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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/9615-8.txt b/9615-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4e59805 --- /dev/null +++ b/9615-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7437 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Diary of a Superfluous Man and Other +Stories, by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev + +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: The Diary of a Superfluous Man and Other Stories + +Author: Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev + +Posting Date: November 4, 2011 [EBook #9615] +Release Date: January, 2006 [EBook #9615] +[This file was first posted on October 10, 2003] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Keren Vergon, Lazar Liveanu and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + + + + +THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN + +AND OTHER STORIES + +by + +Ivan Turgenev + + + +_Translated from the Russian by Constance Garnett_ + + +1899 + + + +CONTENTS + + +THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN + +A TOUR IN THE FOREST + +YAKOV PASINKOV + +ANDREI KOLOSOV + +A CORRESPONDENCE + + + +THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN + + +VILLAGE OF SHEEP'S SPRINGS, _March_ 20, 18--. + +The doctor has just left me. At last I have got at something definite! +For all his cunning, he had to speak out at last. Yes, I am soon, very +soon, to die. The frozen rivers will break up, and with the last snow I +shall, most likely, swim away ... whither? God knows! To the ocean too. +Well, well, since one must die, one may as well die in the spring. But +isn't it absurd to begin a diary a fortnight, perhaps, before death? +What does it matter? And by how much are fourteen days less than +fourteen years, fourteen centuries? Beside eternity, they say, all is +nothingness--yes, but in that case eternity, too, is nothing. I see I +am letting myself drop into metaphysics; that's a bad sign--am I not +rather faint-hearted, perchance? I had better begin a description of +some sort. It's damp and windy out of doors. + +I'm forbidden to go out. What can I write about, then? No decent man +talks of his maladies; to write a novel is not in my line; reflections +on elevated topics are beyond me; descriptions of the life going on +around me could not even interest me; while I am weary of doing +nothing, and too lazy to read. Ah, I have it, I will write the story of +all my life for myself. A first-rate idea! Just before death it is a +suitable thing to do, and can be of no harm to any one. I will begin. + +I was born thirty years ago, the son of fairly well-to-do landowners. +My father had a passion for gambling; my mother was a woman of +character ... a very virtuous woman. Only, I have known no woman whose +moral excellence was less productive of happiness. She was crushed +beneath the weight of her own virtues, and was a source of misery to +every one, from herself upwards. In all the fifty years of her life, +she never once took rest, or sat with her hands in her lap; she was for +ever fussing and bustling about like an ant, and to absolutely no good +purpose, which cannot be said of the ant. The worm of restlessness +fretted her night and day. Only once I saw her perfectly tranquil, and +that was the day after her death, in her coffin. Looking at her, it +positively seemed to me that her face wore an expression of subdued +amazement; with the half-open lips, the sunken cheeks, and +meekly-staring eyes, it seemed expressing, all over, the words, 'How +good to be at rest!' Yes, it is good, good to be rid, at last, of the +wearing sense of life, of the persistent, restless consciousness of +existence! But that's neither here nor there. + +I was brought up badly and not happily. My father and mother both loved +me; but that made things no better for me. My father was not, even in +his own house, of the slightest authority or consequence, being a man +openly abandoned to a shameful and ruinous vice; he was conscious of +his degradation, and not having the strength of will to give up his +darling passion, he tried at least, by his invariably amiable and +humble demeanour and his unswerving submissiveness, to win the +condescending consideration of his exemplary wife. My mother certainly +did bear her trial with the superb and majestic long-suffering of +virtue, in which there is so much of egoistic pride. She never +reproached my father for anything, gave him her last penny, and paid +his debts without a word. He exalted her as a paragon to her face and +behind her back, but did not like to be at home, and caressed me by +stealth, as though he were afraid of contaminating me by his presence. +But at such times his distorted features were full of such kindness, +the nervous grin on his lips was replaced by such a touching smile, and +his brown eyes, encircled by fine wrinkles, shone with such love, that +I could not help pressing my cheek to his, which was wet and warm with +tears. I wiped away those tears with my handkerchief, and they flowed +again without effort, like water from a brimming glass. I fell to +crying, too, and he comforted me, stroking my back and kissing me all +over my face with his quivering lips. Even now, more than twenty years +after his death, when I think of my poor father, dumb sobs rise into my +throat, and my heart beats as hotly and bitterly and aches with as +poignant a pity as if it had long to go on beating, as if there were +anything to be sorry for! + +My mother's behaviour to me, on the contrary, was always the same, +kind, but cold. In children's books one often comes across such +mothers, sermonising and just. She loved me, but I did not love her. +Yes! I fought shy of my virtuous mother, and passionately loved my +vicious father. + +But enough for to-day. It's a beginning, and as for the end, whatever +it may be, I needn't trouble my head about it. That's for my illness to +see to. + + +_March_ 21. + +To-day it is marvellous weather. Warm, bright; the sunshine frolicking +gaily on the melting snow; everything shining, steaming, dripping; the +sparrows chattering like mad things about the drenched, dark hedges. + +Sweetly and terribly, too, the moist air frets my sick chest. Spring, +spring is coming! I sit at the window and look across the river into +the open country. O nature! nature! I love thee so, but I came forth +from thy womb good for nothing--not fit even for life. There goes a +cock-sparrow, hopping along with outspread wings; he chirrups, and +every note, every ruffled feather on his little body, is breathing with +health and strength.... + +What follows from that? Nothing. He is well and has a right to chirrup +and ruffle his wings; but I am ill and must die--that's all. It's not +worth while to say more about it. And tearful invocations to nature are +mortally absurd. Let us get back to my story. + +I was brought up, as I have said, very badly and not happily. I had no +brothers or sisters. I was educated at home. And, indeed, what would my +mother have had to occupy her, if I had been sent to a boarding-school +or a government college? That's what children are for--that their +parents may not be bored. We lived for the most part in the country, +and sometimes went to Moscow. I had tutors and teachers, as a matter of +course; one, in particular, has remained in my memory, a dried-up, +tearful German, Rickmann, an exceptionally mournful creature, cruelly +maltreated by destiny, and fruitlessly consumed by an intense pining +for his far-off fatherland. Sometimes, near the stove, in the fearful +stuffiness of the close ante-room, full of the sour smell of stale +kvas, my unshaved man-nurse, Vassily, nicknamed Goose, would sit, +playing cards with the coachman, Potap, in a new sheepskin, white as +foam, and superb tarred boots, while in the next room Rickmann would +sing, behind the partition-- + + Herz, mein Herz, warum so traurig? + Was bekümmert dich so sehr? + 'Sist ja schön im fremden Lande-- + Herz, mein Herz--was willst du mehr?' + +After my father's death we moved to Moscow for good. I was twelve years +old. My father died in the night from a stroke. I shall never forget +that night. I was sleeping soundly, as children generally do; but I +remember, even in my sleep, I was aware of a heavy gasping noise at +regular intervals. Suddenly I felt some one taking hold of my shoulder +and poking me. I opened my eyes and saw my nurse. 'What is it?' 'Come +along, come along, Alexey Mihalitch is dying.' ... I was out of bed and +away like a mad thing into his bedroom. I looked: my father was lying +with his head thrown back, all red, and gasping fearfully. The servants +were crowding round the door with terrified faces; in the hall some one +was asking in a thick voice: 'Have they sent for the doctor?' In the +yard outside, a horse was being led from the stable, the gates were +creaking, a tallow candle was burning in the room on the floor, my +mother was there, terribly upset, but not oblivious of the proprieties, +nor of her own dignity. I flung myself on my father's bosom, and hugged +him, faltering: 'Papa, papa...' He lay motionless, screwing up his eyes +in a strange way. I looked into his face--an unendurable horror caught +my breath; I shrieked with terror, like a roughly captured bird--they +picked me up and carried me away. Only the day before, as though aware +his death was at hand, he had caressed me so passionately and +despondently. + +A sleepy, unkempt doctor, smelling strongly of spirits, was brought. My +father died under his lancet, and the next day, utterly stupefied by +grief, I stood with a candle in my hands before a table, on which lay +the dead man, and listened senselessly to the bass sing-song of the +deacon, interrupted from time to time by the weak voice of the priest. +The tears kept streaming over my cheeks, my lips, my collar, my +shirt-front. I was dissolved in tears; I watched persistently, I +watched intently, my father's rigid face, as though I expected +something of him; while my mother slowly bowed down to the ground, +slowly rose again, and pressed her fingers firmly to her forehead, her +shoulders, and her chest, as she crossed herself. I had not a single +idea in my head; I was utterly numb, but I felt something terrible was +happening to me.... Death looked me in the face that day and took note +of me. + +We moved to Moscow after my father's death for a very simple cause: all +our estate was sold up by auction for debts--that is, absolutely all, +except one little village, the one in which I am at this moment living +out my magnificent existence. I must admit that, in spite of my youth +at the time, I grieved over the sale of our home, or rather, in +reality, I grieved over our garden. Almost my only bright memories are +associated with our garden. It was there that one mild spring evening I +buried my best friend, an old bob-tailed, crook-pawed dog, Trix. It was +there that, hidden in the long grass, I used to eat stolen +apples--sweet, red, Novgorod apples they were. There, too, I saw for +the first time, among the ripe raspberry bushes, the housemaid Klavdia, +who, in spite of her turned-up nose and habit of giggling in her +kerchief, aroused such a tender passion in me that I could hardly +breathe, and stood faint and tongue-tied in her presence; and once at +Easter, when it came to her turn to kiss my seignorial hand, I almost +flung myself at her feet to kiss her down-trodden goat-skin slippers. +My God! Can all that be twenty years ago? It seems not long ago that I +used to ride on my shaggy chestnut pony along the old fence of our +garden, and, standing up in the stirrups, used to pick the two-coloured +poplar leaves. While a man is living he is not conscious of his own +life; it becomes audible to him, like a sound, after the lapse of time. + +Oh, my garden, oh, the tangled paths by the tiny pond! Oh, the little +sandy spot below the tumbledown dike, where I used to catch gudgeons! +And you tall birch-trees, with long hanging branches, from beyond which +came floating a peasant's mournful song, broken by the uneven jolting +of the cart, I send you my last farewell!... On parting with life, to +you alone I stretch out my hands. Would I might once more inhale the +fresh, bitter fragrance of the wormwood, the sweet scent of the mown +buckwheat in the fields of my native place! Would I might once more +hear far away the modest tinkle of the cracked bell of our parish +church; once more lie in the cool shade under the oak sapling on the +slope of the familiar ravine; once more watch the moving track of the +wind, flitting, a dark wave over the golden grass of our meadow!... Ah, +what's the good of all this? But I can't go on to-day. Enough till +to-morrow. + + +_March_ 22. + +To-day it's cold and overcast again. Such weather is a great deal more +suitable. It's more in harmony with my task. Yesterday, quite +inappropriately, stirred up a multitude of useless emotions and +memories within me. This shall not occur again. Sentimental out-breaks +are like liquorice; when first you suck it, it's not bad, but +afterwards it leaves a very nasty taste in the mouth. I will set to +work simply and serenely to tell the story of my life. And so, we moved +to Moscow.... + +But it occurs to me, is it really worth while to tell the story of my +life? + +No, it certainly is not.... My life has not been different in any +respect from the lives of numbers of other people. The parental home, +the university, the government service in the lower grades, retirement, +a little circle of friends, decent poverty, modest pleasures, +unambitious pursuits, moderate desires--kindly tell me, is that new to +any one? And so I will not tell the story of my life, especially as I +am writing for my own pleasure; and if my past does not afford even me +any sensation of great pleasure or great pain, it must be that there is +nothing in it deserving of attention. I had better try to describe my +own character to myself. What manner of man am I?... It may be observed +that no one asks me that question--admitted. But there, I'm dying, by +Jove!--I'm dying, and at the point of death I really think one may be +excused a desire to find out what sort of a queer fish one really was +after all. + +Thinking over this important question, and having, moreover, no need +whatever to be too bitter in my expressions in regard to myself, as +people are apt to be who have a strong conviction of their valuable +qualities, I must admit one thing. I was a man, or perhaps I should say +a fish, utterly superfluous in this world. And that I propose to show +to-morrow, as I keep coughing to-day like an old sheep, and my nurse, +Terentyevna, gives me no peace: 'Lie down, my good sir,' she says, 'and +drink a little tea.'... I know why she keeps on at me: she wants some +tea herself. Well! she's welcome! Why not let the poor old woman +extract the utmost benefit she can from her master at the last ... as +long as there is still the chance? + + +_March_ 23. + +Winter again. The snow is falling in flakes. Superfluous, +superfluous.... That's a capital word I have hit on. The more deeply I +probe into myself, the more intently I review all my past life, the +more I am convinced of the strict truth of this expression. +Superfluous--that's just it. To other people that term is not +applicable.... People are bad, or good, clever, stupid, pleasant, and +disagreeable; but superfluous ... no. Understand me, though: the +universe could get on without those people too... no doubt; but +uselessness is not their prime characteristic, their most distinctive +attribute, and when you speak of them, the word 'superfluous' is not +the first to rise to your lips. But I ... there's nothing else one can +say about me; I'm superfluous and nothing more. A supernumerary, and +that's all. Nature, apparently, did not reckon on my appearance, and +consequently treated me as an unexpected and uninvited guest. A +facetious gentleman, a great devotee of preference, said very happily +about me that I was the forfeit my mother had paid at the game of life. +I am speaking about myself calmly now, without any bitterness.... It's +all over and done with! Throughout my whole life I was constantly +finding my place taken, perhaps because I did not look for my place +where I should have done. I was apprehensive, reserved, and irritable, +like all sickly people. Moreover, probably owing to excessive +self-consciousness, perhaps as the result of the generally unfortunate +cast of my personality, there existed between my thoughts and feelings, +and the expression of those feelings and thoughts, a sort of +inexplicable, irrational, and utterly insuperable barrier; and whenever +I made up my mind to overcome this obstacle by force, to break down +this barrier, my gestures, the expression of my face, my whole being, +took on an appearance of painful constraint. I not only seemed, I +positively became unnatural and affected. I was conscious of this +myself, and hastened to shrink back into myself. Then a terrible +commotion was set up within me. I analysed myself to the last thread, +compared myself with others, recalled the slightest glances, smiles, +words of the people to whom I had tried to open myself out, put the +worst construction on everything, laughed vindictively at my own +pretensions to 'be like every one else,'--and suddenly, in the midst of +my laughter, collapsed utterly into gloom, sank into absurd dejection, +and then began again as before--went round and round, in fact, like a +squirrel on its wheel. Whole days were spent in this harassing, +fruitless exercise. Well now, tell me, if you please, to whom and for +what is such a man of use? Why did this happen to me? what was the +reason of this trivial fretting at myself?--who knows? who can tell? + +I remember I was driving once from Moscow in the diligence. It was a +good road, but the driver, though he had four horses harnessed abreast, +hitched on another, alongside of them. Such an unfortunate, utterly +useless, fifth horse--fastened somehow on to the front of the shaft by +a short stout cord, which mercilessly cuts his shoulder, forces him to +go with the most unnatural action, and gives his whole body the shape +of a comma--always arouses my deepest pity. I remarked to the driver +that I thought we might on this occasion have got on without the fifth +horse.... He was silent a moment, shook his head, lashed the horse a +dozen times across his thin back and under his distended belly, and +with a grin responded: 'Ay, to be sure; why do we drag him along with +us? What the devil's he for?' And here am I too dragged along. But, +thank goodness, the station is not far off. + +Superfluous.... I promised to show the justice of my opinion, and I +will carry out my promise. I don't think it necessary to mention the +thousand trifles, everyday incidents and events, which would, however, +in the eyes of any thinking man, serve as irrefutable evidence in my +support--I mean, in support of my contention. I had better begin +straight away with one rather important incident, after which probably +there will be no doubt left of the accuracy of the term superfluous. I +repeat: I do not intend to indulge in minute details, but I cannot pass +over in silence one rather serious and significant fact, that is, the +strange behaviour of my friends (I too used to have friends) whenever I +met them, or even called on them. They used to seem ill at ease; as +they came to meet me, they would give a not quite natural smile, look, +not into my eyes nor at my feet, as some people do, but rather at my +cheeks, articulate hurriedly, 'Ah! how are you, Tchulkaturin!' (such is +the surname fate has burdened me with) or 'Ah! here's Tchulkaturin!' +turn away at once and positively remain stockstill for a little while +after, as though trying to recollect something. I used to notice all +this, as I am not devoid of penetration and the faculty of observation; +on the whole I am not a fool; I sometimes even have ideas come into my +head that are amusing, not absolutely commonplace. But as I am a +superfluous man with a padlock on my inner self, it is very painful for +me to express my idea, the more so as I know beforehand that I shall +express it badly. It positively sometimes strikes me as extraordinary +the way people manage to talk, and so simply and freely.... It's +marvellous, really, when you think of it. Though, to tell the truth, I +too, in spite of my padlock, sometimes have an itch to talk. But I did +actually utter words only in my youth; in riper years I almost always +pulled myself up. I would murmur to myself: 'Come, we'd better hold our +tongue.' And I was still. We are all good hands at being silent; our +women especially are great in that line. Many an exalted Russian young +lady keeps silent so strenuously that the spectacle is calculated to +produce a faint shudder and cold sweat even in any one prepared to face +it. But that's not the point, and it's not for me to criticise others. +I proceed to my promised narrative. + +A few years back, owing to a combination of circumstances, very +insignificant in themselves, but very important for me, it was my lot +to spend six months in the district town O----. This town is all built +on a slope, and very uncomfortably built, too. There are reckoned to be +about eight hundred inhabitants in it, of exceptional poverty; the +houses are hardly worthy of the name; in the chief street, by way of an +apology for a pavement, there are here and there some huge white slabs +of rough-hewn limestone, in consequence of which even carts drive round +it instead of through it. In the very middle of an astoundingly dirty +square rises a diminutive yellowish edifice with black holes in it, and +in these holes sit men in big caps making a pretence of buying and +selling. In this place there is an extraordinarily high striped post +sticking up into the air, and near the post, in the interests of public +order, by command of the authorities, there is kept a cartload of +yellow hay, and one government hen struts to and fro. In short, +existence in the town of O---- is truly delightful. During the first +days of my stay in this town, I almost went out of my mind with +boredom. I ought to say of myself that, though I am, no doubt, a +superfluous man, I am not so of my own seeking; I'm morbid myself, but +I can't bear anything morbid.... I'm not even averse to happiness-- +indeed, I've tried to approach it right and left.... And so it is no +wonder that I too can be bored like any other mortal. I was staying in +the town of O---- on official business. + +Terentyevna has certainly sworn to make an end of me. Here's a specimen +of our conversation:-- + +TERENTYEVNA. Oh--oh, my good sir! what are you for ever writing for? +it's bad for you, keeping all on writing. + +I. But I'm dull, Terentyevna. + +SHE. Oh, you take a cup of tea now and lie down. By God's mercy