fairly petrified. He had turned even paler than before; his +eyes were shining, and what was most marvellous of all, one large +solitary tear was rolling down his cheek. + +'Fenitchka!' he was saying in a strange whisper; 'love him, love my +brother! Don't give him up for any one in the world; don't listen to +any one else! Think what can be more terrible than to love and not be +loved! Never leave my poor Nikolai!' + +Fenitchka's eyes were dry, and her terror had passed away, so great was +her amazement. But what were her feelings when Pavel Petrovitch, Pavel +Petrovitch himself, put her hand to his lips and seemed to pierce into +it without kissing it, and only heaving convulsive sighs from time to +time.... + +'Goodness,' she thought, 'isn't it some attack coming on him?'... + +At that instant his whole ruined life was stirred up within him. + +The staircase creaked under rapidly approaching footsteps.... He pushed +her away from him, and let his head drop back on the pillow. The door +opened, and Nikolai Petrovitch entered, cheerful, fresh, and ruddy. +Mitya, as fresh and ruddy as his father, in nothing but his little +shirt, was frisking on his shoulder, catching the big buttons of his +rough country coat with his little bare toes. + +Fenitchka simply flung herself upon him, and clasping him and her son +together in her arms, dropped her head on his shoulder. Nikolai +Petrovitch was surprised; Fenitchka, the reserved and staid Fenitchka, +had never given him a caress in the presence of a third person. + +'What's the matter?' he said, and, glancing at his brother, he gave her +Mitya. 'You don't feel worse?' he inquired, going up to Pavel +Petrovitch. + +He buried his face in a cambric handkerchief. 'No ... not at all ... on +the contrary, I am much better.' + +'You were in too great a hurry to move on to the sofa. Where are you +going?' added Nikolai Petrovitch, turning round to Fenitchka; but she +had already closed the door behind her. 'I was bringing in my young +hero to show you, he's been crying for his uncle. Why has she carried +him off? What's wrong with you, though? Has anything passed between +you, eh?' + +'Brother!' said Pavel Petrovitch solemnly. + +Nikolai Petrovitch started. He felt dismayed, he could not have said +why himself. + +'Brother,' repeated Pavel Petrovitch, 'give me your word that you will +carry out my one request.' + +'What request? Tell me.' + +'It is very important; the whole happiness of your life, to my idea, +depends on it. I have been thinking a great deal all this time over +what I want to say to you now.... Brother, do your duty, the duty of an +honest and generous man; put an end to the scandal and bad example you +are setting--you, the best of men!' + +'What do you mean, Pavel?' + +'Marry Fenitchka.... She loves you; she is the mother of your son.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch stepped back a pace, and flung up his hands. 'Do you +say that, Pavel? you whom I have always regarded as the most determined +opponent of such marriages! You say that? Don't you know that it has +simply been out of respect for you that I have not done what you so +rightly call my duty?' + +'You were wrong to respect me in that case,' Pavel Petrovitch +responded, with a weary smile. 'I begin to think Bazarov was right in +accusing me of snobbishness. No dear brother, don't let us worry +ourselves about appearances and the world's opinion any more; we are +old folks and humble now; it's time we laid aside vanity of all kinds. +Let us, just as you say, do our duty; and mind, we shall get happiness +that way into the bargain.' + +Nikolai Petrovitch rushed to embrace his brother. + +'You have opened my eyes completely!' he cried. 'I was right in always +declaring you the wisest and kindest-hearted fellow in the world, and +now I see you are just as reasonable as you are noble-hearted.' + +'Quietly, quietly,' Pavel Petrovitch interrupted him; 'don't hurt the +leg of your reasonable brother, who at close upon fifty has been +fighting a duel like an ensign. So, then, it's a settled matter; +Fenitchka is to be my ... _belle soeur_.' + +'My dearest Pavel! But what will Arkady say?' + +'Arkady? he'll be in ecstasies, you may depend upon it! Marriage is +against his principles, but then the sentiment of equality in him will +be gratified. And, after all, what sense have class distinctions _au +dix-neuvieme siecle_?' + +'Ah, Pavel, Pavel! let me kiss you once more! Don't be afraid, I'll be +careful.' + +The brothers embraced each other. + +'What do you think, should you not inform her of your intention now?' +queried Pavel Petrovitch. + +'Why be in a hurry?' responded Nikolai Petrovitch. 'Has there been any +conversation between you?' + +'Conversation between us? _Quelle idee!_' + +'Well, that is all right then. First of all, you must get well, and +meanwhile there's plenty of time. We must think it over well, and +consider ...' + +'But your mind is made up, I suppose?' + +'Of course, my mind is made up, and I thank you from the bottom of my +heart. I will leave you now; you must rest; any excitement is bad for +you.... But we will talk it over again. Sleep well, dear heart, and God +bless you!' + +'What is he thanking me like that for?' thought Pavel Petrovitch, when +he was left alone. 'As though it did not depend on him! I will go away +directly he is married, somewhere a long way off--to Dresden or +Florence, and will live there till I----' + +Pavel Petrovitch moistened his forehead with eau de cologne, and closed +his eyes. His beautiful, emaciated head, the glaring daylight shining +full upon it, lay on the white pillow like the head of a dead man.... +And indeed he was a dead man. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +At Nikolskoe Katya and Arkady were sitting in the garden on a turf seat +in the shade of a tall ash tree; Fifi had placed himself on the ground +near them, giving his slender body that graceful curve, which is known +among dog-fanciers as 'the hare bend.' Both Arkady and Katya were +silent; he was holding a half-open book in his hands, while she was +picking out of a basket the few crumbs of bread left in it, and +throwing them to a small family of sparrows, who with the frightened +impudence peculiar to them were hopping and chirping at her very feet. +A faint breeze stirring in the ash leaves kept slowly moving pale-gold +flecks of sunlight up and down over the path and Fifi's tawny back; a +patch of unbroken shade fell upon Arkady and Katya; only from time to +time a bright streak gleamed on her hair. Both were silent, but the +very way in which they were silent, in which they were sitting +together, was expressive of confidential intimacy; each of them seemed +not even to be thinking of his companion, while secretly rejoicing in +his presence. Their faces, too, had changed since we saw them last; +Arkady looked more tranquil, Katya brighter and more daring. + +'Don't you think,' began Arkady, 'that the ash has been very well named +in Russian _yasen_; no other tree is so lightly and brightly +transparent (_yasno_) against the air as it is.' + +Katya raised her eyes to look upward, and assented, 'Yes'; while Arkady +thought, 'Well, she does not reproach me for _talking finely_.' + +'I don't like Heine,' said Katya, glancing towards the book which +Arkady was holding in his hands, 'either when he laughs or when he +weeps; I like him when he's thoughtful and melancholy.' + +'And I like him when he laughs,' remarked Arkady. + +'That's the relics left in you of your old satirical tendencies.' +('Relics!' thought Arkady--'if Bazarov had heard that?') 'Wait a +little; we shall transform you.' + +'Who will transform me? You?' + +'Who?--my sister; Porfiry Platonovitch, whom you've given up +quarrelling with; auntie, whom you escorted to church the day before +yesterday.' + +'Well, I couldn't refuse! And as for Anna Sergyevna, she agreed with +Yevgeny in a great many things, you remember?' + +'My sister was under his influence then, just as you were.' + +'As I was? Do you discover, may I ask, that I've shaken off his +influence now?' + +Katya did not speak. + +'I know,' pursued Arkady, 'you never liked him.' + +'I can have no opinion about him.' + +'Do you know, Katerina Sergyevna, every time I hear that answer I +disbelieve it.... There is no man that every one of us could not have +an opinion about! That's simply a way of getting out of it.' + +'Well, I'll say, then, I don't.... It's not exactly that I don't like +him, but I feel that he's of a different order from me, and I am +different from him ... and you too are different from him.' + +'How's that?' + +'How can I tell you.... He's a wild animal, and you and I are tame.' + +'Am I tame too?' + +Katya nodded. + +Arkady scratched his ear. 'Let me tell you, Katerina Sergyevna, do you +know, that's really an insult?' + +'Why, would you like to be a wild----' + +'Not wild, but strong, full of force.' + +'It's no good wishing for that.... Your friend, you see, doesn't wish +for it, but he has it.' + +'Hm! So you imagine he had a great influence on Anna Sergyevna?' + +'Yes. But no one can keep the upper hand of her for long,' added Katya +in a low voice. + +'Why do you think that?' + +'She's very proud.... I didn't mean that ... she values her +independence a great deal.' + +'Who doesn't value it?' asked Arkady, and the thought flashed through +his mind, 'What good is it?' 'What good is it?' it occurred to Katya to +wonder too. When young people are often together on friendly terms, +they are constantly stumbling on the same ideas. + +Arkady smiled, and, coming slightly closer to Katya, he said in a +whisper, 'Confess that you are a little afraid of her.' + +'Of whom?' + +'Her,' repeated Arkady significantly. + +'And how about you?' Katya asked in her turn. + +'I am too, observe I said, I am _too_.' + +Katya threatened him with her finger. 'I wonder at that,' she began; +'my sister has never felt so friendly to you as just now; much more so +than when you first came.' + +'Really!' + +'Why, haven't you noticed it? Aren't you glad of it?' + +Arkady grew thoughtful. + +'How have I succeeded in gaining Anna Sergyevna's good opinion? Wasn't +it because I brought her your mother's letters?' + +'Both that and other causes, which I shan't tell you.' + +'Why?' + +'I shan't say.' + +'Oh! I know; you're very obstinate.' + +'Yes, I am.' + +'And observant.' + +Katya gave Arkady a sidelong look. 