you'll +get in a sweat and maybe doze a bit. + +I. But I'm not sleepy. + +SHE. Ah, sir! why do you talk so? Lord have mercy on you! Come, lie +down, lie down; it's better for you. + +I. I shall die any way, Terentyevna! + +SHE. Lord bless us and save us!... Well, do you want a little tea? + +I. I shan't live through the week, Terentyevna! + +SHE. Eh, eh! good sir, why do you talk so?... Well, I'll go and heat +the samovar. + +Oh, decrepit, yellow, toothless creature! Am I really, even in your +eyes, not a man? + + +_March 24. Sharp frost_. + +On the very day of my arrival in the town of O----, the official +business, above referred to, brought me into contact with a certain +Kirilla Matveitch Ozhogin, one of the chief functionaries of the +district; but I became intimate, or, as it is called, 'friends' with +him a fortnight later. His house was in the principal street, and was +distinguished from all the others by its size, its painted roof, and +the lions on its gates, lions of that species extraordinarily +resembling unsuccessful dogs, whose natural home is Moscow. From those +lions alone, one might safely conclude that Ozhogin was a man of +property. And so it was; he was the owner of four hundred peasants; he +entertained in his house all the best society of the town of O----, and +had a reputation for hospitality. At his door was seen the mayor with +his wide chestnut-coloured droshky and pair--an exceptionally bulky +man, who seemed as though cut out of material that had been laid by for +a long time. The other officials, too, used to drive to his receptions: +the attorney, a yellowish, spiteful creature; the land surveyor, a +wit--of German extraction, with a Tartar face; the inspector of means +of communication--a soft soul, who sang songs, but a scandalmonger; a +former marshal of the district--a gentleman with dyed hair, crumpled +shirt front, and tight trousers, and that lofty expression of face so +characteristic of men who have stood on trial. There used to come also +two landowners, inseparable friends, both no longer young and indeed a +little the worse for wear, of whom the younger was continually crushing +the elder and putting him to silence with one and the same reproach. +'Don't you talk, Sergei Sergeitch! What have you to say? Why, you spell +the word cork with two _k_'s in it.... Yes, gentlemen,' he would go on, +with all the fire of conviction, turning to the bystanders, 'Sergei +Sergeitch spells it not cork, but kork.' And every one present would +laugh, though probably not one of them was conspicuous for special +accuracy in orthography, while the luckless Sergei Sergeitch held his +tongue, and with a faint smile bowed his head. But I am forgetting that +my hours are numbered, and am letting myself go into too minute +descriptions. And so, without further beating about the bush,--Ozhogin +was married, he had a daughter, Elizaveta Kirillovna, and I fell in +love with this daughter. + +Ozhogin himself was a commonplace person, neither good-looking nor +bad-looking; his wife resembled an aged chicken; but their daughter had +not taken after her parents. She was very pretty and of a bright and +gentle disposition. Her clear grey eyes looked out kindly and directly +from under childishly arched brows; she was almost always smiling, and +she laughed too, pretty often. Her fresh voice had a very pleasant +ring; she moved freely, rapidly, and blushed gaily. She did not dress +very stylishly, only plain dresses suited her. I did not make friends +quickly as a rule, and if I were at ease with any one from the +first--which, however, scarcely ever occurred--it said, I must own, a +great deal for my new acquaintance. I did not know at all how to behave +with women, and in their presence I either scowled and put on a morose +air, or grinned in the most idiotic way, and in my embarrassment turned +my tongue round and round in my mouth. With Elizaveta Kirillovna, on +the contrary, I felt at home from the first moment. It happened in this +way. + +I called one day at Ozhogin's before dinner, asked, 'At home?' was +told, 'The master's at home, dressing; please to walk into the +drawing-room.' I went into the drawing-room; I beheld standing at the +window, with her back to me, a girl in a white gown, with a cage in her +hands. I was, as my way was, somewhat taken aback; however, I showed no +sign of it, but merely coughed, for good manners. The girl turned round +quickly, so quickly that her curls gave her a slap in the face, saw me, +bowed, and with a smile showed me a little box half full of seeds. 'You +don't mind?' I, of course, as is the usual practice in such cases, +first bowed my head, and at the same time rapidly crooked my knees, and +straightened them out again (as though some one had given me a blow +from behind in the legs, a sure sign of good breeding and pleasant, +easy manners), and then smiled, raised my hand, and softly and +carefully brandished it twice in the air. The girl at once turned away +from me, took a little piece of board out of the cage, began vigorously +scraping it with a knife, and suddenly, without changing her attitude, +uttered the following words: 'This is papa's parrot.... Are you fond of +parrots?' 'I prefer siskins,' I answered, not without some effort. 'I +like siskins, too; but look at him, isn't he pretty? Look, he's not +afraid.' (What surprised me was that I was not afraid.) 'Come closer. +His name's Popka.' I went up, and bent down. 'Isn't he really sweet?' +She turned her face to me; but we were standing so close together, that +she had to throw her head back to get a look at me with her clear eyes. +I gazed at her; her rosy young face was smiling all over in such a +friendly way that I smiled too, and almost laughed aloud with delight. +The door opened; Mr. Ozhogin came in. I promptly went up to him, and +began talking to him very unconstrainedly. I don't know how it was, but +I stayed to dinner, and spent the whole evening with them; and next day +the Ozhogins' footman, an elongated, dull-eyed person, smiled upon me +as a friend of the family when he helped me off with my overcoat. + +To find a haven of refuge, to build oneself even a temporary nest, to +feel the comfort of daily intercourse and habits, was a happiness I, a +superfluous man, with no family associations, had never before +experienced. If anything about me had had any resemblance to a flower, +and if the comparison were not so hackneyed, I would venture to say +that my soul blossomed from that day. Everything within me and about me +was suddenly transformed! My whole life was lighted up by love, the +whole of it, down to the paltriest details, like a dark, deserted room +when a light has been brought into it. I went to bed, and got up, +dressed, ate my breakfast, and smoked my pipe--differently from before. +I positively skipped along as I walked, as though wings were suddenly +sprouting from my shoulders. I was not for an instant, I remember, in +uncertainty with regard to the feeling Elizaveta Kirillovna inspired in +me. I fell passionately in love with her from the first day, and from +the first day I knew I was in love. During the course of three weeks I +saw her every day. Those three weeks were the happiest time in my life; +but the recollection of them is painful to me. I can't think of them +alone; I cannot help dwelling on what followed after them, and the +intensest bitterness slowly takes possession of my softened heart. + +When a man is very happy, his brain, as is well known, is not very +active. A calm and delicious sensation, the sensation of satisfaction, +pervades his whole being; he is swallowed up by it; the consciousness +of personal life vanishes in him--he is in beatitude, as badly educated +poets say. But when, at last, this 'enchantment' is over, a man is +sometimes vexed and sorry that, in the midst of his bliss, he observed +himself so little; that he did not, by reflection, by recollection, +redouble and prolong his feelings ... as though the 'beatific' man had +time, and it were worth his while to reflect on his sensations! The +happy man is what the fly is in the sunshine. And so it is that, when I +recall those three weeks, it is almost impossible for me to retain in +my mind any exact and definite impression, all the more so as during +that time nothing very remarkable took place between us.... Those +twenty days are present to my imagination as something warm, and young, +and fragrant, a sort of streak of light in my dingy, greyish life. My +memory becomes all at once remorselessly clear and trustworthy, only +from the instant when, to use the phrase of badly-educated writers, the +blows of destiny began to fall upon me. + +Yes, those three weeks.... Not but what they have left some images in +my mind. Sometimes when it happens to me to brood a long while on that +time, some memories suddenly float up out of the darkness of the +past--like stars which suddenly come out against the evening sky to +meet the eyes straining to catch sight of them. One country walk in a +wood has remained particularly distinct in my memory. There were four +of us, old Madame Ozhogin, Liza, I, and a certain Bizmyonkov, a petty +official of the town of O----, a light-haired, good-natured, and +harmless person. I shall have more to say of him later. Mr. Ozhogin had +stayed at home; he had a headache, from sleeping too long. The day was +exquisite; warm and soft. I must observe that pleasure-gardens and +picnic-parties are not to the taste of the average Russian. In district +towns, in the so-called public gardens, you never meet a living soul at +any time of the year; at the most, some old woman sits sighing and +moaning on a green garden seat, broiling in the sun, not far from a +sickly tree--and that, only if there is no greasy little bench in the +gateway near. But if there happens to be a scraggy birchwood in the +neighbourhood of the town, tradespeople and even officials gladly make +excursions thither on Sundays and holidays, with samovars, pies, and +melons; set all this abundance on the dusty grass, close by the road, +sit round, and eat and drink tea in the sweat of their brows till +evening. Just such a wood there was at that time a mile and a half from +the town of O---. We repaired there after dinner, duly drank our fill +of tea, and then all four began to wander about the wood. Bizmyonkov +walked with Madame Ozhogin on his arm, I with Liza on mine. The day was +already drawing to evening. I was at that time in the very fire of +first love (not more than a fortnight had passed since our first +meeting), in that condition of passionate and concentrated adoration, +when your whole soul innocently and unconsciously follows every +movement of the beloved being, when you can never have enough of her +presence, listen enough to her voice, when you smile with the look of a +child convalescent after sickness, and a man of the smallest experience +cannot fail at the first glance to recognise a hundred yards off what +is the matter with you. Till that day I had never happened to have Liza +on my arm. We walked side by side, stepping slowly over the green +grass. A light breeze, as it were, flitted about us between the white +stems of the birches, every now and then flapping the ribbon of her hat +into my face. I incessantly followed her eyes, until at last she turned +gaily to me and we both smiled at each other. The birds were chirping +approvingly above us, the blue sky peeped caressingly at us through the +delicate foliage. My head was going round with excess of bliss. I +hasten to remark, Liza was not a bit in love with me. She liked me; she +was never shy with any one, but it was not reserved for me to trouble +her childlike peace of mind. She walked arm in arm with me, as she +would with a brother. She was seventeen then.... And meanwhile, that +very evening, before my eyes, there began that soft inward ferment +which precedes the metamorphosis of the child into the woman.... I was +witness of that transformation of the whole being, that guileless +bewilderment, that agitated dreaminess; I was the first to detect the +sudden softness of the glance, the sudden ring in the voice--and oh, +fool! oh, superfluous man! For a whole week I had the face to imagine +that I, I was the cause of this transformation! + +This was how it happened. + +We walked rather a long while, till evening, and talked little. I was +silent, like all inexperienced lovers, and she, probably, had nothing +to say to me. But she seemed to be pondering over something, and shook +her head in a peculiar way, as she pensively nibbled a leaf she had +picked. Sometimes she started walking ahead, so resolutely...then all +at once stopped, waited for me, and looked round with lifted eyebrows +and a vague smile. On the previous evening we had read together. _The +Prisoner of the Caucasus_. With what eagerness she had listened to me, +her face propped in both hands, and her bosom pressed against the +table! I began to speak of our yesterday's reading; she flushed, asked +me whether I had given the parrot any hemp-seed before starting, began +humming some little song aloud, and all at once was silent again. The +copse ended on one side in a rather high and abrupt precipice; below +coursed a winding stream, and beyond it, over an immense expanse, +stretched the boundless prairies, rising like waves, spreading wide +like a table-cloth, and broken here and there by ravines. Liza and I +were the first to come out at the edge of the wood; Bizmyonkov and the +elder lady were behind. We came out, stood still, and involuntarily we +both half shut our eyes; directly facing us, across a lurid mist, the +vast, purple sun was setting. Half the sky was flushed and glowing; red +rays fell slanting on the meadows, casting a crimson reflection even on +the side of the ravines in shadow, lying in gleams of fire on the +stream, where it was not hidden under the overhanging bushes, and, as +it were, leaning on the bosom of the precipice and the copse. We stood, +bathed in the blazing brilliance. I am not capable of describing all +the impassioned solemnity of this scene. They say that by a blind man +the colour red is imagined as the sound of a trumpet. I don't know how +far this comparison is correct, but really there was something of a +challenge in this glowing gold of the evening air, in the crimson flush +on sky and earth. I uttered a cry of rapture and at once turned to +Liza. She was looking straight at the sun. I remember the sunset glow +was reflected in little points of fire in her eyes. She was +overwhelmed, deeply moved. She made no response to my exclamation; for +a long while she stood, not stirring, with drooping head.... I held out +my hand to her; she turned away from me, and suddenly burst into tears. +I looked at her with secret, almost delighted amazement.... The voice +of Bizmyonkov was heard a couple of yards off. Liza quickly wiped her +tears and looked with a faltering smile at me. The elder lady came out +of the copse leaning on the arm of her flaxen-headed escort; they, in +their turn, admired the view. The old lady addressed some question to +Liza, and I could not help shuddering, I remember, when her daughter's +broken voice, like cracked glass, sounded in reply. Meanwhile the sun +had set, and the afterglow began to fade. We turned back. Again I took +Liza's arm in mine. It was still light in the wood, and I could clearly +distinguish her features. She was confused, and did not raise her eyes. +The flush that overspread her face did not vanish; it was as though she +were still standing in the rays of the setting sun.... Her hand +scarcely touched my arm. For a long while I could not frame a sentence; +my heart was beating so violently. Through the trees there was a +glimpse of the carriage in the distance; the coachman was coming at a +walking pace to meet us over the soft sand of the road. + +'Lizaveta Kirillovna,' I brought out at last, 'what did you cry for?' + +'I don't know,' she answered, after a short silence. She looked at me +with her soft eyes still wet with tears--her look struck me as changed, +and she was silent again. + +'You are very fond, I see, of nature,' I pursued. That was not at all +what I meant to say, and the last words my tongue scarcely faltered out +to the end. She shook her head. I could not utter another word.... I +was waiting for something ... not an avowal--how was that possible? I +waited for a confiding glance, a question.... But Liza looked at the +ground, and kept silent. I repeated once more in a whisper: 'Why was +it?' and received no reply. She had grown, I saw that, ill at ease, +almost ashamed. + +A quarter of an hour later we were sitting in the carriage driving to +the town. The horses flew along at an even trot; we were rapidly whirled +along through the darkening, damp air. I suddenly began talking, more +than once addressing first Bizmyonkov, and then Madame Ozhogin. I did +not look at Liza, but I could see that from her corner in the carriage +her eyes did not once rest on me. At home she roused herself, but would +not read with me, and soon went off to bed. A turning-point, that +turning-point I have spoken of, had been reached by her. She had ceased +to be a little girl, she too had begun ... like me ... to wait for +something. She had not long to wait. + +But that night I went home to my lodgings in a state of perfect +ecstasy. The vague half presentiment, half suspicion, which had been +arising within me, had vanished. The sudden constraint in Liza's manner +towards me I ascribed to maidenly bashfulness, timidity.... Hadn't I +read a thousand times over in many books that the first appearance of +love always agitates and alarms a young girl? I felt supremely happy, +and was already making all sorts of plans in my head. + +If some one had whispered in my ear then: 'You're raving, my dear chap! +that's not a bit what's in store for you. What's in store for you is to +die all alone, in a wretched little cottage, amid the insufferable +grumbling of an old hag who will await your death with impatience to +sell your boots for a few coppers...'! + +Yes, one can't help saying with the Russian philosopher--'How's one to +know what one doesn't know?' + +Enough for to-day. + + +_March 25. A white winter day._ + +I have read over what I wrote yesterday, and was all but tearing up the +whole manuscript. I think my story's too spun out and too sentimental. +However, as the rest of my recollections of that time presents nothing +of a pleasurable character, except that peculiar sort of consolation +which Lermontov had in view when he said there is pleasure and pain in +irritating the sores of old wounds, why not indulge oneself? But one +must know where to draw the line. And so I will continue without any +sort of sentimentality. + +During the whole of the week after the country excursion, my position +was in reality in no way improved, though the change in Liza became +more noticeable every day. I interpreted this change, as I have said +before, in the most favourable way for me.... The misfortune of +solitary and timid people--who are timid from self-consciousness--is +just that, though they have eyes and indeed open them wide, they see +nothing, or see everything in a false light, as though through coloured +spectacles. Their own ideas and speculations trip them up at every +step. At the commencement of our acquaintance, Liza behaved confidingly +and freely with me, like a child; perhaps there may even have been in +her attitude to me something more than mere childish liking.... But +after this strange, almost instantaneous change had taken place in her, +after a period of brief perplexity, she felt constrained in my +presence; she unconsciously turned away from me, and was at the same +time melancholy and dreamy.... She was waiting ... for what? She did +not know ... while I ... I, as I have said above, was delighted at this +change.... Yes, by God, I was ready to expire, as they say, with +rapture. Though I am prepared to allow that any one else in my place +might have been deceived.... Who is free from vanity? I need not say +that all this was only clear to me in the course of time, when I had to +lower my clipped and at no time over-powerful wings. + +The misunderstanding that had arisen between Liza and me lasted a whole +week--and there is nothing surprising in that: it has been my lot to be +a witness of misunderstandings that have lasted for years and years. +Who was it said, by the way, that truth alone is powerful? Falsehood is +just as living as truth, if not more so. To be sure, I recollect that +even during that week I felt from time to time an uneasy gnawing astir +within me ... but solitary people like me, I say again, are as +incapable of understanding what is going on within them as what is +taking place before their eyes. And, besides, is love a natural +feeling? Is it natural for man to love? Love is a sickness; and for +sickness there is no law. Granting that there was at times an +unpleasant pang in my heart; well, everything inside me was turned +upside down. And how is one to know in such circumstances, what is all +right and what is all wrong? and what is the cause, and what the +significance, of each separate symptom? But, be that as it may, all +these misconceptions, presentiments, and hopes were shattered in the +following manner. + +One day--it was in the morning about twelve o'clock--I had hardly +entered Mr. Ozhogin's hall, when I heard an unfamiliar, mellow voice in +the drawing-room, the door opened, and a tall and slim man of +five-and-twenty appeared in the doorway, escorted by the master of the +house. He rapidly put on a military overcoat which lay on the slab, and +took cordial leave of Kirilla Matveitch. As he brushed past me, he +carelessly touched his foraging cap, and vanished with a clink of his +spurs. + +'Who is that?' I asked Ozhogin. + +'Prince N., 'the latter responded, with a preoccupied face; 'sent from +Petersburg to collect recruits. But where are the servants?' he went on +in a tone of annoyance; 'no one handed him his coat.' + +We went into the drawing-room. + +'Has he been here long?' I inquired. + +'Arrived yesterday evening, I'm told. I offered him a room here, but he +refused. He seems a very nice fellow, though.' + +'Has he been long with you?' + +'About an hour. He asked me to introduce him to Olimpiada Nikitishna.' + +'And did you introduce him?' + +'Of course.' + +'And Lizaveta Kirillovna, too, did he ...' + +'He made her acquaintance, too, of course.' + +I was silent for a space. + +'Has he come here for long, do you know?' + +'Yes, I believe he has to be here for a fortnight.' + +And Kirilla Matveitch hurried away to dress. I walked several times up +and down the drawing-room. I don't recollect that Prince N.'s arrival +made any special impression on me at the time, except that feeling of +hostility which usually possesses us on the appearance of any new +person in our domestic circle. Possibly there was mingled with this +feeling something too of the nature of envy--of a shy and obscure +person from Moscow towards a brilliant officer from Petersburg. 