'Perhaps so; does that irritate you? +What are you thinking of?' + +'I am wondering how you have come to be as observant as in fact you +are. You are so shy so reserved; you keep every one at a distance.' + +'I have lived a great deal alone; that drives one to reflection. But do +I really keep every one at a distance?' + +Arkady flung a grateful glance at Katya. + +'That's all very well,' he pursued; 'but people in your position--I +mean in your circumstances--don't often have that faculty; it is hard +for them, as it is for sovereigns, to get at the truth.' + +'But, you see, I am not rich.' + +Arkady was taken aback, and did not at once understand Katya. 'Why, of +course, the property's all her sister's!' struck him suddenly; the +thought was not unpleasing to him. 'How nicely you said that!' he +commented. + +'What?' + +'You said it nicely, simply, without being ashamed or making a boast of +it. By the way, I imagine there must always be something special, a +kind of pride of a sort in the feeling of any man, who knows and says +he is poor.' + +'I have never experienced anything of that sort, thanks to my sister. I +only referred to my position just now because it happened to come up.' + +'Well; but you must own you have a share of that pride I spoke of just +now.' + +'For instance?' + +'For instance, you--forgive the question--you wouldn't marry a rich +man, I fancy, would you?' + +'If I loved him very much.... No, I think even then I wouldn't marry +him.' + +'There! you see!' cried Arkady, and after a short pause he added, 'And +why wouldn't you marry him?' + +'Because even in the ballads unequal matches are always unlucky.' + +'You want to rule, perhaps, or ...' + +'Oh, no! why should I? On the contrary, I am ready to obey; only +inequality is intolerable. To respect one's self and obey, that I can +understand, that's happiness; but a subordinate existence ... No, I've +had enough of that as it is.' + +'Enough of that as it is,' Arkady repeated after Katya. 'Yes, yes,' he +went on, 'you're not Anna Sergyevna's sister for nothing; you're just +as independent as she is; but you're more reserved. I'm certain you +wouldn't be the first to give expression to your feeling, however +strong and holy it might be ...' + +'Well, what would you expect?' asked Katya. + +'You're equally clever; and you've as much, if not more, character than +she.' + +'Don't compare me with my sister, please,' interposed Katya hurriedly; +'that's too much to my disadvantage. You seem to forget my sister's +beautiful and clever, and ... you in particular, Arkady Nikolaevitch, +ought not to say such things, and with such a serious face too.' + +'What do you mean by "you in particular"--and what makes you suppose I +am joking?' + +'Of course, you are joking.' + +'You think so? But what if I'm persuaded of what I say? If I believe I +have not put it strongly enough even?' + +'I don't understand you.' + +'Really? Well, now I see; I certainly took you to be more observant +than you are.' + +'How?' + +Arkady made no answer, and turned away, while Katya looked for a few +more crumbs in the basket, and began throwing them to the sparrows; but +she moved her arm too vigorously, and they flew away, without stopping +to pick them up. + +'Katerina Sergyevna!' began Arkady suddenly; 'it's of no consequence to +you, probably; but, let me tell you, I put you not only above your +sister, but above every one in the world.' + +He got up and went quickly away, as though he were frightened at the +words that had fallen from his lips. + +Katya let her two hands drop together with the basket on to her lap, +and with bent head she stared a long while after Arkady. Gradually a +crimson flush came faintly out upon her cheeks; but her lips did not +smile and her dark eyes had a look of perplexity and some other, as yet +undefined, feeling. + +'Are you alone?' she heard the voice of Anna Sergyevna near her; 'I +thought you came into the garden with Arkady.' + +Katya slowly raised her eyes to her sister (elegantly, even elaborately +dressed, she was standing in the path and tickling Fifi's ears with the +tip of her open parasol), and slowly replied, 'Yes, I'm alone.' + +'So I see,' she answered with a smile; 'I suppose he has gone to his +room.' + +'Yes.' + +'Have you been reading together?' + +'Yes.' + +Anna Sergyevna took Katya by the chin and lifted her face up. + +'You have not been quarrelling, I hope?' + +'No,' said Katya, and she quietly removed her sister's hand. + +'How solemnly you answer! I expected to find him here, and meant to +suggest his coming a walk with me. That's what he is always asking for. +They have sent you some shoes from the town; go and try them on; I +noticed only yesterday your old ones are quite shabby. You never think +enough about it, and you have such charming little feet! Your hands are +nice too ... though they're large; so you must make the most of your +little feet. But you're not vain.' + +Anna Sergyevna went farther along the path with a light rustle of her +beautiful gown; Katya got up from the grass, and, taking Heine with +her, went away too--but not to try on her shoes. + +'Charming little feet!' she thought, as she slowly and lightly mounted +the stone steps of the terrace, which were burning with the heat of the +sun; 'charming little feet you call them.... Well, he shall be at +them.' + +But all at once a feeling of shame came upon her, and she ran swiftly +upstairs. + +Arkady had gone along the corridor to his room; a steward had overtaken +him, and announced that Mr. Bazarov was in his room. + +'Yevgeny!' murmured Arkady, almost with dismay; 'has he been here +long?' + +'Mr. Bazarov arrived this minute, sir, and gave orders not to announce +him to Anna Sergyevna, but to show him straight up to you.' + +'Can any misfortune have happened at home?' thought Arkady, and running +hurriedly up the stairs, he at once opened the door. The sight of +Bazarov at once reassured him, though a more experienced eye might very +probably have discerned signs of inward agitation in the sunken, though +still energetic face of the unexpected visitor. With a dusty cloak over +his shoulders, with a cap on his head, he was sitting at the window; he +did not even get up when Arkady flung himself with noisy exclamations +on his neck. + +'This is unexpected! What good luck brought you?' he kept repeating, +bustling about the room like one who both imagines himself and wishes +to show himself delighted. 'I suppose everything's all right at home; +every one's well, eh?' + +'Everything's all right, but not every one's well,' said Bazarov. +'Don't be a chatterbox, but send for some kvass for me, sit down, and +listen while I tell you all about it in a few, but, I hope, pretty +vigorous sentences.' + +Arkady was quiet while Bazarov described his duel with Pavel +Petrovitch. Arkady was very much surprised, and even grieved, but he +did not think it necessary to show this; he only asked whether his +uncle's wound was really not serious; and on receiving the reply that +it was most interesting, but not from a medical point of view, he gave +a forced smile, but at heart he felt both wounded and as it were +ashamed. Bazarov seemed to understand him. + +'Yes, my dear fellow,' he commented, 'you see what comes of living with +feudal personages. You turn a feudal personage yourself, and find +yourself taking part in knightly tournaments. Well, so I set off for my +father's,' Bazarov wound up, 'and I've turned in here on the way ... to +tell you all this, I should say, if I didn't think a useless lie a +piece of foolery. No, I turned in here--the devil only knows why. You +see, it's sometimes a good thing for a man to take himself by the +scruff of the neck and pull himself up, like a radish out of its bed; +that's what I've been doing of late.... But I wanted to have one more +look at what I'm giving up, at the bed where I've been planted.' + +'I hope those words don't refer to me,' responded Arkady with some +emotion; 'I hope you don't think of giving me up?' + +Bazarov turned an intent, almost piercing look upon him. + +'Would that be such a grief to you? It strikes me _you_ have given me +up already, you look so fresh and smart.... Your affair with Anna +Sergyevna must be getting on successfully.' + +'What do you mean by my affair with Anna Sergyevna?' + +'Why, didn't you come here from the town on her account, chicken? By +the way, how are those Sunday schools getting on? Do you mean to tell +me you're not in love with her? Or have you already reached the stage +of discretion?' + +'Yevgeny, you know I have always been open with you; I can assure you, +I will swear to you, you're making a mistake.' + +'Hm! That's another story,' remarked Bazarov in an undertone. 'But you +needn't be in a taking, it's a matter of absolute indifference to me. A +sentimentalist would say, "I feel that our paths are beginning to +part," but I will simply say that we're tired of each other.' + +'Yevgeny ...' + +'My dear soul, there's no great harm in that. One gets tired of much +more than that in this life. And now I suppose we'd better say +good-bye, hadn't we? Ever since I've been here I've had such a +loathsome feeling, just as if I'd been reading Gogol's effusions to the +governor of Kalouga's wife. By the way, I didn't tell them to take the +horses out.' + +'Upon my word, this is too much!' + +'Why?' + +'I'll say nothing of myself; but that would be discourteous to the last +degree to Anna Sergyevna, who will certainly wish to see you.' + +'Oh, you're mistaken there.' + +'On the contrary, I am certain I'm right,' retorted Arkady. 'And what +are you pretending for? If it comes to that, haven't you come here on +her account yourself?' + +'That may be so, but you're mistaken any way.' + +But Arkady was right. Anna Sergyevna desired to see Bazarov, and sent a +summons to him by a steward. Bazarov changed his clothes before going +to her; it turned out that he had packed his new suit so as to be able +to get it out easily. + +Madame Odintsov received him not in the room where he had so +unexpectedly declared his love to her, but in the drawing-room. She +held her finger tips out to him cordially, but her face betrayed an +involuntary sense of tension. + +'Anna Sergyevna,' Bazarov hastened to say, 'before everything else I +must set your mind at rest. Before you is a poor mortal, who has come +to his senses long ago, and hopes other people too have forgotten his +follies. I am going away for a long while; and though, as you will +allow, I'm by no means a very soft creature, it would be anything but +cheerful for me to carry away with me the idea that you remember me +with repugnance.' + +Anna Sergyevna gave a deep sigh like one who has just climbed up a high +mountain, and her face was lighted up by a smile. She held out her hand +a second time to Bazarov, and responded to his pressure. + +'Let bygones be bygones,' she said. 