'The +prince,' I mused, 'is an upstart from the capital; he'll look down upon +us....' I had not seen him for more than an instant, but I had had time +to perceive that he was good-looking, clever, and at his ease. After +pacing the room for some time, I stopped at last before a +looking-glass, pulled a comb out of my pocket, gave a picturesque +carelessness to my hair, and, as sometimes happens, became suddenly +absorbed in the contemplation of my own face. I remember my attention +centred anxiously about my nose; the soft and undefined outlines of +that feature afforded me no great satisfaction, when suddenly in the +dark depths of the sloping mirror, which reflected almost the whole +room, the door opened, and the slender figure of Liza appeared. I don't +know why I did not stir, and kept the same expression on my face. Liza +craned her head forward, looked intently at me, and raising her +eyebrows, biting her lips, and holding her breath as any one does who +is glad at not being noticed, she cautiously drew back and stealthily +drew the door to after her. The door creaked slightly. Liza started and +stood rooted to the spot... I still kept from stirring ... she pulled +the handle again and vanished. There was no possibility of doubt: the +expression of Liza's face at the sight of my figure, that expression in +which nothing could be detected except a desire to get away again +successfully, to escape a disagreeable interview, the quick flash of +delight I had time to catch in her eyes when she fancied she really had +managed to creep away unnoticed--it all spoke too clearly; that girl +did not love me. For a long, long while I could not take my eyes off +that motionless, dumb door, which was once more a patch of white in the +looking-glass. I tried to smile at my own long face--dropped my head, +went home again, and flung myself on the sofa. I felt extraordinarily +heavy at heart, so much so that I could not cry ... and, besides, what +was there to cry about...? 'Is it possible?' I repeated incessantly, +lying, as though I were murdered, on my back with my hands folded on my +breast--'is it possible?'...Don't you think that's rather good, that +'is it possible?' + + +_March 26. Thaw._ + +When, next day, after long hesitation and with a low sinking at my +heart, I went into the Ozhogins' familiar drawing-room, I was no longer +the same man as they had known during the last three weeks. All my old +peculiarities, which I had begun to get over, under the influence of a +new feeling, reappeared and took possession of me, like proprietors +returning to their house. People of my sort are usually guided, not so +much by positive facts, as by their own impressions: I, who no longer +ago than the day before had been dreaming of the 'raptures of love +returned,' was that day no less convinced of my 'unhappiness,' and was +absolutely despairing, though I was not myself able to find any +rational ground for my despair. I could not as yet be jealous of Prince +N., and whatever his qualities might be, his mere arrival was not +sufficient to extinguish Liza's good-will towards me at once.... But +stay, was there any good-will on her part? I recalled the past. 'What +of the walk in the wood?' I asked myself. 'What of the expression of +her face in the glass?' 'But,' I went on, 'the walk in the wood, I +think ... Fie on me! my God, what a wretched creature I am!' I said at +last, out loud. Of such sort were the unphrased, incomplete thoughts +that went round and round a thousand times over in a monotonous whirl +in my head. I repeat, I went back to the Ozhogins' the same +hypersensitive, suspicious, constrained creature I had been from my +childhood up.... + +I found the whole family in the drawing-room; Bizmyonkov was sitting +there, too, in a corner. Every one seemed in high good-humour; Ozhogin, +in particular, positively beamed, and his first word was to tell me +that Prince N. had spent the whole of the previous evening with them. +Liza gave me a tranquil greeting. 'Oh,' said I to myself; 'now I +understand why you're in such spirits.' I must own the prince's second +visit puzzled me. I had not anticipated it. As a rule fellows like me +anticipate everything in the world, except what is bound to occur in +the natural order of things; I sulked and put on the air of an injured +but magnanimous person; I tried to punish Liza by showing my +displeasure, from which one must conclude I was not yet completely +desperate after all. They do say that in some cases when one is really +loved, it's positively of use to torment the adored one; but in my +position it was indescribably stupid. Liza, in the most innocent way, +paid no attention to me. No one but Madame Ozhogin observed my solemn +taciturnity, and she inquired anxiously after my health. I replied, of +course, with a bitter smile, that I was thankful to say I was perfectly +well. Ozhogin continued to expatiate on the subject of their visitor; +but noticing that I responded reluctantly, he addressed himself +principally to Bizmyonkov, who was listening to him with great +attention, when a servant suddenly came in, announcing the arrival of +Prince N. Our host jumped up and ran to meet him; Liza, upon whom I at +once turned an eagle eye, flushed with delight, and made as though she +would move from her seat. The prince came in, all agreeable perfume, +gaiety, cordiality.... + +As I am not composing a romance for a gentle reader, but simply writing +for my own amusement, it stands to reason I need not make use of the +usual dodges of our respected authors. I will say straight out without +further delay that Liza fell passionately in love with the prince from +the first day she saw him, and the prince fell in love with her +too--partly from having nothing to do, and partly from a propensity for +turning women's heads, and also owing to the fact that Liza really was +a very charming creature. There was nothing to be wondered at in their +falling in love with each other. He had certainly never expected to +find such a pearl in such a wretched shell (I am alluding to the +God-forsaken town of O----), and she had never in her wildest dreams +seen anything in the least like this brilliant, clever, fascinating +aristocrat. + +After the first courtesies, Ozhogin introduced me to the prince, who +was very affable in his behaviour to me. He was as a rule very affable +with every one; and in spite of the immeasurable distance between him +and our obscure provincial circle, he was clever enough to avoid being +a source of constraint to any one, and even to make a show of being on +our level, and only living at Petersburg, as it were, by accident. + +That first evening.... Oh, that first evening! In our happy days of +childhood our teachers used to describe and set up before us as an +example the manly fortitude of the young Spartan, who, having stolen a +fox and hidden it under his tunic, without uttering one shriek let it +devour all his entrails, and so preferred death itself to disgrace.... +I can find no better comparison for my indescribable sufferings during +the evening on which I first saw the prince by Liza's side. My +continual forced smile and painful vigilance, my idiotic silence, my +miserable and ineffectual desire to get away--all that was doubtless +something truly remarkable in its own way. It was not one wild beast +alone gnawing at my vitals; jealousy, envy, the sense of my own +insignificance, and helpless hatred were torturing me. I could not but +admit that the prince really was a very agreeable young man.... I +devoured him with my eyes; I really believe I forgot to blink as usual, +as I stared at him. He talked not to Liza alone, but all he said was of +course really for her. He must have felt me a great bore. He most +likely guessed directly that it was a discarded lover he had to deal +with, but from sympathy for me, and also a profound sense of my +absolute harmlessness, he treated me with extraordinary gentleness. You +can fancy how this wounded me! In the course of the evening I tried, I +remember, to smooth over my mistake. I positively (don't laugh at me, +whoever you may be, who chance to look through these lines--especially +as it was my last illusion...) ... I, positively, in the midst of my +different sufferings, imagined all of a sudden that Liza wanted to +punish me for my haughty coldness at the beginning of my visit, that +she was angry with me and only flirting with the prince from pique.... +I seized my opportunity and with a meek but gracious smile, I went up +to her, and muttered--'Enough, forgive me, not that I'm afraid ...' and +suddenly, without awaiting her reply, I gave my features an +extraordinarily cheerful and free-and-easy expression, with a set grin, +passed my hand above my head in the direction of the ceiling (I wanted, +I remember, to set my cravat straight), and was even on the point of +pirouetting round on one foot, as though to say, 'All is over, I am +happy, let's all be happy,'--I did not, however, execute this +manoeuvre, as I was afraid of losing my balance, owing to an unnatural +stiffness in my knees.... Liza failed absolutely to understand me; she +looked in my face with amazement, gave a hasty smile, as though she +wanted to get rid of me as quickly as possible, and again approached +the prince. Blind and deaf as I was, I could not but be inwardly aware +that she was not in the least angry, and was not annoyed with me at +that instant: she simply never gave me a thought. The blow was a final +one. My last hopes were shattered with a crash, just as a block of ice, +thawed by the sunshine of spring, suddenly falls into tiny morsels. I +was utterly defeated at the first skirmish, and, like the Prussians at +Jena, lost everything at once in one day. No, she was not angry with +me!... + +Alas, it was quite the contrary! She too--I saw that--was being swept +off her feet by the torrent. Like a young tree, already half torn from +the bank, she bent eagerly over the stream, ready to abandon to it for +ever the first blossom of her spring and her whole life. A man whose +fate it has been to be the witness of such a passion, has lived through +bitter moments if he has loved himself and not been loved. I shall for +ever remember that devouring attention, that tender gaiety, that +innocent self-oblivion, that glance, still a child's and already a +woman's, that happy, as it were flowering smile that never left the +half-parted lips and glowing cheeks.... All that Liza had vaguely +foreshadowed during our walk in the wood had come to pass now--and she, +as she gave herself up utterly to love, was at once stiller and +brighter, like new wine, which ceases to ferment because its full +maturity has come.... + +I had the fortitude to sit through that first evening and the +subsequent evenings ... all to the end! I could have no hope of +anything. Liza and the prince became every day more devoted to each +other ... But I had absolutely lost all sense of personal dignity, and +could not tear myself away from the spectacle of my own misery. I +remember one day I tried not to go, swore to myself in the morning that +I would stay at home, and at eight o'clock in the evening (I usually +set off at seven) leaped up like a madman, put on my hat, and ran +breathless into Kirilla Matveitch's drawing-room. My position was +excessively absurd. I was obstinately silent; sometimes for whole days +together I did not utter a sound. I was, as I have said already, never +distinguished for eloquence; but now everything I had in my mind took +flight, as it were, in the presence of the prince, and I was left bare +and bereft. Besides, when I was alone, I set my wretched brain working +so hard, slowly going over everything I had noticed or surmised during +the preceding day, that when I went back to the Ozhogins' I scarcely +had energy left to observe again. They treated me considerately, as a +sick person; I saw that. Every morning I adopted some new, final +resolution, for the most part painfully hatched in the course of a +sleepless night. At one time I made up my mind to have it out with +Liza, to give her friendly advice ... but when I chanced to be alone +with her, my tongue suddenly ceased to work, froze as it were, and we +both, in great discomfort, waited for the entrance of some third +person. Another time I meant to run away, of course for ever, leaving +my beloved a letter full of reproaches, and I even one day began this +letter; but the sense of justice had not yet quite vanished in me. I +realised that I had no right to reproach any one for anything, and I +flung what I had written in the fire. Then I suddenly offered myself up +wholly as a sacrifice, gave Liza my benediction, praying for her +happiness, and smiled in meek and friendly fashion from my corner at +the prince. But the cruel-hearted lovers not only never thanked me for +my self-sacrifice, they never even noticed me, and were, apparently, +quite ready to dispense with my smiles and my blessings.... + +Then, in wrath, I suddenly flew into quite the opposite mood. I swore +to myself, wrapping my cloak about me like a Spaniard, to rush out from +some dark corner and stab my lucky rival, and with brutal glee I +imagined Liza's despair.... But, in the first place, such corners were +few in the town of O----; and, secondly--the wooden fence, the street +lamp, the policeman in the distance.... No! in such corners it was +somehow far more suitable to sell buns and oranges than to shed human +blood. I must own that, among other means of deliverance, as I very +vaguely expressed it in my colloquies with myself, I did entertain the +idea of having recourse to Ozhogin himself ... of calling the attention +of that nobleman to the perilous situation of his daughter, and the +mournful consequences of her indiscretion.... + +I even once began speaking to him on a certain delicate subject; but my +remarks were so indirect and misty, that after listening and listening +to me, he suddenly, as it were, waking up, rubbed his hand rapidly and +vigorously all over his face, not sparing his nose, gave a snort, and +walked away from me. It is needless to say that in resolving on this +step I persuaded myself that I was acting from the most disinterested +motives, was desirous of the general welfare, and was doing my duty as +a friend of the house.... But I venture to think that even had Kirilla +Matveitch not cut short my outpourings, I should in any case not have +had courage to finish my monologue. At times I set to work with all the +solemnity of some sage of antiquity, weighing the qualities of the +prince; at times I comforted myself with the hope that it was all of no +consequence, that Liza would recover her senses, that her love was not +real love ... oh, no! In short, I know no idea that I did not worry +myself with at that time. There was only one resource which never, I +candidly admit, entered my head: I never once thought of taking my +life. Why it did not occur to me I don't know.... Possibly, even then, +I had a presentiment I should not have long to live in any case. + +It will be readily understood that in such unfavourable circumstances +my manner, my behaviour with people, was more than ever marked by +unnaturalness and constraint. Even Madame Ozhogin--that creature +dull-witted from her birth up--began to shun me, and at times did not +know in what way to approach me. Bizmyonkov, always polite and ready to +do services, avoided me. I fancied even at that time that I had in him +a companion in misfortune--that he too loved Liza. But he never +responded to my hints, and altogether showed a reluctance to converse +with me. The prince behaved in a very friendly way to him; the prince, +one might say, respected him. Neither Bizmyonkov nor I was any obstacle +to the prince and Liza; but he did not shun them as I did, nor look +savage nor injured--and readily joined them when they desired it. It is +true that on such occasions he was not conspicuous for any special +mirthfulness; but his good-humour had always been somewhat subdued in +character. + +In this fashion about a fortnight passed by. The prince was not only +handsome and clever: he played the piano, sang, sketched fairly well, +and was a good hand at telling stories. His anecdotes, drawn from the +highest circles of Petersburg society, always made a great impression +on his audience, all the more so from the fact that he seemed to attach +no importance to them.... + +The consequence of this, if you like, simple accomplishment of the +prince's was that in the course of his not very protracted stay in the +town of O---- he completely fascinated all the neighbourhood. To +fascinate us poor dwellers in the steppes is at all times a very easy +task for any one coming from higher spheres. The prince's frequent +visits to the Ozhogins (he used to spend his evenings there) of course +aroused the jealousy of the other worthy gentry and officials of the +town. But the prince, like a clever person and a man of the world, +never neglected a single one of them; he called on all of them; to +every married lady and every unmarried miss he addressed at least one +flattering phrase, allowed them to feed him on elaborately solid +edibles, and to make him drink wretched wines with magnificent names; +and conducted himself, in short, like a model of caution and tact. +Prince N---- was in general a man of lively manners, sociable and +genial by inclination, and in this case incidentally from prudential +motives also; he could not fail to be a complete success in everything. + +Ever since his arrival, all in the house had felt that the time had +flown by with unusual rapidity; everything had gone off beautifully. +Papa Ozhogin, though he pretended that he noticed nothing, was +doubtless rubbing his hands in private at the idea of such a +son-in-law. The prince, for his part, managed matters with the utmost +sobriety and discretion, when, all of a sudden, an unexpected +incident.... + +Till to-morrow. To-day I'm tired. These recollections irritate me even +at the edge of the grave. Terentyevna noticed to-day that my nose has +already begun to grow sharp; and that, they say, is a bad sign. + + +_March 27. Thaw continuing._ + +Things were in the position described above: the prince and Liza were +in love with each other; the old Ozhogins were waiting to see what +would come of it; Bizmyonkov was present at the proceedings--there was +nothing else to be said of him. I was struggling like a fish on the +ice, and watching with all my might,--I remember that at that time I +set myself the task of preventing Liza at least from falling into the +snares of a seducer, and consequently began paying particular attention +to the maidservants and the fateful 'back stairs'--though, on the other +hand, I often spent whole nights in dreaming with what touching +magnanimity I would one day hold out a hand to the betrayed victim and +say to her, 'The traitor has deceived thee; but I am thy true friend +... let us forget the past and be happy!'--when sudden and glad +tidings overspread the whole town. The marshal of the district proposed +to give a great ball in honour of their respected guest, on his private +estate Gornostaevka. All the official world, big and little, of the +town of O---- received invitations, from the mayor down to the +apothecary, an excessively emaciated German, with ferocious pretensions +to a good Russian accent, which led him into continually and quite +inappropriately employing racy colloquialisms.... Tremendous +preparations were, of course, put in hand. One purveyor of cosmetics +sold sixteen dark-blue jars of pomatum, which bore the inscription _à +la jesmin_. The young ladies provided themselves with tight dresses, +agonising in the waist and jutting out sharply over the stomach; the +mammas put formidable erections on their heads by way of caps; the busy +papas were half dead with the bustle. The longed-for day arrived at +last. I was among those invited. From the town to Gornostaevka was +reckoned between seven and eight miles. Kirilla Matveitch offered me a +seat in his coach; but I refused.... In the same way children, who have +been punished, wishing to pay their parents out, refuse their favourite +dainties at table. Besides, I felt that my presence would be felt as a +constraint by Liza. Bizmyonkov took my place. The prince drove in his +own carriage, and I in a wretched little droshky, hired for an immense +sum for this solemn occasion. I am not going to describe that ball. +Everything about it was just as it always is. There was a band, with +trumpets extraordinarily out of tune, in the gallery; there were +country gentlemen, greatly flustered, with their inevitable families, +mauve ices, viscous lemonade; servants in boots trodden down at heel +and knitted cotton gloves; provincial lions with spasmodically +contorted faces, and so on and so on. And all this little world was +revolving round its sun--round the prince. Lost in the crowd, +unnoticed even by the young ladies of eight-and-forty, with red pimples +on their brows and blue flowers on the top of their heads, I stared +incessantly, first at the prince, then at Liza. She was very charmingly +dressed and very pretty that evening. They only twice danced together +(it is true, he danced the mazurka with her); but it seemed, to me at +least, that there was a sort of secret, continuous communication +between them. Even while not looking at her, while not speaking to her, +he was still, as it were, addressing her, and her alone. He was +handsome and brilliant and charming with other people--for her sake +only. She was apparently conscious that she was the queen of the ball, +and that she was loved. Her face at once beamed with childlike delight +and innocent pride, and was suddenly illuminated by another, deeper +feeling. Happiness radiated from her. I observed all this.... It was +not the first time I had watched them.... At first this wounded me +intensely; afterwards it, as it were, touched me; but, finally, it +infuriated me. I suddenly felt extraordinarily wrathful, and, I +remember, was extraordinarily delighted at this new sensation, and even +conceived a certain respect for myself. 