'I am all the readier to do so +because, speaking from my conscience, I was to blame then too for +flirting or something. In a word, let us be friends as before. That was +a dream, wasn't it? And who remembers dreams?' + +'Who remembers them? And besides, love ... you know, is a purely +imaginary feeling.' + +'Really? I am very glad to hear that.' + +So Anna Sergyevna spoke, and so spoke Bazarov; they both supposed they +were speaking the truth. Was the truth, the whole truth, to be found in +their words? They could not themselves have said, and much less could +the author. But a conversation followed between them precisely as +though they completely believed one another. + +Anna Sergyevna asked Bazarov, among other things, what he had been +doing at the Kirsanovs'. He was on the point of telling her about his +duel with Pavel Petrovitch, but he checked himself with the thought +that she might imagine he was trying to make himself interesting, and +answered that he had been at work all the time. + +'And I,' observed Anna Sergyevna, 'had a fit of depression at first, +goodness knows why; I even made plans for going abroad, fancy!... Then +it passed off, your friend Arkady Nikolaitch came, and I fell back into +my old routine, and took up my real part again.' + +'What part is that, may I ask?' + +'The character of aunt, guardian, mother--call it what you like. By the +way, do you know I used not quite to understand your close friendship +with Arkady Nikolaitch; I thought him rather insignificant. But now I +have come to know him better, and to see that he is clever.... And he's +young, he's young ... that's the great thing ... not like you and me, +Yevgeny Vassilyitch.' + +'Is he still as shy in your company?' queried Bazarov. + +'Why, was he?' ... Anna Sergyevna began, and after a brief pause she +went on: 'He has grown more confiding now; he talks to me. He used to +avoid me before. Though, indeed, I didn't seek his society either. He's +more friends with Katya.' + +Bazarov felt irritated. 'A woman can't help humbugging, of course!' he +thought. 'You say he used to avoid you,' he said aloud, with a chilly +smile; 'but it is probably no secret to you that he was in love with +you?' + +'What! he too?' fell from Anna Sergyevna's lips. + +'He too,' repeated Bazarov, with a submissive bow. 'Can it be you +didn't know it, and I've told you something new?' + +Anna Sergyevna dropped her eyes. 'You are mistaken, Yevgeny +Vassilyitch.' + +'I don't think so. But perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it.' 'And +don't you try telling me lies again for the future,' he added to +himself. + +'Why not? But I imagine that in this too you are attributing too much +importance to a passing impression. I begin to suspect you are inclined +to exaggeration.' + +'We had better not talk about it, Anna Sergyevna.' + +'Oh, why?' she retorted; but she herself led the conversation into +another channel. She was still ill at ease with Bazarov, though she had +told him, and assured herself that everything was forgotten. While she +was exchanging the simplest sentences with him, even while she was +jesting with him, she was conscious of a faint spasm of dread. So +people on a steamer at sea talk and laugh carelessly, for all the world +as though they were on dry land; but let only the slightest hitch +occur, let the least sign be seen of anything out of the common, and at +once on every face there comes out an expression of peculiar alarm, +betraying the constant consciousness of constant danger. + +Anna Sergyevna's conversation with Bazarov did not last long. She began +to seem absorbed in thought, answered abstractedly, and suggested at +last that they should go into the hall, where they found the princess +and Katya. 'But where is Arkady Nikolaitch?' inquired the lady of the +house; and on hearing that he had not shown himself for more than an +hour, she sent for him. He was not very quickly found; he had hidden +himself in the very thickest part of the garden, and with his chin +propped on his folded hands, he was sitting lost in meditation. They +were deep and serious meditations, but not mournful. He knew Anna +Sergyevna was sitting alone with Bazarov, and he felt no jealousy, as +once he had; on the contrary, his face slowly brightened; he seemed to +be at once wondering and rejoicing, and resolving on something. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +The deceased Odintsov had not liked innovations, but he had tolerated +'the fine arts within a certain sphere,' and had in consequence put up +in his garden, between the hothouse and the lake, an erection after the +fashion of a Greek temple, made of Russian brick. Along the dark wall +at the back of this temple or gallery were placed six niches for +statues, which Odintsov had proceeded to order from abroad. These +statues were to represent Solitude, Silence, Meditation, Melancholy, +Modesty, and Sensibility. One of them, the goddess of Silence, with her +finger on her lip, had been sent and put up; but on the very same day +some boys on the farm had broken her nose; and though a plasterer of +the neighbourhood undertook to make her a new nose 'twice as good as +the old one,' Odintsov ordered her to be taken away, and she was still +to be seen in the corner of the threshing barn, where she had stood +many long years, a source of superstitious terror to the peasant women. +The front part of the temple had long ago been overgrown with thick +bushes; only the pediments of the columns could be seen above the dense +green. In the temple itself it was cool even at mid-day. Anna Sergyevna +had not liked visiting this place ever since she had seen a snake +there; but Katya often came and sat on the wide stone seat under one of +the niches. Here, in the midst of the shade and coolness, she used to +read and work, or to give herself up to that sensation of perfect +peace, known, doubtless, to each of us, the charm of which consists in +the half-unconscious, silent listening to the vast current of life that +flows for ever both around us and within us. + +The day after Bazarov's arrival Katya was sitting on her favourite +stone seat, and beside her again was sitting Arkady. He had besought +her to come with him to the 'temple.' + +There was about an hour still to lunch-time; the dewy morning had +already given place to a sultry day. Arkady's face retained the +expression of the preceding day; Katya had a preoccupied look. Her +sister had, directly after their morning tea, called her into her room, +and after some preliminary caresses, which always scared Katya a +little, she had advised her to be more guarded in her behaviour with +Arkady, and especially to avoid solitary talks with him, as likely to +attract the notice of her aunt and all the household. Besides this, +even the previous evening Anna Sergyevna had not been herself; and +Katya herself had felt ill at ease, as though she were conscious of +some fault in herself. As she yielded to Arkady's entreaties, she said +to herself that it was for the last time. + +'Katerina Sergyevna,' he began with a sort of bashful easiness, 'since +I've had the happiness of living in the same house with you, I have +discussed a great many things with you; but meanwhile there is one, +very important ... for me ... one question, which I have not touched +upon up till now. You remarked yesterday that I have been changed +here,' he went on, at once catching and avoiding the questioning glance +Katya was turning upon him. 'I have changed certainly a great deal, and +you know that better than any one else--you to whom I really owe this +change.' + +'I?... Me?...' said Katya. + +'I am not now the conceited boy I was when I came here,' Arkady went +on. 'I've not reached twenty-three for nothing; as before, I want to be +useful, I want to devote all my powers to the truth; but I no longer +look for my ideals where I did; they present themselves to me ... much +closer to hand. Up till now I did not understand myself; I set myself +tasks which were beyond my powers.... My eyes have been opened lately, +thanks to one feeling.... I'm not expressing myself quite clearly, but +I hope you understand me.' + +Katya made no reply, but she ceased looking at Arkady. + +'I suppose,' he began again, this time in a more agitated voice, while +above his head a chaffinch sang its song unheeding among the leaves of +the birch--'I suppose it's the duty of every one to be open with those +... with those people who ... in fact, with those who are near to him, +and so I ... I resolved ...' + +But here Arkady's eloquence deserted him; he lost the thread, +stammered, and was forced to be silent for a moment. Katya still did +not raise her eyes. She seemed not to understand what he was leading up +to in all this, and to be waiting for something. + +'I foresee I shall surprise you,' began Arkady, pulling himself +together again with an effort, 'especially since this feeling relates +in a way ... in a way, notice ... to you. You reproached me, if you +remember, yesterday with a want of seriousness,' Arkady went on, with +the air of a man who has got into a bog, feels that he is sinking +further and further in at every step, and yet hurries onwards in the +hope of crossing it as soon as possible; 'that reproach is often aimed +... often falls ... on young men even when they cease to deserve it; +and if I had more self-confidence ...' ('Come, help me, do help me!' +Arkady was thinking, in desperation; but, as before, Katya did not turn +her head.) 'If I could hope ...' + +'If I could feel sure of what you say,' was heard at that instant the +clear voice of Anna Sergyevna. + +Arkady was still at once, while Katya turned pale. Close by the bushes +that screened the temple ran a little path. Anna Sergyevna was walking +along it escorted by Bazarov. Katya and Arkady could not see them, but +they heard every word, the rustle of their clothes, their very +breathing. They walked on a few steps, and, as though on purpose, stood +still just opposite the temple. + +'You see,' pursued Anna Sergyevna, 'you and I made a mistake; we are +both past our first youth, I especially so; we have seen life, we are +tired; we are both--why affect not to know it?