'We'll show them we're not +crushed yet,' I said to myself. When the first inviting notes of the +mazurka sounded, I looked about me with composure, and with a cool and +easy air approached a long-faced young lady with a red and shiny nose, +a mouth that stood awkwardly open, as though it had come unbuttoned, +and a scraggy neck that recalled the handle of a bass-viol. I went up +to her, and, with a perfunctory scrape of my heels, invited her to the +dance. She was wearing a dress of faded rosebud pink, not full-blown +rose colour; on her head quivered a striped and dejected beetle of some +sort on a thick bronze pin; and altogether this lady was, if one may so +express it, soaked through and through with a sort of sour ennui and +inveterate lack of success. From the very commencement of the evening +she had not once stirred from her seat; no one had thought of asking +her to dance. One flaxen-headed youth of sixteen had, through lack of a +partner, been on the point of addressing this lady, and had taken a +step in her direction, but had thought better of it, stared at her, and +hurriedly dived into the crowd. You can fancy with what joyful +amazement she agreed to my proposal! I led her in triumph right across +the ballroom, picked out two chairs, and sat down with her in the ring +of the mazurka, among ten couples, almost opposite the prince, who had, +of course, been offered the first place. The prince, as I have said +already, was dancing with Liza. Neither I nor my partner was disturbed +by invitations; consequently, we had plenty of time for conversation. +To tell the truth, my partner was not conspicuous for her capacity for +the utterance of words in consecutive speech; she used her mouth +principally for the achievement of a strange downward smile such as I +had never till then beheld; while she raised her eyes upward, as though +some unseen force were pulling her face in two. But I did not feel her +lack of eloquence. Happily I felt full of wrath, and my partner did not +make me shy. I fell to finding fault with everything and every one in +the world, with especial emphasis on town-bred youngsters and +Petersburg dandies; and went to such lengths at last, that my partner +gradually ceased smiling, and instead of turning her eyes upward, began +suddenly--from astonishment, I suppose--to squint, and that so +strangely, as though she had for the first time observed the fact that +she had a nose on her face. And one of the lions, referred to above, +who was sitting next me, did not once take his eyes off me; he +positively turned to me with the expression of an actor on the stage, +who has waked up in an unfamiliar place, as though he would say, 'Is it +really you!' While I poured forth this tirade, I still, however, kept +watch on the prince and Liza. They were continually invited; but I +suffered less when they were both dancing; and even when they were +sitting side by side, and smiling as they talked to each other that +sweet smile which hardly leaves the faces of happy lovers, even then I +was not in such torture; but when Liza flitted across the room with +some desperate dandy of an hussar, while the prince with her blue gauze +scarf on his knees followed her dreamily with his eyes, as though +delighting in his conquest;--then, oh! then, I went through intolerable +agonies, and in my anger gave vent to such spiteful observations, that +the pupils of my partner's eyes simply fastened on her nose! + +Meanwhile the mazurka was drawing to a close. They were beginning the +figure called _la confidente_. In this figure the lady sits in the +middle of a circle, chooses another lady as her confidant, and whispers +in her ear the name of the gentleman with whom she wishes to dance. + +Her partner conducts one after another of the dancers to her; but the +lady, who is in the secret, refuses them, till at last the happy man +fixed on beforehand arrives. Liza sat in the middle of the circle and +chose the daughter of the host, one of those young ladies of whom one +says, 'God help them!'... The prince proceeded to discover her choice. +After presenting about a dozen young men to her in vain (the daughter +of the house refused them all with the most amiable of smiles), he at +last turned to me. + +Something extraordinary took place within me at that instant; I, as it +were, twitched all over, and would have refused, but got up and went +along. The prince conducted me to Liza.... She did not even look at me; +the daughter of the house shook her head in refusal, the prince turned +to me, and, probably incited by the goose-like expression of my face, +made me a deep bow. This sarcastic bow, this refusal, transmitted to me +through my triumphant rival, his careless smile, Liza's indifferent +inattention, all this lashed me to frenzy.... I moved up to the prince +and whispered furiously, 'You think fit to laugh at me, it seems?' + +The prince looked at me with contemptuous surprise, took my arm again, +and making a show of re-conducting me to my seat, answered coldly, 'I?' + +'Yes, you!' I went on in a whisper, obeying, however--that is to say, +following him to my place; 'you; but I do not intend to permit any +empty-headed Petersburg up-start----' + +The prince smiled tranquilly, almost condescendingly, pressed my arm, +whispered, 'I understand you; but this is not the place; we will have a +word later,' turned away from me, went up to Bizmyonkov, and led him up +to Liza. The pale little official turned out to be the chosen partner. +Liza got up to meet him. + +Sitting beside my partner with the dejected beetle on her head, I felt +almost a hero. My heart beat violently, my breast heaved gallantly +under my starched shirt front, I drew deep and hurried breaths, and +suddenly gave the local lion near me such a magnificent glare that +there was an involuntary quiver of his foot in my direction. Having +disposed of this person, I scanned the whole circle of dancers.... I +fancied two or three gentlemen were staring at me with some perplexity; +but, in general, my conversation with the prince had passed +unnoticed.... My rival was already back in his chair, perfectly +composed, and with the same smile on his face. Bizmyonkov led Liza back +to her place. She gave him a friendly bow, and at once turned to the +prince, as I fancied, with some alarm. But he laughed in response, with +a graceful wave of his hand, and must have said something very +agreeable to her, for she flushed with delight, dropped her eyes, and +then bent them with affectionate reproach upon him. + +The heroic frame of mind, which had suddenly developed in me, had not +disappeared by the end of the mazurka; but I did not indulge in any +more epigrams or 'quizzing.' I contented myself with glancing +occasionally with gloomy severity at my partner, who was obviously +beginning to be afraid of me, and was utterly tongue-tied and +continuously blinking by the time I placed her under the protection of +her mother, a very fat woman with a red cap on her head. Having +consigned the scared maiden lady to her natural belongings, I turned +away to a window, folded my arms, and began to await what would happen. +I had rather long to wait. The prince was the whole time surrounded by +his host--surrounded, simply, as England is surrounded by the sea,--to +say nothing of the other members of the marshal's family and the rest +of the guests. And besides, he could hardly go up to such an +insignificant person as me and begin to talk without arousing a general +feeling of surprise. This insignificance, I remember, was positively a +joy to me at the time. 'All right,' I thought, as I watched him +courteously addressing first one and then another highly respected +personage, honoured by his notice, if only for an 'instant's flash,' as +the poets say;--'all right, my dear ... you'll come to me soon--I've +insulted you, anyway.' At last the prince, adroitly escaping from the +throng of his adorers, passed close by me, looked somewhere between the +window and my hair, was turning away, and suddenly stood still, as +though he had recollected something. 'Ah, yes!' he said, turning to me +with a smile, 'by the way, I have a little matter to talk to you +about.' + +Two country gentlemen, of the most persistent, who were obstinately +pursuing the prince, probably imagined the 'little matter' to relate to +official business, and respectfully fell back. The prince took my arm +and led me apart. My heart was thumping at my ribs. + +'You, I believe,' he began, emphasising the word _you,_ and looking at +my chin with a contemptuous expression, which, strange to say, was +supremely becoming to his fresh and handsome face, 'you said something +abusive to me?' + +'I said what I thought,' I replied, raising my voice. + +'Sh ... quietly,' he observed; 'decent people don't bawl. You would +like, perhaps, to fight me?' + +'That's your affair,' I answered, drawing myself up. + +'I shall be obliged to challenge you,' he remarked carelessly, 'if you +don't withdraw your expressions....' + +'I do not intend to withdraw from anything,' I rejoined with pride. + +'Really?' he observed, with an ironical smile. + +'In that case,' he continued, after a brief pause, 'I shall have the +honour of sending my second to you to-morrow.' + +'Very good, 'I said in a voice, if possible, even more indifferent. + +The prince gave a slight bow. + +'I cannot prevent you from considering me empty-headed,' he added, with +a haughty droop of his eyelids; 'but the Princes N---- cannot be +upstarts. Good-bye till we meet, Mr.... Mr. Shtukaturin.' + +He quickly turned his back on me, and again approached his host, who +was already beginning to get excited. + +Mr. Shtukaturin!... My name is Tchulkaturin.... I could think of +nothing to say to him in reply to this last insult, and could only gaze +after him with fury. 'Till to-morrow,' I muttered, clenching my teeth, +and I at once looked for an officer of my acquaintance, a cavalry +captain in the Uhlans, called Koloberdyaev, a desperate rake, and a +very good fellow. To him I related, in few words, my quarrel with the +prince, and asked him to be my second. He, of course, promptly +consented, and I went home. + +I could not sleep all night--from excitement, not from cowardice. I am +not a coward. I positively thought very little of the possibility +confronting me of losing my life--that, as the Germans assure us, +highest good on earth. I could think only of Liza, of my ruined hopes, +of what I ought to do. 'Ought I to try to kill the prince?' I asked +myself; and, of course, I wanted to kill him--not from revenge, but +from a desire for Liza's good. 'But she will not survive such a blow,' +I went on. 'No, better let him kill me!' I must own it was an agreeable +reflection, too, that I, an obscure provincial person, had forced a man +of such consequence to fight a duel with me. + +The morning light found me still absorbed in these reflections; and, +not long after it, appeared Koloberdyaev. + +'Well,' he asked me, entering my room with a clatter, 'where's the +prince's second?' 'Upon my word,' I answered with annoyance, 'it's +seven o'clock at the most; the prince is still asleep, I should +imagine.' 'In that case,' replied the cavalry officer, in nowise +daunted, 'order some tea for me. My head aches from yesterday +evening.... I've not taken my clothes off all night. Though, indeed,' +he added with a yawn, 'I don't as a rule often take my clothes off.' + +Some tea was given him. He drank off six glasses of tea and rum, smoked +four pipes, told me he had on the previous day bought, for next to +nothing, a horse the coachman refused to drive, and that he was meaning +to drive her out with one of her fore legs tied up, and fell asleep, +without undressing, on the sofa, with a pipe in his mouth. I got up and +put my papers to rights. One note of invitation from Liza, the one note +I had received from her, I was on the point of putting in my bosom, but +on second thoughts I flung it in a drawer. Koloberdyaev was snoring +feebly, with his head hanging from the leather pillow.... For a long +while, I remember, I scrutinised his unkempt, daring, careless, and +good-natured face. At ten o'clock the man announced the arrival of +Bizmyonkov. The prince had chosen him as second. + +We both together roused the soundly sleeping cavalry officer. He sat +up, stared at us with dim eyes, in a hoarse voice demanded vodka. He +recovered himself, and exchanging greetings with Bizmyonkov, he went +with him into the next room to arrange matters. The consultation of the +worthy seconds did not last long. A quarter of an hour later, they both +came into my bedroom. Koloberdyaev announced to me that 'we're going to +fight to-day at three o'clock with pistols.' In silence I bent my head, +in token of my agreement. Bizmyonkov at once took leave of us, and +departed. He was rather pale and inwardly agitated, like a man unused +to such jobs, but he was, nevertheless, very polite and chilly. I felt, +as it were, conscience-stricken in his presence, and did not dare look +him in the face. Koloberdyaev began telling me about his horse. This +conversation was very welcome to me. I was afraid he would mention +Liza. But the good-natured cavalry officer was not a gossip, and, +moreover, he despised all women, calling them, God knows why, green +stuff. At two o'clock we had lunch, and at three we were at the place +fixed upon--the very birch copse in which I had once walked with Liza, +a couple of yards from the precipice. + +We arrived first; but the prince and Bizmyonkov did not keep us long +waiting. The prince was, without exaggeration, as fresh as a rose; his +brown eyes looked out with excessive cordiality from under the peak of +his cap. He was smoking a cigar, and on seeing Koloberdyaev shook his +hand in a friendly way. + +Even to me he bowed very genially. I was conscious, on the contrary, of +being pale, and my hands, to my terrible vexation, were slightly +trembling ... my throat was parched.... I had never fought a duel +before. 'O God!' I thought; 'if only that ironical gentleman doesn't +take my agitation for timidity!' I was inwardly cursing my nerves; but +glancing, at last, straight in the prince's face, and catching on his +lips an almost imperceptible smile, I suddenly felt furious again, and +was at once at my ease. Meanwhile, our seconds were fixing the barrier, +measuring out the paces, loading the pistols. Koloberdyaev did most; +Bizmyonkov rather watched him. It was a magnificent day--as fine as the +day of that ever-memorable walk. The thick blue of the sky peeped, as +then, through the golden green of the leaves. Their lisping seemed to +mock me. The prince went on smoking his cigar, leaning with his +shoulder against the trunk of a young lime-tree.... + +'Kindly take your places, gentlemen; ready,' Koloberdyaev pronounced at +last, handing us pistols. + +The prince walked a few steps away, stood still, and, turning his head, +asked me over his shoulder, 'You still refuse to take back your words, +then?' + +I tried to answer him; but my voice failed me, and I had to content +myself with a contemptuous wave of the hand. The prince smiled again, +and took up his position in his place. We began to approach one +another. I raised my pistol, was about to aim at my enemy's chest--but +suddenly tilted it up, as though some one had given my elbow a shove, +and fired. The prince tottered, and put his left hand to his left +temple--a thread of blood was flowing down his cheek from under the +white leather glove, Bizmyonkov rushed up to him. + +'It's all right,' he said, taking off his cap, which the bullet had +pierced; 'since it's in the head, and I've not fallen, it must be a +mere scratch.' + +He calmly pulled a cambric handkerchief out of his pocket, and put it +to his blood-stained curls. + +I stared at him, as though I were turned to stone, and did not stir. + +'Go up to the barrier, if you please!' Koloberdyaev observed severely. + +I obeyed. + +'Is the duel to go on?' he added, addressing Bizmyonkov. + +Bizmyonkov made him no answer. But the prince, without taking the +handkerchief from the wound, without even giving himself the +satisfaction of tormenting me at the barrier, replied with a smile. +'The duel is at an end,' and fired into the air. I was almost crying +with rage and vexation. This man by his magnanimity had utterly +trampled me in the mud; he had completely crushed me. I was on the +point of making objections, on the point of demanding that he should +fire at me. But he came up to me, and held out his hand. + +'It's all forgotten between us, isn't it?' he said in a friendly voice. + +I looked at his blanched face, at the blood-stained handkerchief, and +utterly confounded, put to shame, and annihilated, I pressed his hand. + +'Gentlemen!' he added, turning to the seconds, 'everything, I hope, +will be kept secret?' + +'Of course!' cried Koloberdyaev; 'but, prince, allow me ...' + +And he himself bound up his head. + +The prince, as he went away, bowed to me once more. But Bizmyonkov did +not even glance at me. Shattered--morally shattered--went homewards +with Koloberdyaev. + +'Why, what's the matter with you?' the cavalry captain asked me. 'Set +your mind at rest; the wound's not serious. He'll be able to dance by +to-morrow, if you like. Or are you sorry you didn't kill him? You're +wrong, if you are; he's a first-rate fellow.' + +'What business had he to spare me!' I muttered at last. + +'Oh, so that's it!' the cavalry captain rejoined tranquilly... 'Ugh, +you writing fellows are too much for me!' + +I don't know what put it into his head to consider me an author. + +I absolutely decline to describe my torments during the evening +following upon that luckless duel. My vanity suffered indescribably. It +was not my conscience that tortured me; the consciousness of my +imbecility crushed me. 'I have given myself the last decisive blow by +my own act!' I kept repeating, as I strode up and down my room. 'The +prince, wounded by me, and forgiving me... Yes, Liza is now his. Now +nothing can save her, nothing can hold her back on the edge of the +abyss.' I knew very well that our duel could not be kept secret, in +spite of the prince's words; in any case, it could not remain a secret +for Liza. + +'The prince is not such a fool,' I murmured in a frenzy of rage, 'as +not to profit by it.'... But, meanwhile, I was mistaken. The whole town +knew of the duel and of its real cause next day, of course. But the +prince had not blabbed of it; on the contrary, when, with his head +bandaged and an explanation ready, he made his appearance before Liza, +she had already heard everything.... Whether Bizmyonkov had betrayed +me, or the news had reached her by other channels, I cannot say. +Though, indeed, can anything ever be concealed in a little town? You +can fancy how Liza received him, how all the family of the Ozhogins +received him! As for me, I suddenly became an object of universal +indignation and loathing, a monster, a jealous bloodthirsty madman. My +few acquaintances shunned me as if I were a leper. The authorities of +the town promptly addressed the prince, with a proposal to punish me in +a severe and befitting manner. Nothing but the persistent and urgent +entreaties of the prince himself averted the calamity that menaced me. +That man was fated to annihilate me in every way. By his generosity he +had shut, as it were, a coffin-lid down upon me. It's needless to say +that the Ozhogins' doors were at once closed against me. Kirilla +Matveitch even sent me back a bit of pencil I had left in his house. In +reality, he, of all people, had no reason to be angry with me. My +'insane' (that was the expression current in the town) jealousy had +pointed out, defined, so to speak, the relations of the prince to Liza. +Both the old Ozhogins themselves and their fellow-citizens began to +look on him almost as betrothed to her. This could not, as a fact, have +been quite to his liking. But he was greatly attracted by Liza; and +meanwhile, he had not at that time attained his aims. With all the +adroitness of a clever man of the world, he took advantage of his new +position, and promptly entered, as they say, into the spirit of his new +part.... + +But I!... For myself, for my future, I renounced all hopes, at that +time. When suffering reaches the point of making our whole being creak +and groan, like an overloaded cart, it ought to cease to be ridiculous +... but no! laughter not only accompanies tears to the end, to +exhaustion, to the impossibility of shedding more--it even rings and +echoes, where the tongue is dumb, and complaint itself is dead.... And +so, as in the first place I don't intend to expose myself as ridiculous, +even to myself, and secondly as I am fearfully tired, I will put off the +continuation, and please God the conclusion, of my story till +tomorrow.... + + +_March 29. + +A slight frost; yesterday it was thawing._ + +Yesterday I had not the strength to go on with my diary; like +Poprishtchin, I lay, for the most part, on my bed, and talked to +Terentyevna. What a woman! Sixty years ago she lost her first betrothed +from the plague, she has outlived all her children, she is inexcusably +old, drinks tea to her heart's desire, is well fed, and warmly clothed; +and what do you suppose she was talking to me about, all day yesterday? +I had sent another utterly destitute old woman the collar of an old +livery, half moth-eaten, to put on her vest (she wears strips over the +chest by way of vest) ... and why wasn't it given to her? 'But I'm your +nurse; I should think... Oh ... oh, my good sir, it's too bad of you +... after I've looked after you as I have!' ... and so on. The +merciless old woman utterly wore me out with her reproaches.... But to +get back to my story. + +And so, I suffered like a dog, whose hindquarters have been run over by +a wheel. It was only then, only after my banishment from the Ozhogins' +house, that I fully realised how much happiness a man can extract from +the contemplation of his own unhappiness. O men! pitiful race, indeed! + +... But, away with philosophical reflections.... I spent my days in +complete solitude, and could only by the most roundabout and even +humiliating methods find out what was passing in the Ozhogins' +household, and what the prince was doing. My man had made friends with +the cousin of the latter's coachman's wife. This acquaintance afforded +me some slight relief, and my man soon guessed, from my hints and +little presents, what he was to talk about to his master when he pulled +his boots off every evening. Sometimes I chanced to meet some one of +the Ozhogins' family, Bizmyonkov, or the prince in the street.... To +the prince and to Bizmyonkov I bowed, but I did not enter into +conversation with them. Liza I only saw three times: once, with her +mamma, in a fashionable shop; once, in an open carriage with her father +and mother and the prince; and once, in church. Of course, I was not +impudent enough to approach her, and only watched her from a distance. +In the shop she was very much preoccupied, but cheerful.... She was +ordering something for herself, and busily matching ribbons. Her mother +was gazing at her, with her hands folded on her lap, and her nose in +the air, smiling with that foolish and devoted smile which is only +permissible in adoring mothers. In the carriage with the prince, Liza +was ... I shall never forget that meeting! The old people were sitting +in the back seats of the carriage, the prince and Liza in the front. +She was paler than usual; on her cheek two patches of pink could just +be seen. She was half facing the prince; leaning on her straight right +arm (in the left hand she was holding a sunshade), with her little head +drooping languidly, she was looking straight into his face with her +expressive eyes. At that instant she surrendered herself utterly to +him, intrusted herself to him for ever. I had not time to get a good +look at his face--the carriage galloped by too quickly,--but I fancied +that he too was deeply touched. + +The third time I saw her in church. Not more than ten days had passed +since the day when I met her in the carriage with the prince, not more +than three weeks since the day of my duel. The business upon which the +prince had come to O---- was by now completed. But he still kept +putting off his departure. At Petersburg, he was reported to be ill. In +the town, it was expected every day that he would make a proposal in +form to Kirilla Matveitch. I was myself only awaiting this final blow +to go away for ever. The town of O---- had grown hateful to me. I could +not stay indoors, and wandered from morning to night about the suburbs. +One grey, gloomy day, as I was coming back from a walk, which had been +cut short by the rain, I went into a church. The evening service had +only just begun, there were very few people; I looked round me, and +suddenly, near a window, caught sight of a familiar profile. For the +first instant, I did not recognise it: that pale face, that spiritless +glance, those sunken cheeks--could it be the same Liza I had seen a +fortnight before? Wrapped in a cloak, without a hat on, with the cold +light from the broad white window falling on her from one side, she was +gazing fixedly at the holy image, and seemed striving to pray, striving +to awake from a sort of listless stupor. A red-cheeked, fat little page +with yellow trimmings on his chest was standing behind her, and, with +his hands clasped behind his back, stared in sleepy bewilderment at his +mistress. I trembled all over, was about to go up to her, but stopped +short. I felt choked by a torturing presentiment. Till the very end of +the evening service, Liza did not stir. All the people went out, a +beadle began sweeping out the church, but still she did not move from +her place. The page went up to her, said something to her, touched her +dress; she looked round, passed her hand over her face, and went away. +I followed her home at a little distance, and then returned to my +lodging. + +'She is lost!' I cried, when I had got into my room. + +As a man, I don't know to this day what my sensations were at that +moment. I flung myself, I remember, with clasped hands, on the sofa and +fixed my eyes on the floor. But I don't know--in the midst of my woe I +was, as it were, pleased at something.... I would not admit this for +anything in the world, if I were not writing only for myself.... I had +been tormented, certainly, by terrible, harassing suspicions ... and +who knows, I should, perhaps, have been greatly disconcerted if they +had not been fulfilled. 'Such is the heart of man!' some middle-aged +Russian teacher would exclaim at this point in an expressive voice, +while he raises a fat forefinger, adorned with a cornelian ring. But +what have we to do with the opinion of a Russian teacher, with an +expressive voice and a cornelian on his finger? + +Be that as it may, my presentiment turned out to be well founded. +Suddenly the news was all over the town that the prince had gone away, +presumably in consequence of a summons from Petersburg; that he had +gone away without making any proposal to Kirilla Matveitch or his wife, +and that Liza would have to deplore his treachery till the end of her +days. The prince's departure was utterly unexpected, for only the +evening before his coachman, so my man assured me, had not the +slightest suspicion of his master's intentions. This piece of news +threw me into a perfect fever. I at once dressed, and was on the point +of hastening to the Ozhogins', but on thinking the matter over I +considered it more seemly to wait till the next day. I lost nothing, +however, by remaining at home. The same evening, there came to see me +in all haste a certain Pandopipopulo, a wandering Greek, stranded by +some chance in the town of O----, a scandalmonger of the first +magnitude, who had been more indignant with me than any one for my duel +with the prince. He did not even give my man time to announce him; he +fairly burst into my room, warmly pressed my hand, begged my pardon a +thousand times, called me a paragon of magnanimity and courage, painted +the prince in the darkest colours, censured the old Ozhogins, who, in +his opinion, had been punished as they deserved, made a slighting +reference to Liza in passing, and hurried off again, kissing me on my +shoulder. Among other things, I learned from him that the prince, _en +vrai grand seigneur_, on the eve of his departure, in response to a +delicate hint from Kirilla Matveitch, had answered coldly that he had +no intention of deceiving any one, and no idea of marrying, had risen, +made his bow, and that was all.... Next day I set off to the Ozhogins'. +The shortsighted footman leaped up from his bench on my appearance, +with the rapidity of lightning. I bade him announce me; the footman +hurried away and returned at once. 'Walk in,' he said; 'you are begged +to go in.' I went into Kirilla Matveitch's study.... The rest +to-morrow. + + +_March 30. Frost._ + +And so I went into Kirilla Matveitch's study. I would pay any one +handsomely, who could show me now my own face at the moment when that +highly respected official, hurriedly flinging together his +dressing-gown, approached me with outstretched arms. I must have been a +perfect picture of modest triumph, indulgent sympathy, and boundless +magnanimity.... I felt myself something in the style of Scipio +Africanus. Ozhogin was visibly confused and cast down, he avoided my +eyes, and kept fidgeting about. I noticed, too, that he spoke +unnaturally loudly, and in general expressed himself very vaguely. +Vaguely, but with warmth, he begged my forgiveness, vaguely alluded to +their departed guest, added a few vague generalities about deception +and the instability of earthly blessings, and, suddenly feeling the +tears in his eyes, hastened to take a pinch of snuff, probably in order +to deceive me as to the cause of his tearfulness.... He used the +Russian green snuff, and it's well known that that article forces even +old men to shed tears that make the human eye look dull and senseless +for several minutes. + +I behaved, of course, very cautiously with the old man, inquired after +the health of his wife and daughter, and at once artfully turned the +conversation on to the interesting subject of the rotation of crops. I +was dressed as usual, but the feeling of gentle propriety and soft +indulgence which filled me gave me a fresh and festive sensation, as +though I had on a white waistcoat and a white cravat. One thing +agitated me, the thought of seeing Liza.... Ozhogin, at last, proposed +of his own accord to take me up to his wife. The kind-hearted but +foolish woman was at first terribly embarrassed on seeing me; but her +brain was not capable of retaining the same impression for long, and so +she was soon at her ease. At last I saw Liza ... she came into the +room.... + +I had expected to find in her a shamed and penitent sinner, and had +assumed beforehand the most affectionate and reassuring expression of +face.... Why lie about it? I really loved her and was thirsting for the +happiness of forgiving her, of holding out a hand to her; but to my +unutterable astonishment, in response to my significant bow, she +laughed coldly, observed carelessly, 'Oh, is that you?' and at once +turned away from me. It is true that her laugh struck me as forced, and +in any case did not accord well with her terribly thin face ... but, +all the same, I had not expected such a reception.... I looked at her +with amazement ... what a change had taken place in her! Between the +child she had been and the woman before me, there was nothing in +common. She had, as it were, grown up, straightened out; all the +features of her face, especially her lips, seemed defined ... her gaze +had grown deeper, harder, and gloomier. I stayed on at the Ozhogins' +till dinner-time. She got up, went out of the room, and came back +again, answered questions with composure, and designedly took no notice +of me. She wanted, I saw, to make me feel that I was not worth her +anger, though I had been within an ace of killing her lover. I lost +patience at last; a malicious allusion broke from my lips.... She +started, glanced swiftly at me, got up, and going to the window, +pronounced in a rather shaky voice, 'You can say anything you like, but +let me tell you that I love that man, and always shall love him, and do +not consider that he has done me any injury, quite the contrary.'... +Her voice broke, she stopped ... tried to control herself, but could +not, burst into tears, and went out of the room.... The old people were +much upset.... I pressed the hands of both, sighed, turned my eyes +heavenward, and withdrew. + +I am too weak, I have too little time left, I am not capable of +describing in the same detail the new range of torturing reflections, +firm resolutions, and all the other fruits of what is called inward +conflict, that arose within me after the renewal of my acquaintance +with the Ozhogins. I did not doubt that Liza still loved, and would +long love, the prince ... but as one reconciled to the inevitable, and +anxious myself to conciliate, I did not even dream of her love. I +desired only her affection, I desired to gain her confidence, her +respect, which, we are assured by persons of experience, forms the +surest basis for happiness in marriage.... Unluckily, I lost sight of +one rather important circumstance, which was that Liza had hated me +ever since the day of the duel. I found this out too late. I began, as +before, to be a frequent visitor at the house of the Ozhogins. Kirilla +Matveitch received me with more effusiveness and affability than he had +ever done. I have even ground for believing that he would at that time +have cheerfully given me his daughter, though I was certainly not a +match to be coveted. Public opinion was very severe upon him and Liza, +while, on the other hand, it extolled me to the skies. Liza's attitude +to me was unchanged. She was, for the most part, silent; obeyed, when +they begged her to eat, showed no outward signs of sorrow, but, for all +that, was wasting away like a candle. I must do Kirilla Matveitch the +justice to say that he spared her in every way. Old Madame Ozhogin only +ruffled up her feathers like a hen, as she looked at her poor nestling. +There was only one person Liza did not shun, though she did not talk +much even to him, and that was Bizmyonkov. The old people were rather +short, not to say rude, in their behaviour to him. They could not +forgive him for having been second in the duel. But he went on going to +see them, as though he did not notice their unamiability. With me he +was very chilly, and--strange to say--I felt, as it were, afraid of +him. This state of things went on for a fortnight. At last, after a +sleepless night, I resolved to have it out with Liza, to open my heart +to her, to tell her that, in spite of the past, in spite of all +possible gossip and scandal, I should consider myself only too happy if +she would give me her hand, and restore me her confidence. I really did +seriously imagine that I was showing what they call in the school +reading-books an unparalleled example of magnanimity, and that, from +sheer amazement alone, she would consent. In any case, I resolved to +have an explanation and to escape, at last, from suspense. + +Behind the Ozhogins' house was a rather large garden, which ended in a +little grove of lime-trees, neglected and overgrown. In the middle of +this thicket stood an old summer-house in the Chinese style: a wooden +paling separated the garden from a blind alley. Liza would sometimes +walk, for hours together, alone in this garden. Kirilla Matveitch was +aware of this, and forbade her being disturbed or followed; let her +grief wear itself out, he said. When she could not be found indoors, +they had only to ring a bell on the steps at dinner-time and she made +her appearance at once, with the same stubborn silence on her lips and +in her eyes, and some little leaf crushed up in her hand. So, noticing +one day that she was not in the house, I made a show of going away, +took leave of Kirilla Matveitch, put on my hat, and went out from the +hall into the courtyard, and from the courtyard into the street, but +promptly darted in at the gate again with extraordinary rapidity and +hurried past the kitchen into the garden. Luckily no one noticed me. +Without losing time in deliberation, I went with rapid steps into the +grove. In a little path before me was standing Liza. My heart beat +violently. I stood still, drew a deep sigh, and was just on the point +of going up to her, when suddenly she lifted her hand without turning +round, and began listening.... From behind the trees, in the direction +of the blind alley, came a distinct sound of two knocks, as though some +one were tapping at the paling. Liza clapped her hands together, there +was heard the faint creak of the gate, and out of the thicket stepped +Bizmyonkov. I hastily hid behind a tree. Liza turned towards him +without speaking.... Without speaking, he drew her arm in his, and the +two walked slowly along the path together. I looked after them in +amazement. They stopped, looked round, disappeared behind the bushes, +reappeared again, and finally went into the summer-house. This +summer-house was a diminutive round edifice, with a door and one little +window. In the middle stood an old one-legged table, overgrown with +fine green moss; two discoloured deal benches stood along the sides, +some distance from the damp and darkened walls. Here, on exceptionally +hot days, in bygone times, perhaps once a year or so, they had drunk +tea. The door did not quite shut, the window-frame had long ago come +out of the window, and hung disconsolately, only attached at one +corner, like a bird's broken wing. I stole up to the summer-house, and +peeped cautiously through the chink in the window. Liza was sitting on +one of the benches, with her head drooping. Her right hand lay on her +knees, the left Bizmyonkov was holding in both his hands. He was +looking sympathetically at her. + +'How do you feel to-day?' he asked her in a low voice. + +'Just the same,' she answered, 'not better, nor worse.--The emptiness, +the fearful emptiness!' she added, raising her eyes dejectedly. + +Bizmyonkov made her no answer. + +'What do you think,' she went on: 'will he write to me once more?' + +'I don't think so, Lizaveta Kirillovna!' + +She was silent. + +'And after all, why should he write? He told me everything in his first +letter. I could not be his wife; but I have been happy ... not for long +... I have been happy ...' + +Bizmyonkov looked down. + +'Ah,' she went on quickly, 'if you knew how I loathe that Tchulkaturin +... I always fancy I see on that man's hands ... his blood.' (I +shuddered behind my chink.) 'Though indeed,' she added, dreamily, 'who +knows, perhaps, if it had not been for that duel.... Ah, when I saw him +wounded I felt at once that I was altogether his.' + +'Tchulkaturin loves you,' observed Bizmyonkov. + +'What is that to me? I don't want any one's love.'... She stopped and +added slowly, 'Except yours. Yes, my friend, your love is necessary to +me; except for you, I should be lost. You have helped me to bear +terrible moments ...' + +She broke off ... Bizmyonkov began with fatherly tenderness stroking +her hand. + +'There's no help for it! What is one to do! what is one to do, Lizaveta +Kirillovna!' he repeated several times. + +'And now indeed,' she went on in a lifeless voice, 'I should die, I +think, if it were not for you. It's you alone that keep me up; besides, +you remind me of him.... You knew all about it, you see. Do you +remember how fine he was that day.... But forgive me; it must be hard +for you....' + +'Go on, go on! Nonsense! Bless you!' Bizmyonkov interrupted her. + +She pressed his hand. + +'You are very good, Bizmyonkov,' she went on;' you are good as an +angel. What can I do! I feel I shall love him to the grave. I have +forgiven him, I am grateful to him. God give him happiness! May God +give him a wife after his own heart'--and her eyes filled with +tears--'if only he does not forget me, if only he will sometimes think +of his Liza!--Let us go,' she added, after a brief silence. + +Bizmyonkov raised her hand to his lips. + +'I know,' she began again hotly, 'every one is blaming me now, every +one is throwing stones at me. Let them! I wouldn't, any way, change my +misery for their happiness ... no! no!... He did not love me for long, +but he loved me! He never deceived me, he never told me I should be his +wife; I never dreamed of it myself. It was only poor papa hoped for it. +And even now I am not altogether unhappy; the memory remains to me, and +however fearful the results ... I'm stifling here ... it was here I saw +him the last time.... Let's go into the air.' + +They got up. I had only just time to skip on one side and hide behind a +thick lime-tree. They came out of the summer-house, and, as far as I +could judge by the sound of their steps, went away into the thicket. I +don't know how long I went on standing there, without stirring from my +place, plunged in a sort of senseless amazement, when suddenly I heard +steps again. I started, and peeped cautiously out from my hiding-place. +Bizmyonkov and Liza were coming back along the same path. Both were +greatly agitated, especially Bizmyonkov. + +I fancied he was crying. Liza stopped, looked at him, and distinctly +uttered the following words: 'I do consent, Bizmyonkov. I would never +have agreed if you were only trying to save me, to rescue me from a +terrible position, but you love me, you know everything--and you love +me. I shall never find a trustier, truer friend. I will be your wife.' + +Bizmyonkov kissed her hand: she smiled at him mournfully and moved away +towards the house. Bizmyonkov rushed into the thicket, and I went my +way. Seeing that Bizmyonkov had apparently said to Liza precisely what +I had intended to say to her, and she had given him precisely the reply +I was longing to hear from her, there was no need for me to trouble +myself further. Within a fortnight she was married to him. The old +Ozhogins were thankful to get any husband for her. + +Now, tell me, am I not a superfluous man? Didn't I play throughout the +whole story the part of a superfluous person? The prince's part ... of +that it's needless to speak; Bizmyonkov's part, too, is +comprehensible.... But I--with what object was I mixed up in it?... A +senseless fifth wheel to the cart!... Ah, it's bitter, bitter for +me!... But there, as the barge-haulers say, 'One more pull, and one +more yet,'--one day more, and one more yet, and there will be no more +bitter nor sweet for me. + + +_March 31_. + +I'm in a bad way. I am writing these lines in bed. Since yesterday +evening there has been a sudden change in the weather. To-day is hot, +almost a summer day. Everything is thawing, breaking up, flowing away. +The air is full of the smell of the opened earth, a strong, heavy, +stifling smell. Steam is rising on all sides. The sun seems beating, +seems smiting everything to pieces. I am very ill, I feel that I am +breaking up. + +I meant to write my diary, and, instead of that, what have I done? I +have related one incident of my life. I gossiped on, slumbering +reminiscences were awakened and drew me away. I have written, without +haste, in detail, as though I had years before me. And here now, +there's no time to go on. Death, death is coming. I can hear her +menacing _crescendo_. The time is come ... the time is come!... + +And indeed, what does it matter? Isn't it all the same whatever I +write? In sight of death the last earthly cares vanish. I feel I have +grown calm; I am becoming simpler, clearer. Too late I've gained +sense!... It's a strange thing! I have grown calm--certainly, and at +the same time ... I'm full of dread. Yes, I'm full of dread. Half +hanging over the silent, yawning abyss, I shudder, turn away, with +greedy intentness gaze at everything about me. Every object is doubly +precious to me. I cannot gaze enough at my poor, cheerless room, saying +farewell to each spot on my walls. Take your fill for the last time, my +eyes. Life is retreating; slowly and smoothly she is flying away from +me, as the shore flies from the eyes of one at sea. The old yellow face +of my nurse, tied up in a dark kerchief, the hissing samovar on the +table, the pot of geranium in the window, and you, my poor dog, Tresór, +the pen I write these lines with, my own hand, I see you now ... here +you are, here.... Is it possible ... can it be, to-day ... I shall +never see you again! It's hard for a live creature to part with life! +Why do you fawn on me, poor dog? why do you come putting your forepaws +on the bed, with your stump of a tail wagging so violently, and your +kind, mournful eyes fixed on me all the while? Are you sorry for me? or +do you feel already that your master will soon be gone? Ah, if I could +only keep my thoughts, too, resting on all the objects in my room! I +know these reminiscences are dismal and of no importance, but I have no +other. 'The emptiness, the fearful emptiness!' as Liza said. + +O my God, my God! Here I am dying.... A heart capable of loving and +ready to love will soon cease to beat.... And can it be it will be +still for ever without having once known happiness, without having once +expanded under the sweet burden of bliss? Alas! it's impossible, +impossible, I know.... If only now, at least, before death--for death +after all is a sacred thing, after all it elevates any being--if any +kind, sad, friendly voice would sing over me a farewell song of my own +sorrow, I could, perhaps, be resigned to it. But to die stupidly, +stupidly.... + +I believe I'm beginning to rave. + +Farewell, life! farewell, my garden! and you, my lime-trees! When the +summer comes, do not forget to be clothed with flowers from head to +foot ... and may it be sweet for people to lie in your fragrant shade, +on the fresh grass, among the whispering chatter of your leaves, +lightly stirred by the wind. Farewell, farewell! Farewell, everything +and for ever! + +Farewell, Liza! I wrote those two words, and almost laughed aloud. This +exclamation strikes me as taken out of a book. It's as though I were +writing a sentimental novel and ending up a despairing letter.... + +To-morrow is the first of April. Can I be going to die to-morrow? That +would be really too unseemly. It's just right for me, though ... + +How the doctor did chatter to-day. + + +_April_ 1. + +It is over.... Life is over. I shall certainly die to-day. It's hot +outside ... almost suffocating ... or is it that my lungs are already +refusing to breathe? My little comedy is played out. The curtain is +falling. + +Sinking into nothing, I cease to be superfluous ... + +Ah, how brilliant that sun is! Those mighty beams breathe of eternity ... + +Farewell, Terentyevna!... This morning as she sat at the window she was +crying ... perhaps over me ... and perhaps because she too will soon +have to die. I have made her promise not to kill Tresór. + +It's hard for me to write.... I will put down the pen.... It's high +time; death is already approaching with ever-increasing rumble, like a +carriage at night over the pavement; it is here, it is flitting about +me, like the light breath which made the prophet's hair stand up on +end. + +I am dying.... Live, you who are living, + + 'And about the grave + May youthful life rejoice, + And nature heedless + Glow with eternal beauty. + +_Note by the Editor_.