--clever; at first we +interested each other, curiosity was aroused ... and then ...' + +'And then I grew stale,' put in Bazarov. + +'You know that was not the cause of our misunderstanding. But, however, +it was to be, we had no need of one another, that's the chief point; +there was too much ... what shall I say? ... that was alike in us. We +did not realise it all at once. Now, Arkady ...' + +'So you need him?' queried Bazarov. + +'Hush, Yevgeny Vassilyitch. You tell me he is not indifferent to me, +and it always seemed to me he liked me. I know that I might well be his +aunt, but I don't wish to conceal from you that I have come to think +more often of him. In such youthful, fresh feeling there is a special +charm ...' + +'The word _fascination_ is most usual in such cases,' Bazarov +interrupted; the effervescence of his spleen could be heard in his +choked though steady voice. 'Arkady was mysterious over something with +me yesterday, and didn't talk either of you or your sister.... That's a +serious symptom.' + +'He is just like a brother with Katya,' commented Anna Sergyevna, 'and +I like that in him, though, perhaps, I ought not to have allowed such +intimacy between them.' + +'That idea is prompted by ... your feelings as a sister?' Bazarov +brought out, drawling. + +'Of course ... but why are we standing still? Let us go on. What a +strange talk we are having, aren't we? I could never have believed I +should talk to you like this. You know, I am afraid of you ... and at +the same time I trust you, because in reality you are so good.' + +'In the first place, I am not in the least good; and in the second +place, I have lost all significance for you, and you tell me I am +good.... It's like a laying a wreath of flowers on the head of a +corpse.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, we are not responsible ...' Anna Sergyevna began; +but a gust of wind blew across, set the leaves rustling, and carried +away her words. 'Of course, you are free ...' Bazarov declared after a +brief pause. Nothing more could be distinguished; the steps retreated +... everything was still. + +Arkady turned to Katya. She was sitting in the same position, but her +head was bent still lower. 'Katerina Sergyevna,' he said with a shaking +voice, and clasping his hands tightly together, 'I love you for ever +and irrevocably, and I love no one but you. I wanted to tell you this, +to find out your opinion of me, and to ask for your hand, since I am +not rich, and I feel ready for any sacrifice.... You don't answer me? +You don't believe me? Do you think I speak lightly? But remember these +last days! Surely for a long time past you must have known that +everything--understand me--everything else has vanished long ago and +left no trace? Look at me, say one word to me ... I love ... I love you +... believe me!' + +Katya glanced at Arkady with a bright and serious look, and after long +hesitation, with the faintest smile, she said, 'Yes.' + +Arkady leapt up from the stone seat. 'Yes! You said Yes, Katerina +Sergyevna! What does that word mean? Only that I do love you, that you +believe me ... or ... or ... I daren't go on ...' + +'Yes,' repeated Katya, and this time he understood her. He snatched her +large beautiful hands, and, breathless with rapture, pressed them to +his heart. He could scarcely stand on his feet, and could only repeat, +'Katya, Katya ...' while she began weeping in a guileless way, smiling +gently at her own tears. No one who has not seen those tears in the +eyes of the beloved, knows yet to what a point, faint with shame and +gratitude, a man may be happy on earth. + +The next day, early in the morning, Anna Sergyevna sent to summon +Bazarov to her boudoir, and with a forced laugh handed him a folded +sheet of notepaper. It was a letter from Arkady; in it he asked for her +sister's hand. + +Bazarov quickly scanned the letter, and made an effort to control +himself, that he might not show the malignant feeling which was +instantaneously aflame in his breast. + +'So that's how it is,' he commented; 'and you, I fancy, only yesterday +imagined he loved Katerina Sergyevna as a brother. What are you +intending to do now?' + +'What do you advise me?' asked Anna Sergyevna, still laughing. + +'Well, I suppose,' answered Bazarov, also with a laugh, though he felt +anything but cheerful, and had no more inclination to laugh than she +had; 'I suppose you ought to give the young people your blessing. It's +a good match in every respect; Kirsanov's position is passable, he's +the only son, and his father's a good-natured fellow, he won't try to +thwart him.' + +Madame Odintsov walked up and down the room. By turns her face flushed +and grew pale. 'You think so,' she said. 'Well, I see no obstacles ... +I am glad for Katya ... and for Arkady Nikolaevitch too. Of course, I +will wait for his father's answer. I will send him in person to him. +But it turns out, you see, that I was right yesterday when I told you +we were both old people.... How was it I saw nothing? That's what +amazes me!' Anna Sergyevna laughed again, and quickly turned her head +away. + +'The younger generation have grown awfully sly,' remarked Bazarov, and +he too laughed. 'Good-bye,' he began again after a short silence. 'I +hope you will bring the matter to the most satisfactory conclusion; and +I will rejoice from a distance.' + +Madame Odintsov turned quickly to him. 'You are not going away? Why +should you not stay _now_? Stay ... it's exciting talking to you ... +one seems walking on the edge of a precipice. At first one feels timid, +but one gains courage as one goes on. Do stay.' + +'Thanks for the suggestion, Anna Sergyevna, and for your flattering +opinion of my conversational talents. But I think I have already been +moving too long in a sphere which is not my own. Flying fishes can hold +out for a time in the air; but soon they must splash back into the +water; allow me, too, to paddle in my own element.' + +Madame Odintsov looked at Bazarov. His pale face was twitching with a +bitter smile. 'This man did love me!' she thought, and she felt pity +for him, and held out her hand to him with sympathy. + +But he too understood her. 'No!' he said, stepping back a pace. 'I'm a +poor man, but I've never taken charity so far. Good-bye, and good luck +to you.' + +'I am certain we are not seeing each other for the last time,' Anna +Sergyevna declared with an unconscious gesture. + +'Anything may happen!' answered Bazarov, and he bowed and went away. + +'So you are thinking of making yourself a nest?' he said the same day +to Arkady, as he packed his box, crouching on the floor. 'Well, it's a +capital thing. But you needn't have been such a humbug. I expected +something from you in quite another quarter. Perhaps, though, it took +you by surprise yourself?' + +'I certainly didn't expect this when I parted from you,' answered +Arkady; 'but why are you a humbug yourself, calling it "a capital +thing," as though I didn't know your opinion of marriage.' + +'Ah, my dear fellow,' said Bazarov, 'how you talk! You see what I'm +doing; there seems to be an empty space in the box, and I am putting +hay in; that's how it is in the box of our life; we would stuff it up +with anything rather than have a void. Don't be offended, please; you +remember, no doubt, the opinion I have always had of Katerina +Sergyevna. Many a young lady's called clever simply because she can +sigh cleverly; but yours can hold her own, and, indeed, she'll hold it +so well that she'll have you under her thumb--to be sure, though, +that's quite as it ought to be.' He slammed the lid to, and got up from +the floor. 'And now, I say again, good-bye, for it's useless to deceive +ourselves--we are parting for good, and you know that yourself ... you +have acted sensibly; you're not made for our bitter, rough, lonely +existence. There's no dash, no hate in you, but you've the daring of +youth and the fire of youth. Your sort, you gentry, can never get +beyond refined submission or refined indignation, and that's no good. +You won't fight--and yet you fancy yourselves gallant chaps--but we +mean to fight. Oh well! Our dust would get into your eyes, our mud +would bespatter you, but yet you're not up to our level, you're +admiring yourselves unconsciously, you like to abuse yourselves; but +we're sick of that--we want something else! we want to smash other +people! You're a capital fellow; but you're a sugary, liberal snob for +all that--_ay volla-too_, as my parent is fond of saying.' + +'You are parting from me for ever, Yevgeny,' responded Arkady +mournfully; 'and have you nothing else to say to me?' + +Bazarov scratched the back of his head. 'Yes, Arkady, yes, I have other +things to say to you, but I'm not going to say them, because that's +sentimentalism--that means, mawkishness. And you get married as soon as +you can; and build your nest, and get children to your heart's content. +They'll have the wit to be born in a better time than you and me. Aha! +I see the horses are ready. Time's up! I've said good-bye to every +one.... What now? embracing, eh?' + +Arkady flung himself on the neck of his former leader and friend, and +the tears fairly gushed from his eyes. + +'That's what comes of being young!' Bazarov commented calmly. 'But I +rest my hopes on Katerina Sergyevna. You'll see how quickly she'll +console you! Good-bye, brother!' he said to Arkady when he had got into +the light cart, and, pointing to a pair of jackdaws sitting side by +side on the stable roof, he added, 'That's for you! follow that +example.' + +'What does that mean?' asked Arkady. + +'What? Are you so weak in natural history, or have you forgotten that +the jackdaw is a most respectable family bird? An example to you!... +Good-bye!' + +The cart creaked and rolled away. + +Bazarov had spoken truly. In talking that evening with Katya, Arkady +completely forgot about his former teacher. He already began to follow +her lead, and Katya was conscious of this, and not surprised at it. He +was to set off the next day for Maryino, to see Nikolai Petrovitch. +Anna Sergyevna was not disposed to put any constraint on the young +people, and only on account of the proprieties did not leave them by +themselves for too long together. She magnanimously kept the princess +out of their way; the latter had been reduced to a state of tearful +frenzy by the news of the proposed marriage. At first Anna Sergyevna +was afraid the sight of their happiness might prove rather trying to +herself, but it turned out quite the other way; this sight not only did +not distress her, it interested her, it even softened her at last. Anna +Sergyevna felt both glad and sorry at this. 'It is clear that Bazarov +was right,' she thought; 'it has been curiosity, nothing but curiosity, +and love of ease, and egoism ...' + +'Children,' she said aloud, 'what do you say, is love a purely +imaginary feeling?' + +But neither Katya nor Arkady even understood her. They were shy with +her; the fragment of conversation they had involuntarily overheard +haunted their minds. But Anna Sergyevna soon set their minds at rest; +and it was not difficult for her--she had set her own mind at rest. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +Bazarov's old parents were all the more overjoyed by their son's +arrival, as it was quite unexpected. Arina Vlasyevna was greatly +excited, and kept running backwards and forwards in the house, so that +Vassily Ivanovitch compared her to a 'hen partridge'; the short tail of +her abbreviated jacket did, in fact, give her something of a birdlike +appearance. He himself merely growled and gnawed the amber mouthpiece +of his pipe, or, clutching his neck with his fingers, turned his head +round, as though he were trying whether it were properly screwed on, +then all at once he opened his wide mouth and went off into a perfectly +noiseless chuckle. + +'I've come to you for six whole weeks, governor,' Bazarov said to him. +'I want to work, so please don't hinder me now.' + +'You shall forget my face completely, if you call that hindering you!' +answered Vassily Ivanovitch. + +He kept his promise. After installing his son as before in his study, +he almost hid himself away from him, and he kept his wife from all +superfluous demonstrations of tenderness. 'On Enyusha's first visit, my +dear soul,' he said to her, 'we bothered him a little; we must be wiser +this time.' Arina Vlasyevna agreed with her husband, but that was small +compensation since she saw her son only at meals, and was now +absolutely afraid to address him. 'Enyushenka,' she would say +sometimes--and before he had time to look round, she was nervously +fingering the tassels of her reticule and faltering, 'Never mind, never +mind, I only----' and afterwards she would go to Vassily Ivanovitch +and, her cheek in her hand, would consult him: 'If you could only find +out, darling, which Enyusha would like for dinner to-day--cabbage-broth +or beetroot-soup?'--'But why didn't you ask him yourself?'--'Oh, he +will get sick of me!' Bazarov, however, soon ceased to shut himself up; +the fever of work fell away, and was replaced by dreary boredom or +vague restlessness. A strange weariness began to show itself in all his +movements; even his walk, firm, bold and strenuous, was changed. He +gave up walking in solitude, and began to seek society; he drank tea in +the drawing-room, strolled about the kitchen-garden with Vassily +Ivanovitch, and smoked with him in silence; once even asked after +Father Alexey. Vassily Ivanovitch at first rejoiced at this change, but +his joy was not long-lived. 'Enyusha's breaking my heart,' he +complained in secret to his wife; 'it's not that he's discontented or +angry--that would be nothing; he's sad, he's sorrowful--that's what's +so terrible. He's always silent. If he'd only abuse us; he's growing +thin, he's lost his colour.'--'Mercy on us, mercy on us!' whispered the +old woman; 'I would put an amulet on his neck, but, of course, he won't +allow it.' Vassily Ivanovitch several times attempted in the most +circumspect manner to question Bazarov about his work, about his +health, and about Arkady.... But Bazarov's replies were reluctant and +casual; and, once noticing that his father was trying gradually to lead +up to something in conversation, he said to him in a tone of vexation: +'Why do you always seem to be walking round me on tiptoe? That way's +worse than the old one.'--'There, there, I meant nothing!' poor Vassily +Ivanovitch answered hurriedly. So his diplomatic hints remained +fruitless. He hoped to awaken his son's sympathy one day by beginning +_a propos_ of the approaching emancipation of the peasantry, to talk +about progress; but the latter responded indifferently: 'Yesterday I +was walking under the fence, and I heard the peasant boys here, instead +of some old ballad, bawling a street song. That's what progress is.' + +Sometimes Bazarov went into the village, and in his usual bantering +tone entered into conversation with some peasant: 'Come,' he would say +to him, 'expound your views on life to me, brother; you see, they say +all the strength and future of Russia lies in your hands, a new epoch +in history will be started by you--you give us our real language and +our laws.' + +The peasant either made no reply, or articulated a few words of this +sort, 'Well, we'll try ... because, you see, to be sure....' + +'You explain to me what your _mir_ is,' Bazarov interrupted; 'and is it +the same _mir_ that is said to rest on three fishes?' + +'That, little father, is the earth that rests on three fishes,' the +peasant would declare soothingly, in a kind of patriarchal, +simple-hearted sing-song; 'and over against ours, that's to say, the +_mir_, we know there's the master's will; wherefore you are our +fathers. And the stricter the master's rule, the better for the +peasant.' + +After listening to such a reply one day, Bazarov shrugged his shoulders +contemptuously and turned away, while the peasant sauntered slowly +homewards. + +'What was he talking about?' inquired another peasant of middle age and +surly aspect, who at a distance from the door of his hut had been +following his conversation with Bazarov.--'Arrears? eh?' + +'Arrears, no indeed, mate!' answered the first peasant, and now there +was no trace of patriarchal singsong in his voice; on the contrary, +there was a certain scornful gruffness to be heard in it: 'Oh, he +clacked away about something or other; wanted to stretch his tongue a +bit. Of course, he's a gentleman; what does he understand?' + +'What should he understand!' answered the other peasant, and jerking +back their caps and pushing down their belts, they proceeded to +deliberate upon their work and their wants. Alas! Bazarov, shrugging +his shoulders contemptuously, Bazarov, who knew how to talk to peasants +(as he had boasted in his dispute with Pavel Petrovitch), did not in +his self-confidence even suspect that in their eyes he was all the +while something of the nature of a buffooning clown. + +He found employment for himself at last, however. One day Vassily +Ivanovitch bound up a peasant's wounded leg before him, but the old +man's hands trembled, and he could not manage the bandages; his son +helped him, and from time to time began to take a share in his +practice, though at the same time he was constantly sneering both at +the remedies he himself advised and at his father, who hastened to make +use of them. But Bazarov's jeers did not in the least perturb Vassily +Ivanovitch; they were positively a comfort to him. Holding his greasy +dressing-gown across his stomach with two fingers, and smoking his +pipe, he used to listen with enjoyment to Bazarov; and the more +malicious his sallies, the more good-humouredly did his delighted +father chuckle, showing every one of his black teeth. He used even to +repeat these sometimes flat or pointless retorts, and would, for +instance, for several days constantly without rhyme or reason, +reiterate, 'Not a matter of the first importance!' simply because his +son, on hearing he was going to matins, had made use of that +expression. 'Thank God! he has got over his melancholy!' he whispered +to his wife; 'how he gave it to me to-day, it was splendid!' Moreover, +the idea of having such an assistant excited him to ecstasy, filled him +with pride. 'Yes, yes,' he would say to some peasant woman in a man's +cloak, and a cap shaped like a horn, as he handed her a bottle of +Goulard's extract or a box of white ointment, 'you ought to be thanking +God, my good woman, every minute that my son is staying with me; you +will be treated now by the most scientific, most modern method. Do you +know what that means? The Emperor of the French, Napoleon, even, has no +better doctor.' And the peasant woman, who had come to complain that +she felt so sort of queer all over (the exact meaning of these words +she was not able, however, herself to explain), merely bowed low and +rummaged in her bosom, where four eggs lay tied up in the corner of a +towel. + +Bazarov once even pulled out a tooth for a passing pedlar of cloth; and +though this tooth was an average specimen, Vassily Ivanovitch preserved +it as a curiosity, and incessantly repeated, as he showed it to Father +Alexey, 'Just look, what a fang! The force Yevgeny has! The pedlar +seemed to leap into the air. If it had been an oak, he'd have rooted it +up!' + +'Most promising!' Father Alexey would comment at last, not knowing what +answer to make, and how to get rid of the ecstatic old man. + +One day a peasant from a neighbouring village brought his brother to +Vassily Ivanovitch, ill with typhus. The unhappy man, lying flat on a +truss of straw, was dying; his body was covered with dark patches, he +had long ago lost consciousness. Vassily Ivanovitch expressed his +regret that no one had taken steps to procure medical aid sooner, and +declared there was no hope. And, in fact, the peasant did not get his +brother home again; he died in the cart. + +Three days later Bazarov came into his father's room and asked him if +he had any caustic. + +'Yes; what do you want it for?' + +'I must have some ... to burn a cut.' + +'For whom?' + +'For myself.' + +'What, yourself? Why is that? What sort of a cut? Where is it?' + +'Look here, on my finger. I went to-day to the village, you know, where +they brought that peasant with typhus fever. They were just going to +open the body for some reason or other, and I've had no practice of +that sort for a long while.' + +'Well?' + +'Well, so I asked the district doctor about it; and so I dissected it.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch all at once turned quite white, and, without +uttering a word, rushed to his study, from which he returned at once +with a bit of caustic in his hand. Bazarov was about to take it and go +away. + +'For mercy's sake,' said Vassily Ivanovitch, 'let me do it myself.' + +Bazarov smiled. 'What a devoted practitioner!' + +'Don't laugh, please. Show me your finger. The cut is not a large one. +Do I hurt?' + +'Press harder; don't be afraid.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch stopped. 'What do you think, Yevgeny; wouldn't it be +better to burn it with hot iron?' + +'That ought to have been done sooner; the caustic even is useless, +really, now. If I've taken the infection, it's too late now.' + +'How ... too late ...' Vassily Ivanovitch could scarcely articulate the +words. + +'I should think so! It's more than four hours ago.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch burnt the cut a little more. 