--Under this last line was a head in profile with +a big streak of hair and moustaches, with eyes _en face_, and eyelashes +like rays; and under the head some one had written the following words: + + 'This manuscript was read + And the Contents of it Not Approved + By Peter Zudotyeshin + My My My + My dear Sir, + Peter Zudotyeshin, + Dear Sir.' + +But as the handwriting of these lines was not in the least like the +handwriting in which the other part of the manuscript was written, the +editor considers that he is justified in concluding that the above +lines were added subsequently by another person, especially since it +has come to his (the editor's) knowledge that Mr. Tchulkaturin actually +did die on the night between the 1st and 2nd of April in the year 18--, +at his native place, Sheep's Springs. + + + * * * * * + + +A TOUR IN THE FOREST + + + + + +FIRST DAY + + +The sight of the vast pinewood, embracing the whole horizon, the sight +of the 'Forest,' recalls the sight of the ocean. And the sensations it +arouses are the same; the same primaeval untouched force lies +outstretched in its breadth and majesty before the eyes of the +spectator. From the heart of the eternal forest, from the undying bosom +of the waters, comes the same voice: 'I have nothing to do with +thee,'--nature says to man, 'I reign supreme, while do thou bestir +thyself to thy utmost to escape dying.' But the forest is gloomier and +more monotonous than the sea, especially the pine forest, which is +always alike and almost soundless. The ocean menaces and caresses, it +frolics with every colour, speaks with every voice; it reflects the +sky, from which too comes the breath of eternity, but an eternity as it +were not so remote from us.... The dark, unchanging pine-forest keeps +sullen silence or is filled with a dull roar--and at the sight of it +sinks into man's heart more deeply, more irresistibly, the sense of his +own nothingness. It is hard for man, the creature of a day, born +yesterday, and doomed to death on the morrow, it is hard for him to +bear the cold gaze of the eternal Isis, fixed without sympathy upon +him: not only the daring hopes and dreams of youth are humbled and +quenched within him, enfolded by the icy breath of the elements; +no--his whole soul sinks down and swoons within him; he feels that the +last of his kind may vanish off the face of the earth--and not one +needle will quiver on those twigs; he feels his isolation, his +feebleness, his fortuitousness;--and in hurried, secret panic, he turns +to the petty cares and labours of life; he is more at ease in that +world he has himself created; there he is at home, there he dares yet +believe in his own importance and in his own power. + +Such were the ideas that came into my mind, some years ago, when, +standing on the steps of a little inn on the bank of the marshy little +river Ressetta, I first gazed upon the forest. The bluish masses of +fir-forest lay in long, continuous ridges before me; here and there was +the green patch of a small birch-copse; the whole sky-line was hugged +by the pine-wood; nowhere was there the white gleam of a church, nor +bright stretches of meadow--it was all trees and trees, everywhere the +ragged edge of the tree-tops, and a delicate dim mist, the eternal mist +of the forest, hung over them in the distance. It was not indolent +repose this immobility of life suggested; no--the absence of life, +something dead, even in its grandeur, was what came to me from every +side of the horizon. I remember big white clouds were swimming by, +slowly and very high up, and the hot summer day lay motionless upon the +silent earth. The reddish water of the stream glided without a splash +among the thick reeds: at its bottom could be dimly discerned round +cushions of pointed moss, and its banks sank away in the swampy mud, +and sharply reappeared again in white hillocks of fine crumbling sand. +Close by the little inn ran the trodden highroad. + +On this road, just opposite the steps, stood a cart, loaded with boxes +and hampers. Its owner, a thin pedlar with a hawk nose and mouse-like +eyes, bent and lame, was putting in it his little nag, lame like +himself. He was a gingerbread-seller, who was making his way to the +fair at Karatchev. Suddenly several people appeared on the road, others +straggled after them ... at last, quite a crowd came trudging into +sight; all of them had sticks in their hands and satchels on their +shoulders. From their fatigued yet swinging gait, and from their +sun-burnt faces, one could see they had come from a long distance. They +were leatherworkers and diggers coming back from working for hire. + +An old man of seventy, white all over, seemed to be their leader. From +time to time he turned round and with a quiet voice urged on those who +lagged behind. 'Now, now, now, lads,' he said, 'no--ow.' They all +walked in silence, in a sort of solemn hush. Only one of them, a little +man with a wrathful air, in a sheepskin coat wide open, and a lambswool +cap pulled right over his eyes, on coming up to the gingerbread man, +suddenly inquired: 'How much is the gingerbread, you tomfool?' + +'What sort of gingerbread will it be, worthy sir?' the disconcerted +gingerbread--man responded in a thin, little voice. 'Some are a +farthing--and others cost a halfpenny. Have you a halfpenny in your +purse?' + +'But I guess it will sweeten the belly too much,' retorted the +sheepskin, and he retreated from the cart. + +'Hurry up, lads, hurry up,' I heard the old man's voice: 'it's far yet +to our night's rest.' + +'An uneducated folk,' said the gingerbread-man, with a squint at me, +directly all the crowd had trudged past: 'is such a dainty for the +likes of them?' + +And quickly harnessing his horse, he went down to the river, where a +little wooden ferry could be seen. A peasant in a white felt 'schlik' +(the usual headgear in the forest) came out of a low mud hut to meet +him, and ferried him over to the opposite bank. The little cart, with +one wheel creaking from time to time, crawled along the trodden and +deeply rutted road. + +I fed my horses, and I too was ferried over. After struggling for a +couple of miles through the boggy prairie, I got at last on to a narrow +raised wooden causeway to a clearing in the forest. The cart jolted +unevenly over the round beams of the causeway: I got out and went along +on foot. The horses moved in step snorting and shaking their heads from +the gnats and flies. The forest took us into its bosom. On the +outskirts, nearer to the prairie, grew birches, aspens, limes, maples, +and oaks. Then they met us more rarely, the dense firwood moved down on +us in an unbroken wall. Further on were the red, bare trunks of pines, +and then again a stretch of mixed copse, overgrown with underwood of +hazelnut, mountain ash, and bramble, and stout, vigorous weeds. The +sun's rays threw a brilliant light on the tree-tops, and, filtering +through the branches, here and there reached the ground in pale streaks +and patches. Birds I scarcely heard--they do not like great forests. +Only from time to time there came the doleful, thrice-repeated call of +a hoopoe, and the angry screech of a nuthatch or a jay; a silent, +always solitary bird kept fluttering across the clearing, with a flash +of golden azure from its lovely feathers. At times the trees grew +further apart, ahead of us the light broke in, the cart came out on a +cleared, sandy, open space. Thin rye was growing over it in rows, +noiselessly nodding its pale ears. On one side there was a dark, +dilapidated little chapel, with a slanting cross over a well. An unseen +brook was babbling peaceably with changing, ringing sounds, as though +it were flowing into an empty bottle. And then suddenly the road was +cut in half by a birch-tree recently fallen, and the forest stood +around, so old, lofty, and slumbering, that the air seemed pent in. In +places the clearing lay under water. On both sides stretched a forest +bog, all green and dark, all covered with reeds and tiny alders. Ducks +flew up in pairs--and it was strange to see those water-birds darting +rapidly about among the pines. 'Ga, ga, ga, ga,' their drawn-out call +kept rising unexpectedly. Then a shepherd drove a flock through the +underwood: a brown cow with short, pointed horns broke noisily through +the bushes and stood stockstill at the edge of the clearing, her big, +dark eyes fixed on the dog running before me. A slight breeze brought +the delicate, pungent smell of burnt wood. A white smoke in the +distance crept in eddying rings over the pale, blue forest air, showing +that a peasant was charcoal-burning for a glass-factory or for a +foundry. The further we went on, the darker and stiller it became all +round us. In the pine-forest it is always still; there is only, high +overhead, a sort of prolonged murmur and subdued roar in the tree-tops. +One goes on and on, and this eternal murmur of the forest never ceases, +and the heart gradually begins to sink, and a man longs to come out +quickly into the open, into the daylight; he longs to draw a full +breath again, and is oppressed by the fragrant damp and decay.... + +For about twelve miles we drove on at a walking pace, rarely at a trot. +I wanted to get by daylight to Svyatoe, a hamlet lying in the very +heart of the forest. Twice we met peasants with stripped bark or long +logs on carts. + +'Is it far to Svyatoe?' I asked one of them. + +'No, not far.' + +'How far?' + +'It'll be a little over two miles.' + +Another hour and a half went by. We were still driving on and on. Again +we heard the creak of a laden cart. A peasant was walking beside it. + +'How far, brother, is it still to Svyatoe?' + +'What?' + +'How far to Svyatoe?' + +'Six miles.' + +The sun was already setting when at last I got out of the forest and +saw facing me a little village. About twenty homesteads were grouped +close about an old wooden church, with a single green cupola, and tiny +windows, brilliantly red in the evening glow. This was Svyatoe. I drove +into its outskirts. A herd returning homewards overtook my cart, and +with lowing, grunting and bleating moved by us. Young girls and +bustling peasant women came to meet their beasts. Whiteheaded boys with +merry shrieks went in chase of refractory pigs. The dust swirled along +the street in light clouds, flushed crimson as they rose higher in the +air. + +I stopped at the house of the village elder, a crafty and clever +'forester,' one of those foresters of whom they say he can see two +yards into the ground. Early next morning, accompanied by the village +elder's son, and another peasant called Yegor, I set off in a little +cart with a pair of peasant's horses, to shoot woodcocks and moorhens. +The forest formed a continuous bluish ring all round the sky-line; +there was reckoned to be two hundred acres, no more, of ploughed land +round Svyatoe; but one had to go some five miles to find good places +for game. The elder's son was called Kondrat. He was a flaxen-haired, +rosy-cheeked young fellow, with a good-natured, peaceable expression of +face, obliging and talkative. He drove the horses. Yegor sat by my +side. I want to say a few words about him. + +He was considered the cleverest sportsman in the whole district. Every +step of the ground for fifty miles round he had been over again and +again. He seldom fired at a bird, for lack of powder and shot; but it +was enough for him to decoy a moorhen or to detect the track of a +grouse. Yegor had the character of being a straightforward fellow and +'no talker.' He did not care for talking and never exaggerated the +number of birds he had taken--a trait rare in a sportsman. He was of +medium height, thin, and had a pale, long face, and big, honest eyes. +All his features, especially his straight and never-moving lips, were +expressive of untroubled serenity. He gave a slight, as it were inward +smile, whenever he uttered a word--very sweet was that quiet smile. He +never drank spirits, and worked industriously; but nothing prospered +with him. His wife was always ailing, his children didn't live; he got +poorer and poorer and could never pick up again. And there is no +denying that a passion for the chase is no good for a peasant, and any +one who 'plays with a gun' is sure to be a poor manager of his land. +Either from constantly being in the forest, face to face with the stern +and melancholy scenery of that inhuman country, or from the peculiar +cast and formation of his character, there was noticeable in every +action of Yegor's a sort of modest dignity and stateliness--stateliness +it was, and not melancholy--the stateliness of a majestic stag. He had +in his time killed seven bears, lying in wait for them in the oats. The +last he had only succeeded in killing on the fourth night of his +ambush; the bear persisted in not turning sideways to him, and he had +only one bullet. Yegor had killed him the day before my arrival. When +Kondrat brought me to him, I found him in his back yard; squatting on +his heels before the huge beast, he was cutting the fat out with a +short, blunt knife. + +'What a fine fellow you've knocked over there!' I observed. + +Yegor raised his head and looked first at me, then at the dog, who had +come with me. + +'If it's shooting you've come after, sir, there are woodcocks at +Moshnoy--three coveys, and five of moorhens,' he observed, and set to +work again. + +With Yegor and with Kondrat I went out the next day in search of sport. +We drove rapidly over the open ground surrounding Svyatoe, but when we +got into the forest we crawled along at a walking pace once more. + +'Look, there's a wood-pigeon,' said Kondrat suddenly, turning to me: +'better knock it over!' + +Yegor looked in the direction Kondrat pointed, but said nothing. The +wood-pigeon was over a hundred paces from us, and one can't kill it at +forty paces; there is such strength in its feathers. A few more remarks +were made by the conversational Kondrat; but the forest hush had its +influence even on him; he became silent. Only rarely exchanging a word +or two, looking straight ahead, and listening to the puffing and +snorting of the horses, we got at last to 'Moshnoy.' That is the name +given to the older pine-forest, overgrown in places by fir saplings. We +got out; Kondrat led the cart into the bushes, so that the gnats should +not bite the horses. Yegor examined the cock of his gun and crossed +himself: he never began anything without the sign of the cross. + +The forest into which we had come was exceedingly old. I don't know +whether the Tartars had wandered over it, but Russian thieves or +Lithuanians, in disturbed times, might certainly have hidden in its +recesses. At a respectful distance from one another stood the mighty +pines with their slightly curved, massive, pale-yellow trunks. Between +them stood in single file others, rather younger. The ground was +covered with greenish moss, sprinkled all over with dead pine-needles; +blueberries grew in dense bushes; the strong perfume of the berries, +like the smell of musk, oppressed the breathing. The sun could not +pierce through the high network of the pine-branches; but it was +stiflingly hot in the forest all the same, and not dark; like big drops +of sweat the heavy, transparent resin stood out and slowly trickled +down the coarse bark of the trees. The still air, with no light or +shade in it, stung the face. Everything was silent; even our footsteps +were not audible; we walked on the moss as on a carpet. Yegor in +particular moved as silently as a shadow; even the brushwood did not +crackle under his feet. He walked without haste, from time to time +blowing a shrill note on a whistle; a woodcock soon answered back, and +before my eyes darted into a thick fir-tree. But in vain Yegor pointed +him out to me; however much I strained my eyes, I could not make him +out. Yegor had to take a shot at him. We came upon two coveys of +moorhens also. The cautious birds rose at a distance with an abrupt, +heavy sound. We succeeded, however, in killing three young ones. + +At one _meidan_ [Footnote 1: _Meidan_ is the name given to a place +where tar has been made.--Author's Note.] Yegor suddenly stopped and +called me up. + +'A bear has been trying to get water,' he observed, pointing to a +broad, fresh scratch, made in the very middle of a hole covered with +fine moss. + +'Is that the print of his paw?' I inquired. + +'Yes; but the water has dried up. That's the track of him too on that +pine; he has been climbing after honey. He has cut into it with his +claws as if with a knife.' + +We went on making our way into the inner-most depths of the forest. +Yegor only rarely looked upwards, and walked on serenely and +confidently. I saw a high, round rampart, enclosed by a half-choked-up +ditch. + +'What's that? a _meidan_ too?' I inquired. + +'No,' answered Yegor; 'here's where the thieves' town stood.' + +'Long ago?' + +'Long ago; our grandfathers remember it. Here they buried their +treasure. And they took a mighty oath: on human blood.' + +We went on another mile and a half; I began to feel thirsty. + +'Sit down a little while,' said Yegor: 'I will go for water; there is a +well not far from here.' + +He went away; I was left alone. + +I sat down on a felled stump, leaned my elbows on my knees, and after a +long stillness, raised my head and looked around me. Oh, how still and +sullenly gloomy was everything around me--no, not gloomy even, but +dumb, cold, and menacing at the same time! My heart sank. At that +instant, at that spot, I had a sense of death breathing upon me, I felt +I almost touched its perpetual closeness. If only one sound had +vibrated, one momentary rustle had arisen, in the engulfing stillness +of the pine-forest that hemmed me in on all sides! I let my head sink +again, almost in terror; it was as though I had looked in, where no man +ought to look.... I put my hand over my eyes--and all at once, as +though at some mysterious bidding, I began to remember all my life.... + +There passed in a flash before me my childhood, noisy and peaceful, +quarrelsome and good-hearted, with hurried joys and swift sorrows; then +my youth rose up, vague, queer, self-conscious, with all its mistakes +and beginnings, with disconnected work, and agitated indolence.... +There came back, too, to my memory the comrades who shared those early +aspirations ... then like lightning in the night there came the gleam +of a few bright memories ... then the shadows began to grow and bear +down on me, it was darker and darker about me, more dully and quietly +the monotonous years ran by--and like a stone, dejection sank upon my +heart. I sat without stirring and gazed, gazed with effort and +perplexity, as though I saw all my life before me, as though scales had +fallen from my eyes. Oh, what have I done! my lips involuntarily +murmured in a bitter whisper. O life, life, where, how have you gone +without a trace? How have you slipped through my clenched fingers? Have +you deceived me, or was it that I knew not how to make use of your +gifts? Is it possible? is this fragment, this poor handful of dusty +ashes, all that is left of you? Is this cold, stagnant, unnecessary +something--I, the I of old days? How? The soul was athirst for +happiness so perfect, she rejected with such scorn all that was small, +all that was insufficient, she waited: soon happiness would burst on +her in a torrent--and has not one drop moistened the parched lips? Oh, +my golden strings, you that once so delicately, so sweetly quivered,--I +have never, it seems, heard your music ... you had but just +sounded--when you broke. Or, perhaps, happiness, the true happiness of +all my life, passed close by me, smiled a resplendent smile upon +me--and I failed to recognise its divine countenance. Or did it really +visit me, sit at my bedside, and is forgotten by me, like a dream? Like +a dream, I repeated disconsolately. Elusive images flitted over my +soul, awakening in it something between pity and bewilderment ... you +too, I thought, dear, familiar, lost faces, you, thronging about me in +this deadly solitude, why are you so profoundly and mournfully silent? +From what abyss have you arisen? How am I to interpret your enigmatic +glances? Are you greeting me, or bidding me farewell? Oh, can it be +there is no hope, no turning back? Why are these heavy, belated drops +trickling from my eyes? O heart, why, to what end, grieve more? try to +forget if you would have peace, harden yourself to the meek acceptance +of the last parting, to the bitter words 'good-bye' and 'for ever.' Do +not look back, do not remember, do not strive to reach where it is +light, where youth laughs, where hope is wreathed with the flowers of +spring, where dovelike delight soars on azure wings, where love, like +dew in the sunrise, flashes with tears of ecstasy; look not where is +bliss, and faith and power--that is not our place! + +'Here is water for you,' I heard Yegor's musical voice behind me: +'drink, with God's blessing.' + +I could not help starting; this living speech shook me, sent a +delightful tremor all through me. It was as though I had fallen into +unknown, dark depths, where all was hushed about me, and nothing could +be heard but the soft, persistent moan of some unending grief.... I was +faint and could not struggle, and all at once there floated down to me +a friendly voice, and some mighty hand with one pull drew me up into +the light of day. I looked round, and with unutterable consolation saw +the serene and honest face of my guide. He stood easily and gracefully +before me, and with his habitual smile held out a wet flask full of +clear liquid.... I got up. + +'Let's go on; lead the way,' I said eagerly. We set off and wandered a +long while, till evening. Directly the noonday heat was over, it became +cold and dark so rapidly in the forest that one felt no desire to +remain in it. + +'Away, restless mortals,' it seemed whispering sullenly from each pine. +We came out, but it was some time before we could find Kondrat. We +shouted, called to him, but he did not answer. All of a sudden, in the +profound stillness of the air, we heard his 'wo, wo,' sound distinctly +in a ravine close to us.... The wind, which had suddenly sprung up, and +as suddenly dropped again, had prevented him from hearing our calls. +Only on the trees which stood some distance apart were traces of its +onslaught to be seen; many of the leaves were blown inside out, and +remained so, giving a variegated look to the motionless foliage. We got +into the cart, and drove home. I sat, swaying to and fro, and slowly +breathing in the damp, rather keen air; and all my recent reveries and +regrets were drowned in the one sensation of drowsiness and fatigue, in +the one desire to get back as soon as possible to the shelter of a warm +house, to have a good drink of tea with cream, to nestle into the soft, +yielding hay, and to sleep, to sleep, to sleep.... + + + + +SECOND DAY + + +The next morning the three of us set off to the 'Charred Wood.' Ten +years before, several thousand acres in the 'Forest' had been burnt +down, and had not up to that time grown again; here and there, young +firs and pines were shooting up, but for the most part there was +nothing but moss and ashes. In this 'Charred Wood,' which is reckoned +to be about nine miles from Svyatoe, there are all sorts of berries +growing in great profusion, and it is a favourite haunt of grouse, who +are very fond of strawberries and bilberries. + +We were driving along in silence, when suddenly Kondrat raised his +head. + +'Ah!' he exclaimed: 'why, that's never Efrem standing yonder! 