'But had the district +doctor no caustic?' + +'No.' + +'How was that, good Heavens? A doctor not have such an indispensable +thing as that!' + +'You should have seen his lancets,' observed Bazarov as he walked away. + +Up till late that evening, and all the following day, Vassily +Ivanovitch kept catching at every possible excuse to go into his son's +room; and though far from referring to the cut--he even tried to talk +about the most irrelevant subjects--he looked so persistently into his +face, and watched him in such trepidation, that Bazarov lost patience +and threatened to go away. Vassily Ivanovitch gave him a promise not to +bother him, the more readily as Arina Vlasyevna, from whom, of course, +he kept it all secret, was beginning to worry him as to why he did not +sleep, and what had come over him. For two whole days he held himself +in, though he did not at all like the look of his son, whom he kept +watching stealthily, ... but on the third day, at dinner, he could bear +it no longer. Bazarov sat with downcast looks, and had not touched a +single dish. + +'Why don't you eat, Yevgeny?' he inquired, putting on an expression of +the most perfect carelessness. 'The food, I think, is very nicely +cooked.' + +'I don't want anything, so I don't eat.' + +'Have you no appetite? And your head?' he added timidly; 'does it +ache?' + +'Yes. Of course, it aches.' + +Arina Vlasyevna sat up and was all alert. + +'Don't be angry, please, Yevgeny,' continued Vassily Ivanovitch; 'won't +you let me feel your pulse?' + +Bazarov got up. 'I can tell you without feeling my pulse; I'm +feverish.' + +'Has there been any shivering?' + +'Yes, there has been shivering too. I'll go and lie down, and you can +send me some lime-flower tea. I must have caught cold.' + +'To be sure, I heard you coughing last night,' observed Arina +Vlasyevna. + +'I've caught cold,' repeated Bazarov, and he went away. + +Arina Vlasyevna busied herself about the preparation of the decoction +of lime-flowers, while Vassily Ivanovitch went into the next room and +clutched at his hair in silent desperation. + +Bazarov did not get up again that day, and passed the whole night in +heavy, half-unconscious torpor. At one o'clock in the morning, opening +his eyes with an effort, he saw by the light of a lamp his father's +pale face bending over him, and told him to go away. The old man begged +his pardon, but he quickly came back on tiptoe, and half-hidden by the +cupboard door, he gazed persistently at his son. Arina Vlasyevna did +not go to bed either, and leaving the study door just open a very +little, she kept coming up to it to listen 'how Enyusha was breathing,' +and to look at Vassily Ivanovitch. She could see nothing but his +motionless bent back, but even that afforded her some faint +consolation. In the morning Bazarov tried to get up; he was seized with +giddiness, his nose began to bleed; he lay down again. Vassily +Ivanovitch waited on him in silence; Arina Vlasyevna went in to him and +asked him how he was feeling. He answered, 'Better,' and turned to the +wall. Vassily Ivanovitch gesticulated at his wife with both hands; she +bit her lips so as not to cry, and went away. The whole house seemed +suddenly darkened; every one looked gloomy; there was a strange hush; a +shrill cock was carried away from the yard to the village, unable to +comprehend why he should be treated so. Bazarov still lay, turned to +the wall. Vassily Ivanovitch tried to address him with various +questions, but they fatigued Bazarov, and the old man sank into his +armchair, motionless, only cracking his finger-joints now and then. He +went for a few minutes into the garden, stood there like a statue, as +though overwhelmed with unutterable bewilderment (the expression of +amazement never left his face all through), and went back again to his +son, trying to avoid his wife's questions. She caught him by the arm at +last and passionately, almost menacingly, said, 'What is wrong with +him?' Then he came to himself, and forced himself to smile at her in +reply; but to his own horror, instead of a smile, he found himself +taken somehow by a fit of laughter. He had sent at daybreak for a +doctor. He thought it necessary to inform his son of this, for fear he +should be angry. Bazarov suddenly turned over on the sofa, bent a fixed +dull look on his father, and asked for drink. + +Vassily Ivanovitch gave him some water, and as he did so felt his +forehead. It seemed on fire. + +'Governor,' began Bazarov, in a slow, drowsy voice; 'I'm in a bad way; +I've got the infection, and in a few days you'll have to bury me.' + +Vassily Ivanovitch staggered back, as though some one had aimed a blow +at his legs. + +'Yevgeny!' he faltered; 'what do you mean!... God have mercy on you! +You've caught cold!' + +'Hush!' Bazarov interposed deliberately. 'A doctor can't be allowed to +talk like that. There's every symptom of infection; you know yourself.' + +'Where are the symptoms ... of infection Yevgeny?... Good Heavens!' + +'What's this?' said Bazarov, and, pulling up his shirtsleeve, he showed +his father the ominous red patches coming out on his arm. + +Vassily Ivanovitch was shaking and chill with terror. + +'Supposing,' he said at last, 'even supposing ... if even there's +something like ... infection ...' + +'Pyaemia,' put in his son. + +'Well, well ... something of the epidemic ...' + +'Pyaemia,' Bazarov repeated sharply and distinctly; 'have you forgotten +your text-books?' + +'Well, well--as you like.... Anyway, we will cure you!' + +'Come, that's humbug. But that's not the point. I didn't expect to die +so soon; it's a most unpleasant incident, to tell the truth. You and +mother ought to make the most of your strong religious belief; now's +the time to put it to the test.' He drank off a little water. 'I want +to ask you about one thing ... while my head is still under my control. +To-morrow or next day my brain, you know, will send in its resignation. +I'm not quite certain even now whether I'm expressing myself clearly. +While I've been lying here, I've kept fancying red dogs were running +round me, while you were making them point at me, as if I were a +woodcock. Just as if I were drunk. Do you understand me all right?' + +'I assure you, Yevgeny, you are talking perfectly correctly.' + +'All the better. You told me you'd sent for the doctor. You did that to +comfort yourself ... comfort me too; send a messenger ...' + +'To Arkady Nikolaitch?' put in the old man. + +'Who's Arkady Nikolaitch?' said Bazarov, as though in doubt.... 'Oh, +yes! that chicken! No, let him alone; he's turned jackdaw now. Don't be +surprised; that's not delirium yet. You send a messenger to Madame +Odintsov, Anna Sergyevna; she's a lady with an estate.... Do you know?' +(Vassily Ivanovitch nodded.) 'Yevgeny Bazarov, say, sends his +greetings, and sends word he is dying. Will you do that?' + +'Yes, I will do it.... But is it a possible thing for you to die, +Yevgeny?... Think only! Where would divine justice be after that?' + +'I know nothing about that; only you send the messenger.' + +'I'll send this minute, and I'll write a letter myself.' + +'No, why? Say I sent greetings; nothing more is necessary. And now I'll +go back to my dogs. Strange! I want to fix my thoughts on death, and +nothing comes of it. I see a kind of blur ... and nothing more.' + +He turned painfully back to the wall again; while Vassily Ivanovitch +went out of the study, and struggling as far as his wife's bedroom, +simply dropped down on to his knees before the holy pictures. + +'Pray, Arina, pray for us!' he moaned; 'our son is dying.' + +The doctor, the same district doctor who had had no caustic, arrived, +and after looking at the patient, advised them to persevere with a +cooling treatment, and at that point said a few words of the chance of +recovery. + +'Have you ever chanced to see people in my state _not_ set off for +Elysium?' asked Bazarov, and suddenly snatching the leg of a heavy +table that stood near his sofa, he swung it round, and pushed it away. +'There's strength, there's strength,' he murmured; 'everything's here +still, and I must die!... An old man at least has time to be weaned +from life, but I ... Well, go and try to disprove death. Death will +disprove you, and that's all! Who's crying there?' he added, after a +short pause--'Mother? Poor thing! Whom will she feed now with her +exquisite beetroot-soup? You, Vassily Ivanovitch, whimpering too, I do +believe! Why, if Christianity's no help to you, be a philosopher, a +Stoic, or what not! Why, didn't you boast you were a philosopher?' + +'Me a philosopher!' wailed Vassily Ivanovitch, while the tears fairly +streamed down his cheeks. + +Bazarov got worse every hour; the progress of the disease was rapid, as +is usually the way in cases of surgical poisoning. He still had not +lost consciousness, and understood what was said to him; he was still +struggling. 'I don't want to lose my wits,' he muttered, clenching his +fists; 'what rot it all is!' And at once he would say, 'Come, take ten +from eight, what remains?' Vassily Ivanovitch wandered about like one +possessed, proposed first one remedy, then another, and ended by doing +nothing but cover up his son's feet. 'Try cold pack ... emetic ... +mustard plasters on the stomach ... bleeding,' he would murmur with an +effort. The doctor, whom he had entreated to remain, agreed with him, +ordered the patient lemonade to drink, and for himself asked for a pipe +and something 'warming and strengthening'--that's to say, brandy. Arina +Vlasyevna sat on a low stool near the door, and only went out from time +to time to pray. A few days before, a looking-glass had slipped out of +her hands and been broken, and this she had always considered an omen +of evil; even Anfisushka could say nothing to her. Timofeitch had gone +off to Madame Odintsov's. + +The night passed badly for Bazarov.... He was in the agonies of high +fever. Towards morning he was a little easier. He asked for Arina +Vlasyevna to comb his hair, kissed her hand, and swallowed two gulps of +tea. Vassily Ivanovitch revived a little. + +'Thank God!' he kept declaring; 'the crisis is coming, the crisis is at +hand!' + +'There, to think now!' murmured Bazarov; 'what a word can do! He's +found it; he's said "crisis," and is comforted. It's an astounding +thing how man believes in words. If he's told he's a fool, for +instance, though he's not thrashed, he'll be wretched; call him a +clever fellow, and he'll be delighted if you go off without paying +him.' + +This little speech of Bazarov's, recalling his old retorts, moved +Vassily Ivanovitch greatly. + +'Bravo! well said, very good!' he cried, making as though he were +clapping his hands. + +Bazarov smiled mournfully. + +'So what do you think,' he said; 'is the crisis over, or coming?' + +'You are better, that's what I see, that's what rejoices me,' answered +Vassily Ivanovitch. + +'Well, that's good; rejoicings never come amiss. And to her, do you +remember? did you send?' + +'To be sure I did.' + +The change for the better did not last long. The disease resumed its +onslaughts. Vassily Ivanovitch was sitting by Bazarov. It seemed as +though the old man were tormented by some special anguish. He was +several times on the point of speaking--and could not. + +'Yevgeny!' he brought out at last; 'my son, my one, dear son!' + +This unfamiliar mode of address produced an effect on Bazarov. He +turned his head a little, and, obviously trying to fight against the +load of oblivion weighing upon him, he articulated: 'What is it, +father?' + +'Yevgeny,' Vassily Ivanovitch went on, and he fell on his knees before +Bazarov, though the latter had closed his eyes and could not see him. +'Yevgeny, you are better now; please God, you will get well, but make +use of this time, comfort your mother and me, perform the duty of a +Christian! What it means for me to say this to you, it's awful; but +still more awful ... for ever and ever, Yevgeny ... think a little, +what ...' + +The old man's voice broke, and a strange look passed over his son's +face, though he still lay with closed eyes. + +'I won't refuse, if that can be any comfort to you,' he brought out at +last; 'but it seems to me there's no need to be in a hurry. You say +yourself I am better.' + +'Oh, yes, Yevgeny, better certainly; but who knows, it is all in God's +hands, and in doing the duty ...' + +'No, I will wait a bit,' broke in Bazarov. 'I agree with you that the +crisis has come. And if we're mistaken, well! they give the sacrament +to men who're unconscious, you know.' + +'Yevgeny, I beg.' + +'I'll wait a little. And now I want to go to sleep. Don't disturb me.' +And he laid his head back on the pillow. + +The old man rose from his knees, sat down in the armchair, and, +clutching his beard, began biting his own fingers ... + +The sound of a light carriage on springs, that sound which is +peculiarly impressive in the wilds of the country, suddenly struck upon +his hearing. Nearer and nearer rolled the light wheels; now even the +neighing of the horses could be heard.... Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up +and ran to the little window. There drove into the courtyard of his +little house a carriage with seats for two, with four horses harnessed +abreast. Without stopping to consider what it could mean, with a rush +of a sort of senseless joy, he ran out on to the steps.... A groom in +livery was opening the carriage doors; a lady in a black veil and a +black mantle was getting out of it ... + +'I am Madame Odintsov,' she said. 'Yevgeny Vassilvitch is still living? +You are his father? I have a doctor with me.' + +'Benefactress!' cried Vassily Ivanovitch, and snatching her hand, he +pressed it convulsively to his lips, while the doctor brought by Anna +Sergyevna, a little man in spectacles, of German physiognomy, stepped +very deliberately out of the carriage. 'Still living, my Yevgeny is +living, and now he will be saved! Wife! wife!... An angel from heaven +has come to us....' + +'What does it mean, good Lord!' faltered the old woman, running out of +the drawing-room; and, comprehending nothing, she fell on the spot in +the passage at Anna Sergyevna's feet, and began kissing her garments +like a mad woman. + +'What are you doing!' protested Anna Sergyevna; but Arina Vlasyevna did +not heed her, while Vassily Ivanovitch could only repeat, 'An angel! an +angel!' + +'_Wo ist der Kranke?_ and where is the patient?' said the doctor at +last, with some impatience. + +Vassily Ivanovitch recovered himself. 'Here, here, follow me, +wurdigster Herr Collega,' he added through old associations. + +'Ah!' articulated the German, grinning sourly. + +Vassily Ivanovitch led him into the study. 'The doctor from Anna +Sergyevna Odintsov,' he said, bending down quite to his son's ear, 'and +she herself is here.' + +Bazarov suddenly opened his eyes. 'What did you say?' + +'I say that Anna Sergyevna is here, and has brought this gentleman, a +doctor, to you.' + +Bazarov moved his eyes about him. 'She is here.... I want to see her.' + +'You shall see her, Yevgeny; but first we must have a little talk with +the doctor. I will tell him the whole history of your illness since +Sidor Sidoritch' (this was the name of the district doctor) 'has gone, +and we will have a little consultation.' + +Bazarov glanced at the German. 'Well, talk away quickly, only not in +Latin; you see, I know the meaning of _jam moritur_.' + +'_Der Herr scheint des Deutschen maechtig zu sein_,' began the new +follower of Aesculapius, turning to Vassily Ivanovitch. + +'_Ich_ ... _gabe_ ... We had better speak Russian,' said the old man. + +'Ah, ah! so that's how it is.... To be sure ...' And the consultation +began. + +Half-an-hour later Anna Sergyevna, conducted by Vassily Ivanovitch, +came into the study. The doctor had had time to whisper to her that it +was hopeless even to think of the patient's recovery. + +She looked at Bazarov ... and stood still in the doorway, so greatly +was she impressed by the inflamed, and at the same time deathly face, +with its dim eyes fastened upon her. She felt simply dismayed, with a +sort of cold and suffocating dismay; the thought that she would not +have felt like that if she had really loved him flashed instantaneously +through her brain. + +'Thanks,' he said painfully, 'I did not expect this. It's a deed of +mercy. So we have seen each other again, as you promised.' + +'Anna Sergyevna has been so kind,' began Vassily Ivanovitch ... + +'Father, leave us alone. Anna Sergyevna, you will allow it, I fancy, +now?' + +With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless frame. + +Vassily Ivanovitch went out. + +'Well, thanks,' repeated Bazarov. 'This is royally done. Monarchs, they +say, visit the dying too.' + +'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I hope----' + +'Ah, Anna Sergyevna, let us speak the truth. It's all over with me. I'm +under the wheel. So it turns out that it was useless to think of the +future. Death's an old joke, but it comes fresh to every one. So far +I'm not afraid ... but there, senselessness is coming, and then it's +all up!----' he waved his hand feebly. 'Well, what had I to say to +you ... I loved you! there was no sense in that even before, and less +than ever now. Love is a form, and my own form is already breaking +up. Better say how lovely you are! And now here you stand, so +beautiful ...' + +Anna Sergyevna gave an involuntary shudder. + +'Never mind, don't be uneasy.... Sit down there.... Don't come close to +me; you know, my illness is catching.' + +Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in the armchair +near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying. + +'Noble-hearted!' he whispered. 'Oh, how near, and how young, and fresh, +and pure ... in this loathsome room!... Well, good-bye! live long, +that's the best of all, and make the most of it while there is time. +You see what a hideous spectacle; the worm half-crushed, but writhing +still. And, you see, I thought too: I'd break down so many things, I +wouldn't die, why should I! there were problems to solve, and I was a +giant! And now all the problem for the giant is how to die decently, +though that makes no difference to any one either.... Never mind; I'm +not going to turn tail.' + +Bazarov was silent, and began feeling with his hand for the glass. Anna +Sergyevna gave him some drink, not taking off her glove, and drawing +her breath timorously. + +'You will forget me,' he began again; 'the dead's no companion for the +living. My father will tell you what a man Russia is losing.... That's +nonsense, but don't contradict the old man. Whatever toy will comfort +the child ... you know. And be kind to mother. People like them aren't +to be found in your great world if you look by daylight with a +candle.... I was needed by Russia.... No, it's clear, I wasn't needed. +And who is needed? The shoemaker's needed, the tailor's needed, the +butcher ... gives us meat ... the butcher ... wait a little, I'm +getting mixed.... There's a forest here ...' + +Bazarov put his hand to his brow. + +Anna Sergyevna bent down to him. 'Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I am here ...' + +He at once took his hand away, and raised himself. + +'Good-bye,' he said with sudden force, and his eyes gleamed with their +last light. 'Good-bye.... Listen ... you know I didn't kiss you +then.... Breathe on the dying lamp, and let it go out ...' + +Anna Sergyevna put her lips to his forehead. + +'Enough!' he murmured, and dropped back on to the pillow. 'Now ... +darkness ...' + +Anna Sergyevna went softly out. 'Well?' Vassily Ivanovitch asked her in +a whisper. + +'He has fallen asleep,' she answered, hardly audibly. Bazarov was not +fated to awaken. Towards evening he sank into complete unconsciousness, +and the following day he died. Father Alexey performed the last rites +of religion over him. When they anointed him with the last unction, +when the holy oil touched his breast, one eye opened, and it seemed as +though at the sight of the priest in his vestments, the smoking +censers, the light before the image, something like a shudder of horror +passed over the death-stricken face. When at last he had breathed his +last, and there arose a universal lamentation in the house, Vassily +Ivanovitch was seized by a sudden frenzy. 'I said I should rebel,' he +shrieked hoarsely, with his face inflamed and distorted, shaking his +fist in the air, as though threatening some one; 'and I rebel, I +rebel!' But Arina Vlasyevna, all in tears, hung upon his neck, and both +fell on their faces together. 