'Morning +to you, Alexandritch,' he added, raising his voice, and lifting his +cap. + +A short peasant in a short, black smock, with a cord round the waist, +came out from behind a tree, and approached the cart. + +'Why, have they let you off?' inquired Kondrat. + +'I should think so!' replied the peasant, and he grinned. 'You don't +catch them keeping the likes of me.' + +'And what did Piotr Filippitch say to it?' + +'Filippov, is it? Oh, he's all right.' + +'You don't say so! Why, I thought, Alexandritch--well, brother, thought +I, now you 're the goose that must lie down in the frying-pan!' + +'On account of Piotr Filippov, hey? Get along! We've seen plenty like +him. He tries to pass for a wolf, and then slinks off like a +dog.--Going shooting your honour, hey?' the peasant suddenly inquired, +turning his little, screwed-up eyes rapidly upon me, and at once +dropping them again. + +'Yes.' + +'And whereabouts, now?' + +'To the Charred Wood,' said Kondrat. + +'You 're going to the Charred Wood? mind you don't get into the fire.' + +'Eh?' + +'I've seen a lot of woodcocks,' the peasant went on, seeming all the +while to be laughing, and making Kondrat no answer. 'But you'll never +get there; as the crow flies it'll be fifteen miles. Why, even Yegor +here--not a doubt but he's as at home in the forest as in his own +back-yard, but even he won't make his way there. Hullo, Yegor, you +honest penny halfpenny soul!' he shouted suddenly. + +'Good morning, Efrem,' Yegor responded deliberately. + +I looked with curiosity at this Efrem. It was long since I had seen +such a queer face. He had a long, sharp nose, thick lips, and a scanty +beard. His little blue eyes positively danced, like little imps. He +stood in a free-and-easy pose, his arms akimbo, and did not touch his +cap. + +'Going home for a visit, eh?' Kondrat questioned him. + +'Go on! on a visit! It's not the weather for that, my lad; it's set +fair. It's all open and free, my dear; one may lie on the stove till +winter time, not a dog will stir. When I was in the town, the clerk +said: "Give us up," says he, "'Lexandritch; you just get out of the +district, we'll let you have a passport, first-class one ..." but +there, I'd pity on you Svyatoe fellows: you'd never get another thief +like me.' + +Kondrat laughed. + +'You will have your joke, uncle, you will, upon my word,' he said, and +he shook the reins. The horses started off. + +'Wo,' said Efrem. The horses stopped. Kondrat did not like this prank. + +'Enough of your nonsense, Alexandritch,' he observed in an undertone: +'don't you see we're out with a gentleman? You mind; he'll be angry.' + +'Get on with you, sea-drake! What should he be angry about? He's a +good-natured gentleman. You see, he'll give me something to drink. Hey, +master, give a poor scoundrel a dram! Won't I drink it!' he added, +shrugging his shoulder up to his ear, and grating his teeth. + +I could not help smiling, gave him a copper, and told Kondrat to drive +on. + +'Much obliged, your honour,' Efrem shouted after us in soldierly +fashion. 'And you'll know, Kondrat, for the future from whom to learn +manners. Faint heart never wins; 'tis boldness gains the day. When you +come back, come to my place, d'ye hear? There'll be drinking going on +three days at home; there'll be some necks broken, I can tell you; my +wife's a devil of a woman; our yard's on the side of a precipice.... +Ay, magpie, have a good time till your tail gets pinched.' And with a +sharp whistle, Efrem plunged into the bushes. + +'What sort of man is he?' I questioned Kondrat, who, sitting in the +front, kept shaking his head, as though deliberating with himself. + +'That fellow?' replied Kondrat, and he looked down. 'That fellow?' he +repeated. + +'Yes. Is he of your village?' + +'Yes, he's a Svyatoe man. He's a fellow.... You wouldn't find the like +of him, if you hunted for a hundred miles round. A thief and +cheat--good Lord, yes! Another man's property simply, as it were, takes +his eye. You may bury a thing underground, and you won't hide it from +him; and as to money, you might sit on it, and he'd get it from under +you without your noticing it.' + +'What a bold fellow he is!' + +'Bold? Yes, he's not afraid of any one. But just look at him; he's a +beast by his physiognomy; you can see by his nose.' (Kondrat often used +to drive with gentlemen, and had been in the chief town of the +province, and so liked on occasion to show off his attainments.) +'There's positively no doing anything with him. How many times they've +taken him off to put him in the prison!--it's simply trouble thrown +away. They start tying him up, and he'll say, "Come, why don't you +fasten that leg? fasten that one too, and a little tighter: I'll have a +little sleep meanwhile; and I shall get home before your escort." And +lo and behold! there he is back again, yes, back again, upon my soul! +Well as we all about here know the forest, being used to it from +childhood, we're no match for him there. Last summer he came at night +straight across from Altuhin to Svyatoe, and no one had ever been known +to walk it--it'll be over thirty miles. And he steals honey too; no one +can beat him at that; and the bees don't sting him. There's not a hive +he hasn't plundered.' + +'I expect he doesn't spare the wild bees either?' + +'Well, no, I won't lay a false charge against him. That sin's never +been observed in him. The wild bees' nest is a holy thing with us. A +hive is shut in by fences; there's a watch kept; if you get the +honey--it's your luck; but the wild bee is a thing of God's, not +guarded; only the bear touches it.' + +'Because he is a bear,' remarked Yegor. + +'Is he married?' + +'To be sure. And he has a son. And won't he be a thief too, the son! +He's taken after his father. And he's training him now too. The other +day he took a pot with some old coppers in it, stolen somewhere, I've +no doubt, went and buried it in a clearing in the forest, and went home +and sent his son to the clearing. "Till you find the pot," says he, "I +won't give you anything to eat, or let you into the place." The son +stayed the whole day in the forest, and spent the night there, but he +found the pot. Yes, he's a smart chap, that Efrem. When he's at home, +he's a civil fellow, presses every one; you may eat and drink as you +will, and there'll be dancing got up at his place and merry-making of +all sorts. And when he comes to the meeting--we have a parish meeting, +you know, in our village--well, no one talks better sense than he does; +he'll come up behind, listen, say a word as if he chopped it off, and +away again; and a weighty word it'll be, too. But when he's about in +the forest, ah! that means trouble! We've to look out for mischief. +Though, I must say, he doesn't touch his own people unless he's in a +fix. If he meets a Svyatoe man: "Go along with you, brother," he'll +shout, a long way away; "the forest devil's upon me: I shall kill +you!"--it's a bad business!' + +'What can you all be thinking about? A whole district can't get even +with one man?' + +'Well, that's just how it is, any way.' + +'Is he a sorcerer, then?' + +'Who can say! Here, some days ago, he crept round at night to the +deacon's near, after the honey, and the deacon was watching the hive +himself. Well, he caught him, and in the dark he gave him a good +hiding. When he'd done, Efrem, he says to him: "But d'you know who it +is you've been beating?" The deacon, when he knew him by his voice, was +fairly dumfoundered. + +"Well, my good friend," says Efrem, "you won't get off so easily for +this." The deacon fell down at his feet. "Take," says he, "what you +please." "No," says he. "I'll take it from you at my own time and as I +choose." And what do you think? Since that day the deacon's as though +he'd been scalded; he wanders about like a ghost. "It's taken," says +he, "all the heart out of me; it was a dreadful, powerful saying, to be +sure, the brigand fastened upon me." That's how it is with him, with +the deacon.' + +'That deacon must be a fool,' I observed. + +'A fool? Well, but what do you say to this? There was once an order +issued to seize this fellow, Efrem. We had a police commissary then, a +sharp man. And so a dozen chaps went off into the forest to take Efrem. +They look, and there he is coming to meet them.... One of them shouts, +"Here he is, hold him, tie him!" But Efrem stepped into the forest and +cut himself a branch, two fingers' thickness, like this, and then out +he skips into the road again, looking so frightful, so terrible, and +gives the command like a general at a review: "On your knees!" All of +them fairly fell down. "But who," says he, "shouted hold him, tie him? +You, Seryoga?" The fellow simply jumped up and ran ... and Efrem after +him, and kept swinging his branch at his heels.... For nearly a mile he +stroked him down. And afterwards he never ceased to regret: "Ah," he'd +say, "it is annoying I didn't lay him up for the confession." For it +was just before St. Philip's day. Well, they changed the police +commissary soon after, but it all ended the same way.' + +'Why did they all give in to him?' + +'Why! well, it is so....' + +'He has frightened you all, and now he does as he likes with you.' + +'Frightened, yes.... He'd frighten any one. And he's a wonderful hand +at contrivances, my goodness, yes! I once came upon him in the forest; +there was a heavy rain falling; I was for edging away.... But he looked +at me, and beckoned to me with his hand like this. "Come along," says +he, "Kondrat, don't be afraid. Let me show you how to live in the +forest, and to keep dry in the rain." I went up to him, and he was +sitting under a fir-tree, and he'd made a fire of damp twigs: the smoke +hung about in the fir-tree, and kept the rain from dripping through. I +was astonished at him then. And I'll tell you what he contrived one +time' (and Kondrat laughed); 'he really did do a funny thing. They'd +been thrashing the oats at the thrashing-floor, and they hadn't +finished; they hadn't time to rake up the last heap; well, they 'd set +two watch-men by it for the night, and they weren't the boldest-hearted +of the chaps either. Well, they were sitting and gossiping, and Efrem +takes and stuffs his shirt-sleeves full of straw, ties up the +wrist-bands, and puts the shirt up over his head. And so he steals up +in that shape to the thrashing-floor, and just pops out from behind the +corner and gives them a peep of his horns. One chap says to the other: +"Do you see?" "Yes," says the other, and didn't he give a screech all +of a sudden ... and then the fences creaked and nothing more was seen +of them. Efrem shovelled up the oats into a bag and dragged it off +home. He told the story himself afterwards. He put them to shame, he +did, the chaps.... He did really!' + +Kondrat laughed again. And Yegor smiled. 'So the fences creaked and +that was all?' he commented. 'There was nothing more seen of them,' +Kondrat assented. 'They were simply gone in a flash.' + +We were all silent again. Suddenly Kondrat started and sat up. + +'Eh, mercy upon us!' he ejaculated; 'surely it's never a fire!' + +'Where, where?' we asked. + +'Yonder, see, in front, where we 're going.... A fire it is! Efrem +there, Efrem--why, he foretold it! If it's not his doing, the damned +fellow!...' + +I glanced in the direction Kondrat was pointing. Two or three miles +ahead of us, behind a green strip of low fir saplings, there really was +a thick column of dark blue smoke slowly rising from the ground, +gradually twisting and coiling into a cap-shaped cloud; to the right +and left of it could be seen others, smaller and whiter. + +A peasant, all red and perspiring, in nothing but his shirt, with his +hair hanging dishevelled about his scared face, galloped straight +towards us, and with difficulty stopped his hastily bridled horse. + +'Mates,' he inquired breathlessly, 'haven't you seen the foresters?' + +'No, we haven't. What is it? is the forest on fire?' + +'Yes. We must get the people together, or else if it gets to Trosnoe ...' + +The peasant tugged with his elbows, pounded with his heels on the +horse's sides.... It galloped off. + +Kondrat, too, whipped up his pair. We drove straight towards the smoke, +which was spreading more and more widely; in places it suddenly grew +black and rose up high. The nearer we moved to it, the more indefinite +became its outlines; soon all the air was clouded over, there was a +strong smell of burning, and here and there between the trees, with a +strange, weird quivering in the sunshine, gleamed the first pale red +tongues of flame. + +'Well, thank God,' observed Kondrat, 'it seems it's an overground +fire.' + +'What's that?' + +'Overground? One that runs along over the earth. With an underground +fire, now, it's a difficult job to deal. What's one to do, when the +earth's on fire for a whole yard's depth? There's only one means of +safety--digging ditches,--and do you suppose that's easy? But an +overground fire's nothing. It only scorches the grasses and burns the +dry leaves! The forest will be all the better for it. Ouf, though, +mercy on us, look how it flares!' + +We drove almost up to the edge of the fire. I got down and went to meet +it. It was neither dangerous nor difficult. The fire was running over +the scanty pine-forest against the wind; it moved in an uneven line, +or, to speak more accurately, in a dense jagged wall of curved tongues. +The smoke was carried away by the wind. Kondrat had told the truth; it +really was an overground fire, which only scorched the grass and passed +on without finishing its work, leaving behind it a black and smoking, +but not even smouldering, track. At times, it is true, when the fire +came upon a hole filled with dry wood and twigs, it suddenly and with a +kind of peculiar, rather vindictive roar, rose up in long, quivering +points; but it soon sank down again and ran on as before, with a slight +hiss and crackle. I even noticed, more than once, an oak-bush, with dry +hanging leaves, hemmed in all round and yet untouched, except for a +slight singeing at its base. I must own I could not understand why the +dry leaves were not burned. Kondrat explained to me that it was owing +to the fact that the fire was overground, 'that's to say, not angry.' +'But it's fire all the same,' I protested. 'Overground fire,' repeated +Kondrat. However, overground as it was, the fire, none the less, +produced its effect: hares raced up and down with a sort of disorder, +running back with no sort of necessity into the neighbourhood of the +fire; birds fell down in the smoke and whirled round and round; horses +looked back and neighed, the forest itself fairly hummed--and man felt +discomfort from the heat suddenly beating into his face.... + +'What are we looking at?' said Yegor suddenly, behind my back. 'Let's +go on.' + +'But where are we to go?' asked Kondrat. + +'Take the left, over the dry bog; we shall get through.' + +We turned to the left, and got through, though it was sometimes +difficult for both the horses and the cart. + +The whole day we wandered over the Charred Wood. At evening--the sunset +had not yet begun to redden in the sky, but the shadows from the trees +already lay long and motionless, and in the grass one could feel that +chill that comes before the dew--I lay down by the roadside near the +cart in which Kondrat, without haste, was harnessing the horses after +their feed, and I recalled my cheerless reveries of the day before. +Everything around was as still as the previous evening, but there was +not the forest, stifling and weighing down the spirit. On the dry moss, +on the crimson grasses, on the soft dust of the road, on the slender +stems and pure little leaves of the young birch-trees, lay the clear +soft light of the no longer scorching, sinking sun. Everything was +resting, plunged in soothing coolness; nothing was yet asleep, but +everything was getting ready for the restoring slumber of evening and +night-time. Everything seemed to be saying to man: 'Rest, brother of +ours; breathe lightly, and grieve not, thou too, at the sleep close +before thee.' I raised my head and saw at the very end of a delicate +twig one of those large flies with emerald head, long body, and four +transparent wings, which the fanciful French call 'maidens,' while our +guileless people has named them 'bucket-yokes.' For a long while, more +than an hour, I did not take my eyes off her. Soaked through and +through with sunshine, she did not stir, only from time to time turning +her head from side to side and shaking her lifted wings ... that was +all. Looking at her, it suddenly seemed to me that I understood the +life of nature, understood its clear and unmistakable though, to many, +still mysterious significance. A subdued, quiet animation, an +unhasting, restrained use of sensations and powers, an equilibrium of +health in each separate creature--there is her very basis, her +unvarying law, that is what she stands upon and holds to. Everything +that goes beyond this level, above or below--it makes no +difference--she flings away as worthless. Many insects die as soon as +they know the joys of love, which destroy the equilibrium. The sick +beast plunges into the thicket and expires there alone: he seems to +feel that he no longer has the right to look upon the sun that is +common to all, nor to breathe the open air; he has not the right to +live;--and the man who from his own fault or from the fault of others +is faring ill in the world--ought, at least, to know how to keep +silence. + +'Well, Yegor!' cried Kondrat all at once. He had already settled +himself on the box of the cart and was shaking and playing with the +reins. 'Come, sit down. What are you so thoughtful about? Still about +the cow?' + +'About the cow? What cow?' I repeated, and looked at Yegor: calm and +stately as ever, he certainly did seem thoughtful, and was gazing away +into the distance towards the fields already beginning to get dark. + +'Don't you know?' answered Kondrat; 'his last cow died last night. He +has no luck.--What are you going to do?'.... + +Yegor sat down on the box, without speaking, and we drove off. 'That +man knows how to bear in silence,' I thought. + + + + +YAKOV PASINKOV + +I + + +It happened in Petersburg, in the winter, on the first day of the +carnival. I had been invited to dinner by one of my schoolfellows, who +enjoyed in his youth the reputation of being as modest as a maiden, and +turned out in the sequel a person by no means over rigid in his +conduct. He is dead now, like most of my schoolfellows. There were to +be present at the dinner, besides me, Konstantin Alexandrovitch Asanov, +and a literary celebrity of those days. The literary celebrity kept us +waiting for him, and finally sent a note that he was not coming, and in +place of him there turned up a little light-haired gentleman, one of +the everlasting uninvited guests with whom Petersburg abounds. + +The dinner lasted a long while; our host did not spare the wine, and by +degrees our heads were affected. Everything that each of us kept hidden +in his heart--and who is there that has not something hidden in his +heart?