'Side by side,' Anfisushka related +afterwards in the servants' room, 'they dropped their poor heads like +lambs at noonday ...' + +But the heat of noonday passes, and evening comes and night, and then, +too, the return to the kindly refuge, where sleep is sweet for the +weary and heavy laden.... + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +Six months had passed by. White winter had come with the cruel +stillness of unclouded frosts, the thick-lying, crunching snow, the +rosy rime on the trees, the pale emerald sky, the wreaths of smoke +above the chimneys, the clouds of steam rushing out of the doors when +they are opened for an instant, with the fresh faces, that look stung +by the cold, and the hurrying trot of the chilled horses. A January day +was drawing to its close; the cold evening was more keen than ever in +the motionless air, and a lurid sunset was rapidly dying away. There +were lights burning in the windows of the house at Maryino; Prokofitch +in a black frockcoat and white gloves, with a special solemnity, laid +the table for seven. A week before in the small parish church two +weddings had taken place quietly, and almost without witnesses--Arkady +and Katya's, and Nikolai Petrovitch and Fenitchka's; and on this day +Nikolai Petrovitch was giving a farewell dinner to his brother, who was +going away to Moscow on business. Anna Sergyevna had gone there also +directly after the ceremony was over, after making very handsome +presents to the young people. + +Precisely at three o'clock they all gathered about the table. Mitya was +placed there too; with him appeared a nurse in a cap of glazed brocade. +Pavel Petrovitch took his seat between Katya and Fenitchka; the +'husbands' took their places beside their wives. Our friends had +changed of late; they all seemed to have grown stronger and better +looking; only Pavel Petrovitch was thinner, which gave even more of an +elegant and 'grand seigneur' air to his expressive features.... And +Fenitchka too was different. In a fresh silk gown, with a wide velvet +head-dress on her hair, with a gold chain round her neck, she sat with +deprecating immobility, respectful towards herself and everything +surrounding her, and smiled as though she would say, 'I beg your +pardon; I'm not to blame.' And not she alone--all the others smiled, +and also seemed apologetic; they were all a little awkward, a little +sorry, and in reality very happy. They all helped one another with +humorous attentiveness, as though they had all agreed to rehearse a +sort of artless farce. Katya was the most composed of all; she looked +confidently about her, and it could be seen that Nikolai Petrovitch was +already devotedly fond of her. At the end of dinner he got up, and, his +glass in his hand, turned to Pavel Petrovitch. + +'You are leaving us ... you are leaving us, dear brother,' he began; +'not for long, to be sure; but still, I cannot help expressing what I +... what we ... how much I ... how much we.... There, the worst of it +is, we don't know how to make speeches. Arkady, you speak.' + +'No, daddy, I've not prepared anything.' + +'As though I were so well prepared! Well, brother, I will simply say, +let us embrace you, wish you all good luck, and come back to us as +quickly as you can!' + +Pavel Petrovitch exchanged kisses with every one, of course not +excluding Mitya; in Fenitchka's case, he kissed also her hand, which +she had not yet learned to offer properly, and drinking off the glass +which had been filled again, he said with a deep sigh, 'May you be +happy, my friends! _Farewell!_' This English finale passed unnoticed; +but all were touched. + +'To the memory of Bazarov,' Katya whispered in her husband's ear, as +she clinked glasses with him. Arkady pressed her hand warmly in +response, but he did not venture to propose this toast aloud. + +The end, would it seem? But perhaps some one of our readers would care +to know what each of the characters we have introduced is doing in the +present, the actual present. We are ready to satisfy him. + +Anna Sergyevna has recently made a marriage, not of love but of good +sense, with one of the future leaders of Russia, a very clever man, a +lawyer, possessed of vigorous practical sense, a strong will, and +remarkable fluency--still young, good-natured, and cold as ice. They +live in the greatest harmony together, and will live perhaps to attain +complete happiness ... perhaps love. The Princess K---- is dead, +forgotten the day of her death. The Kirsanovs, father and son, live at +Maryino; their fortunes are beginning to mend. Arkady has become +zealous in the management of the estate, and the 'farm' now yields a +fairly good income. Nikolai Petrovitch has been made one of the +mediators appointed to carry out the emancipation reforms, and works +with all his energies; he is for ever driving about over his district; +delivers long speeches (he maintains the opinion that the peasants +ought to be 'brought to comprehend things,' that is to say, they ought +to be reduced to a state of quiescence by the constant repetition of +the same words); and yet, to tell the truth, he does not give complete +satisfaction either to the refined gentry, who talk with _chic_, or +depression of the _emancipation_ (pronouncing it as though it were +French), nor of the uncultivated gentry, who unceremoniously curse 'the +damned _'mancipation_.' He is too soft-hearted for both sets. Katerina +Sergyevna has a son, little Nikolai, while Mitya runs about merrily and +talks fluently. Fenitchka, Fedosya Nikolaevna, after her husband and +Mitya, adores no one so much as her daughter-in-law, and when the +latter is at the piano, she would gladly spend the whole day at her +side. + +A passing word of Piotr. He has grown perfectly rigid with stupidity +and dignity, but he too is married, and received a respectable dowry +with his bride, the daughter of a market-gardener of the town, who had +refused two excellent suitors, only because they had no watch; while +Piotr had not only a watch--he had a pair of kid shoes. + +In the Bruhl Terrace in Dresden, between two and four o'clock--the most +fashionable time for walking--you may meet a man about fifty, quite +grey, and looking as though he suffered from gout, but still handsome, +elegantly dressed, and with that special stamp, which is only gained by +moving a long time in the higher strata of society. That is Pavel +Petrovitch. From Moscow he went abroad for the sake of his health, and +has settled for good at Dresden, where he associates most with English +and Russian visitors. With English people he behaves simply, almost +modestly, but with dignity; they find him rather a bore, but respect +him for being, as they say, _'a perfect gentleman.'_ With Russians he +is more free and easy, gives vent to his spleen, and makes fun of +himself and them, but that is done by him with great amiability, +negligence, and propriety. He holds Slavophil views; it is well known +that in the highest society this is regarded as _tres distingue_! He +reads nothing in Russian, but on his writing table there is a silver +ashpan in the shape of a peasant's plaited shoe. He is much run after +by our tourists. Matvy Ilyitch Kolyazin, happening to be in temporary +opposition, paid him a majestic visit; while the natives, with whom, +however, he is very little seen, positively grovel before him. No one +can so readily and quickly obtain a ticket for the court chapel, for +the theatre, and such things as _der Herr Baron von Kirsanoff_. He does +everything good-naturedly that he can; he still makes some little noise +in the world; it is not for nothing that he was once a great society +lion;--but life is a burden to him ... a heavier burden than he +suspects himself. One need but glance at him in the Russian church, +when, leaning against the wall on one side, he sinks into thought, and +remains long without stirring, bitterly compressing his lips, then +suddenly recollects himself, and begins almost imperceptibly crossing +himself.... + +Madame Kukshin, too, went abroad. She is in Heidelberg, and is now +studying not natural science, but architecture, in which, according to +her own account, she has discovered new laws. She still fraternises +with students, especially with the young Russians studying natural +science and chemistry, with whom Heidelberg is crowded, and who, +astounding the naive German professors at first by the soundness of +their views of things, astound the same professors no less in the +sequel by their complete inefficiency and absolute idleness. In company +with two or three such young chemists, who don't know oxygen from +nitrogen, but are filled with scepticism and self-conceit, and, too, +with the great Elisyevitch, Sitnikov roams about Petersburg, also +getting ready to be great, and in his own conviction continues the +'work' of Bazarov. There is a story that some one recently gave him a +beating; but he was avenged upon him; in an obscure little article, +hidden in an obscure little journal, he has hinted that the man who +beat him was a coward. He calls this irony. His father bullies him as +before, while his wife regards him as a fool ... and a literary man. + +There is a small village graveyard in one of the remote corners of +Russia. Like almost all our graveyards, it presents a wretched +appearance; the ditches surrounding it have long been overgrown; the +grey wooden crosses lie fallen and rotting under their once painted +gables; the stone slabs are all displaced, as though some one were +pushing them up from behind; two or three bare trees give a scanty +shade; the sheep wander unchecked among the tombs.... But among them is +one untouched by man, untrampled by beast, only the birds perch upon it +and sing at daybreak. An iron railing runs round it; two young +fir-trees have been planted, one at each end. Yevgeny Bazarov is buried +in this tomb. Often from the little village not far off, two quite +feeble old people come to visit it--a husband and wife. Supporting one +another, they move to it with heavy steps; they go up to the railing, +fall down, and remain on their knees, and long and bitterly they weep, +and yearn and intently gaze at the dumb stone, under which their son is +lying; they exchange some brief word, wipe away the dust from the +stone, set straight a branch of a fir-tree, and pray again, and cannot +tear themselves from this place, where they seem to be nearer to their +son, to their memories of him.... Can it be that their prayers, their +tears are fruitless? Can it be that love, sacred, devoted love, is not +all-powerful? Oh, no! However passionate, sinning, and rebellious the +heart hidden in the tomb, the flowers growing over it peep serenely at +us with their innocent eyes; they tell us not of eternal peace alone, +of that great peace of 'indifferent' nature; tell us too of eternal +reconciliation and of life without end. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FATHERS AND CHILDREN*** + + +******* This file should be named 30723.txt or 30723.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/7/2/30723 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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