--came to the surface. Our host's face suddenly lost its modest +and reserved expression; his eyes shone with a brazen-faced impudence, +and a vulgar grin curved his lips; the light-haired gentleman laughed +in a feeble way, with a senseless crow; but Asanov surprised me more +than any one. The man had always been conspicuous for his sense of +propriety, but now he began by suddenly rubbing his hand over his +forehead, giving himself airs, boasting of his connections, and +continually alluding to a certain uncle of his, a very important +personage.... I positively should not have known him; he was +unmistakably jeering at us ... he all but avowed his contempt for our +society. Asanov's insolence began to exasperate me. + +'Listen,' I said to him; 'if we are such poor creatures to your +thinking, you'd better go and see your illustrious uncle. But possibly +he's not at home to you.' + +Asanov made me no reply, and went on passing his hand across his +forehead. + +'What a set of people!' he said again; 'they've never been in any +decent society, never been acquainted with a single decent woman, while +I have here,' he cried, hurriedly pulling a pocket-book out of his +side-pocket and tapping it with his hand, 'a whole pack of letters from +a girl whom you wouldn't find the equal of in the whole world.' + +Our host and the light-haired gentleman paid no attention to Asanov's +last words; they were holding each other by their buttons, and both +relating something; but I pricked up my ears. + +'Oh, you 're bragging, Mr. nephew of an illustrious personage,' I said, +going up to Asanov; 'you haven't any letters at all.' + +'Do you think so?' he retorted, and he looked down loftily at me; +'what's this, then?' He opened the pocket-book, and showed me about a +dozen letters addressed to him.... A familiar handwriting, I +fancied.... I feel the flush of shame mounting to my cheeks ... my +self-love is suffering horribly.... No one likes to own to a mean +action.... But there is nothing for it: when I began my story, I knew I +should have to blush to my ears in the course of it. And so, I am bound +to harden my heart and confess that.... + +Well, this was what passed: I took advantage of the intoxicated +condition of Asanov, who had carelessly dropped the letters on the +champagne-stained tablecloth (my own head was dizzy enough too), and +hurriedly ran my eyes over one of the letters.... + +My heart stood still.... Alas! I was myself in love with the girl who +had written to Asanov, and I could have no doubt now that she loved +him. The whole letter, which was in French, expressed tenderness and +devotion.... + +'Mon cher ami Constantin!' so it began ... and it ended with the words: +'be careful as before, and I will be yours or no one's.' + +Stunned as by a thunderbolt, I sat for a few instants motionless; at +last I regained my self-possession, jumped up, and rushed out of the +room. + +A quarter of an hour later I was back at home in my own lodgings. + + + * * * * * + + +The family of the Zlotnitskys was one of the first whose acquaintance I +made on coming to Petersburg from Moscow. It consisted of a father and +mother, two daughters, and a son. The father, a man already grey, but +still vigorous, who had been in the army, held a fairly important +position, spent the morning in a government office, went to sleep after +dinner, and in the evening played cards at his club.... He was seldom +at home, spoke little and unwillingly, looked at one from under his +eyebrows with an expression half surly, half indifferent, and read +nothing except books of travels and geography. Sometimes he was unwell, +and then he would shut himself up in his own room, and paint little +pictures, or tease the old grey parrot, Popka. His wife, a sickly, +consumptive woman, with hollow black eyes and a sharp nose, did not +leave her sofa for days together, and was always embroidering +cushion-covers in canvas. As far as I could observe, she was rather +afraid of her husband, as though she had somehow wronged him at some +time or other. The elder daughter, Varvara, a plump, rosy, fair-haired +girl of eighteen, was always sitting at the window, watching the people +that passed by. The son, who was being educated in a government school, +was only seen at home on Sundays, and he, too, did not care to waste +his words. Even the younger daughter, Sophia, the girl with whom I was +in love, was of a silent disposition. In the Zlotnitskys' house there +reigned a perpetual stillness; it was only broken by the piercing +screams of Popka, but visitors soon got used to these, and were +conscious again of the burden and oppression of the eternal stillness. +Visitors, however, seldom looked in upon the Zlotnitskys; their house +was a dull one. The very furniture, the red paper with yellow patterns +in the drawing-room, the numerous rush-bottomed chairs in the +dining-room, the faded wool-work cushions, embroidered with figures of +girls and dogs, on the sofa, the branching lamps, and the +gloomy-looking portraits on the walls--everything inspired an +involuntary melancholy, about everything there clung a sense of chill +and flatness. On my arrival in Petersburg, I had thought it my duty to +call on the Zlotnitskys. They were relations of my mother's. I managed +with difficulty to sit out an hour with them, and it was a long while +before I went there again. But by degrees I took to going oftener and +oftener. I was drawn there by Sophia, whom I had not cared for at +first, and with whom I finally fell in love. + +She was a slender, almost thin, girl of medium height, with a pale +face, thick black hair, and big brown eyes, always half closed. Her +severe and well-defined features, especially her tightly shut lips, +showed determination and strength of will. At home they knew her to be +a girl with a will of her own.... + +'She's like her eldest sister, like Katerina,' Madame Zlotnitsky said +one day, as she sat alone with me (in her husband's presence she did +not dare to mention the said Katerina). 'You don't know her; she's in +the Caucasus, married. At thirteen, only fancy, she fell in love with +her husband, and announced to us at the time that she would never marry +any one else. We did everything we could--nothing was of any use. She +waited till she was three-and-twenty, and braved her father's anger, +and so married her idol. There is no saying what Sonitchka might not +do! The Lord preserve her from such stubbornness! But I am afraid for +her; she's only sixteen now, and there's no turning her....' + +Mr. Zlotnitsky came in, and his wife was instantly silent. + +What had captivated me in Sophia was not her strength of will--no; but +with all her dryness, her lack of vivacity and imagination, she had a +special charm of her own, the charm of straightforwardness, genuine +sincerity, and purity of heart. I respected her as much as I loved +her.... It seemed to me that she too looked with friendly eyes on me; +to have my illusions as to her feeling for me shattered, and her love +for another man proved conclusively, was a blow to me. + +The unlooked-for discovery I had made astonished me the more as Asanov +was not often at the Zlotnitskys' house, much less so than I, and had +shown no marked preference for Sonitchka. He was a handsome, dark +fellow, with expressive but rather heavy features, with brilliant, +prominent eyes, with a large white forehead, and full red lips under +fine moustaches. He was very discreet, but severe in his behaviour, +confident in his criticisms and utterances, and dignified in his +silence. It was obvious that he thought a great deal of himself. Asanov +rarely laughed, and then with closed teeth, and he never danced. He was +rather loosely and clumsily built. He had at one time served in the +--th regiment, and was spoken of as a capable officer. + +'A strange thing!' I ruminated, lying on the sofa; 'how was it I +noticed nothing?' ... 'Be careful as before': those words in Sophia's +letter suddenly recurred to my memory. 'Ah!' I thought: 'that's it! +What a sly little hussy! And I thought her open and sincere.... Wait a +bit, that's all; I'll let you know....' + +But at this point, if I can trust my memory, I began weeping bitterly, +and could not get to sleep all night. + + + * * * * * + + +Next day at two o'clock I set off to the Zlotnitskys'. The father was +not at home, and his wife was not sitting in her usual place; after the +pancake festival of the preceding day, she had a headache, and had gone +to lie down in her bedroom. Varvara was standing with her shoulder +against the window, looking into the street; Sophia was walking up and +down the room with her arms folded across her bosom; Popka was +shrieking. + +'Ah! how do you do?' said Varvara lazily, directly I came into the +room, and she added at once in an undertone, 'There goes a peasant with +a tray on his head.' ... (She had the habit of keeping up a running +commentary on the passers-by to herself.) + +'How do you do?' I responded; 'how do you do, Sophia Nikolaevna? Where +is Tatiana Vassilievna?' + +'She has gone to lie down,' answered Sophia, still pacing the room. + +'We had pancakes,' observed Varvara, without turning round. 'Why didn't +you come? ... Where can that clerk be going?' 'Oh, I hadn't time.' +('Present arms!' the parrot screeched shrilly.) 'How Popka is shrieking +to-day!' + +'He always does shriek like that,' observed Sophia. + +We were all silent for a time. + +'He has gone in at the gate,' said Varvara, and she suddenly got up on +the window-sill and opened the window. + +'What are you about?' asked Sophia. + +'There's a beggar,' responded Varvara. She bent down, picked up a +five-copeck piece from the window; the remains of a fumigating pastille +still stood in a grey heap of ashes on the copper coin, as she flung it +into the street; then she slammed the window to and jumped heavily down +to the floor.... + +'I had a very pleasant time yesterday,' I began, seating myself in an +arm-chair. 'I dined with a friend of mine; Konstantin Alexandritch was +there.... (I looked at Sophia; not an eyebrow quivered on her face.) +'And I must own,' I continued, 'we'd a good deal of wine; we emptied +eight bottles between the four of us.' + +'Really!' Sophia articulated serenely, and she shook her head. + +'Yes,' I went on, slightly irritated at her composure: 'and do you know +what, Sophia Nikolaevna, it's a true saying, it seems, that in wine is +truth.' + +'How so?' + +'Konstantin Alexandritch made us laugh. Only fancy, he began all at +once passing his hand over his forehead like this, and saying: "I'm a +fine fellow! I've an uncle a celebrated man!"....' + +'Ha, ha!' came Varvara's short, abrupt laugh. + +....'Popka! Popka! Popka!' the parrot dinned back at her. + +Sophia stood still in front of me, and looked me straight in the face. + +'And you, what did you say?' she asked; 'don't you remember?' + +I could not help blushing. + +'I don't remember! I expect I was pretty absurd too. It certainly is +dangerous to drink,' I added with significant emphasis; 'one begins +chattering at once, and one's apt to say what no one ought to know. +One's sure to be sorry for it afterwards, but then it's too late.' + +'Why, did you let out some secret?' asked Sophia. + +'I am not referring to myself.' + +Sophia turned away, and began walking up and down the room again. I +stared at her, raging inwardly. 'Upon my word,' I thought, 'she is a +child, a baby, and how she has herself in hand! She's made of stone, +simply. But wait a bit....' + +'Sophia Nikolaevna ...' I said aloud. + +Sophia stopped. + +'What is it?' + +'Won't you play me something on the piano? By the way, I've something I +want to say to you,' I added, dropping my voice. + +Sophia, without saying a word, walked into the other room; I followed +her. She came to a standstill at the piano. + +'What am I to play you?' she inquired. + +'What you like ... one of Chopin's nocturnes.' + +Sophia began the nocturne. She played rather badly, but with feeling. +Her sister played nothing but polkas and waltzes, and even that very +seldom. She would go sometimes with her indolent step to the piano, sit +down, let her coat slip from her shoulders down to her elbows (I never +saw her without a coat), begin playing a polka very loud, and without +finishing it, begin another, then she would suddenly heave a sigh, get +up, and go back again to the window. A queer creature was that Varvara! + +I sat down near Sophia. + +'Sophia Nikolaevna,' I began, watching her intently from one side. 'I +ought to tell you a piece of news, news disagreeable to me.' + +'News? what is it?' + +'I'll tell you.... Up till now I have been mistaken in you, completely +mistaken.' + +'How was that?' she rejoined, going on playing, and keeping her eyes +fixed on her fingers. + +'I imagined you to be open; I imagined that you were incapable of +hypocrisy, of hiding your feelings, deceiving....' + +Sophia bent her face closer over the music. + +'I don't understand you.' + +'And what's more,' I went on; 'I could never have conceived that you, +at your age, were already quite capable of acting a part in such +masterly fashion.' + +Sophia's hands faintly trembled above the keys. 'Why are you saying +this?' she said, still not looking at me; 'I play a part?' + +'Yes, you do.' (She smiled ... I was seized with spiteful fury.) ... +'You pretend to be indifferent to a man and ... and you write letters +to him,' I added in a whisper. + +Sophia's cheeks grew white, but she did not turn to me: she played the +nocturne through to the end, got up, and closed the piano. + +'Where are you going?' I asked her in some perplexity. 'You have no +answer to make me?' + +'What answer can I make you? I don't know what you 're talking +about.... And I am not good at pretending....' + +She began putting by the music. + +The blood rushed to my head. 'No; you know what I am talking about,' I +said, and I too got up from my seat; 'or if you like, I will remind you +directly of some of your expressions in one letter: "be as careful as +before"....' + +Sophia gave a faint start. + +'I never should have expected this of you,' she said at last. + +'I never should have expected,' I retorted, 'that you, Sophia +Nikolaevna, would have deigned to notice a man who ...' + +Sophia turned with a rapid movement to me; I instinctively stepped back +a little from her; her eyes, always half closed, were so wide open that +they looked immense, and they glittered wrathfully under her frowning +brows. + +'Oh! if that's it,' she said, 'let me tell you that I love that man, +and that it's absolutely no consequence to me what you think about him +or about my love for him. And what business is it of yours? ... What +right have you to speak of this? If I have made up my mind ...' + +She stopped speaking, and went hurriedly out of the room. I stood +still. I felt all of a sudden so uncomfortable and so ashamed that I +hid my face in my hands. I realised all the impropriety, all the +baseness of my behaviour, and, choked with shame and remorse, I stood +as it were in disgrace. 'Mercy,' I thought, 'what I've done!' + +'Anton Nikititch,' I heard the maid-servant saying in the outer-room, +'get a glass of water, quick, for Sophia Nikolaevna.' + +'What's wrong?' answered the man. + +'I fancy she's crying....' + +I started up and went into the drawing-room for my hat. + +'What were you talking about to Sonitchka?' Varvara inquired +indifferently, and after a brief pause she added in an undertone, +'Here's that clerk again.' + +I began saying good-bye. + +'Why are you going? Stay a little; mamma is coming down directly.' + +'No; I can't now,' I said: 'I had better call and see her another +time.' + +At that instant, to my horror, to my positive horror, Sophia walked +with resolute steps into the drawing-room. Her face was paler than +usual, and her eyelids were a little red. She never even glanced at me. + +'Look, Sonia,' observed Varvara; 'there's a clerk keeps continually +passing our house.' + +'A spy, perhaps...' Sophia remarked coldly and contemptuously. + +This was too much. I went away, and I really don't know how I got home. + +I felt very miserable, wretched and miserable beyond description. In +twenty-four hours two such cruel blows! I had learned that Sophia loved +another man, and I had for ever forfeited her respect. I felt myself so +utterly annihilated and disgraced that I could not even feel indignant +with myself. Lying on the sofa with my face turned to the wall, I was +revelling in the first rush of despairing misery, when I suddenly heard +footsteps in the room. I lifted my head and saw one of my most intimate +friends, Yakov Pasinkov. + +I was ready to fly into a rage with any one who had come into my room +that day, but with Pasinkov I could never be angry. Quite the contrary; +in spite of the sorrow devouring me, I was inwardly rejoiced at his +coming, and I nodded to him. He walked twice up and down the room, as +his habit was, clearing his throat, and stretching out his long limbs; +then he stood a minute facing me in silence, and in silence he seated +himself in a corner. + +I had known Pasinkov a very long while, almost from childhood. He had +been brought up at the same private school, kept by a German, +Winterkeller, at which I had spent three years. Yakov's father, a poor +major on the retired list, a very honest man, but a little deranged +mentally, had brought him, when a boy of seven, to this German; had +paid for him for a year in advance, and had then left Moscow and been +lost sight of completely.... From time to time there were dark, strange +rumours about him. Eight years later it was known as a positive fact +that he had been drowned in a flood when crossing the Irtish. What had +taken him to Siberia, God knows. Yakov had no other relations; his +mother had long been dead. He was simply left stranded on +Winterkeller's hands. Yakov had, it is true, a distant relation, a +great-aunt; but she was so poor, that she was afraid at first to go to +her nephew, for fear she should have the care of him thrust upon her. +Her fears turned out to be groundless; the kind-hearted German kept +Yakov with him, let him study with his other pupils, fed him (dessert, +however, was not offered him except on Sundays), and rigged him out in +clothes cut out of the cast-off morning-gowns--usually +snuff-coloured--of his mother, an old Livonian lady, still alert and +active in spite of her great age. Owing to all these circumstances, and +owing generally to Yakov's inferior position in the school, his +schoolfellows treated him in rather a casual fashion, looked down upon +him, and used to call him 'mammy's dressing-gown,' the 'nephew of the +mob-cap' (his aunt invariably wore a very peculiar mob-cap with a bunch +of yellow ribbons sticking straight upright, like a globe artichoke, +upon it), and sometimes the 'son of Yermak' (because his father had, +like that hero, been drowned in the Irtish). But in spite of those +nicknames, in spite of his ridiculous garb, and his absolute +destitution, every one was fond of him, and indeed it was impossible +not to be fond of him; a sweeter, nobler nature, I imagine, has never +existed upon earth. He was very good at lessons too. + +When I saw him first, he was sixteen years old, and I was only just +thirteen. I was an exceedingly selfish and spoilt boy; I had grown up +in a rather wealthy house, and so, on entering the school, I lost no +time in making friends with a little prince, an object of special +solicitude to Winterkeller, and with two or three other juvenile +aristocrats; while I gave myself great airs with all the rest. Pasinkov +I did not deign to notice at all. I regarded the long, gawky lad, in a +shapeless coat and short trousers, which showed his coarse thread +stockings, as some sort of page-boy, one of the house-serfs--at best, a +person of the working class. Pasinkov was extremely courteous and +gentle to everybody, though he never sought the society of any one. If +he were rudely treated, he was neither humiliated nor sullen; he simply +withdrew and held himself aloof, with a sort of regretful look, as it +were biding his time. This was just how he behaved with me. About two +months passed. One bright summer day I happened to go out of the +playground after a noisy game of leap-frog, and walking into the garden +I saw Pasinkov sitting on a bench under a high lilac-bush. He was +reading. I glanced at the cover of the book as I passed, and read +_Schiller's Werke_ on the back. I stopped short. + +'Do you mean to say you know German?' I questioned Pasinkov.... + +I feel ashamed to this day as I recall all the arrogance there was in +the very sound of my voice.... Pasinkov softly raised his small but +expressive eyes and looked at me. + +'Yes,' he answered; 'do you?' + +'I should hope so!' I retorted, feeling insulted at the question, and I +was about to go on my way, but something held me back. + +'What is it you are reading of Schiller?' I asked, with the same +haughty insolence. + +'At this moment I am reading "Resignation," a beautiful poem. Would you +like me to read it to you? Come and sit here by me on the bench.' + +I hesitated a little, but I sat down. Pasinkov began reading. He knew + +German far better than I did. He had to explain the meaning of several +lines for me. But already I felt no shame at my ignorance and his +superiority to me. From that day, from the very hour of our reading +together in the garden, in the shade of the lilac-bush, I loved +Pasinkov with my whole soul, I attached myself to him and fell +completely under his sway. + +I have a vivid recollection of his appearance in those days. He changed +very little, however, later on. He was tall, thin, and rather awkwardly +built, with a long back, narrow shoulders, and a hollow chest, which +made him look rather frail and delicate, although as a fact he had +nothing to complain of on the score of health. His large, dome-shaped +head was carried a little on one side; his soft, flaxen hair straggled +in lank locks about his slender neck. His face was not handsome, and +might even have struck one as absurd, owing to the long, full, and +reddish nose, which seemed almost to overhang his wide, straight mouth. +But his open brow was splendid; and when he smiled, his little grey +eyes gleamed with such mild and affectionate goodness, that every one +felt warmed and cheered at heart at the very sight of him. I remember +his voice too, soft and even, with a peculiar sort of sweet huskiness +in it. He spoke, as a rule, little, and with noticeable difficulty. But +when he warmed up, his words flowed freely, and--strange to say!--his +voice grew still softer, his glance seemed turned inward and lost its +fire, while his whole face faintly glowed. On his lips the words +'goodness,' 'truth,' 'life,' 'science,' 'love,' however +enthusiastically they were uttered, never rang with a false note. +Without strain, without effort, he stepped into the realm of the ideal; +his pure soul was at any moment ready to stand before the 'holy shrine +of beauty'; it awaited only the welcoming call, the contact of another +soul.... Pasinkov was an idealist, one of the last idealists whom it +has been my lot to come across. Idealists, as we all know, are all but +extinct in these days; there are none of them, at any rate, among the +young people of to day. So much the worse for the young people of +to-day! + +About three years I spent with Pasinkov, 'soul in soul,' as the saying +is. + +I was the confidant of his first love. With what grateful sympathy and +intentness I listened to his avowal! The object of his passion was a +niece of Winterkeller's, a fair-haired, pretty little German, with a +chubby, almost childish little face, and confidingly soft blue eyes. +She was very kind and sentimental: she loved Mattison, Uhland, and +Schiller, and repeated their verses very sweetly in her timid, musical +voice. Pasinkov's love was of the most platonic. He only saw his +beloved on Sundays, when she used to come and play at forfeits with the +Winterkeller children, and he had very little conversation with her. +But once, when she said to him, 'mein lieber, lieber Herr Jacob!' he +did not sleep all night from excess of bliss. It never even struck him +at the time that she called all his schoolfellows 'mein lieber.' I +remember, too, his grief and dejection when the news suddenly reached +us that Fräulein Frederike--that was her name--was going to be married +to Herr Kniftus, the owner of a prosperous butcher's shop, a very +handsome man, and well educated too; and that she was marrying him, not +simply in submission to parental authority, but positively from love. +It was a bitter blow for Pasinkov, and his sufferings were particularly +severe on the day of the young people's first visit. The former +Fräulein, now Frau, Frederike presented him, once more addressing him +as 'lieber Herr Jacob,' to her husband, who was all splendour from top +to toe; his eyes, his black hair brushed up into a tuft, his forehead +and his teeth, and his coat buttons, and the chain on his waistcoat, +everything, down to the boots on his rather large, turned-out feet, +shone brilliantly. Pasinkov pressed Herr Kniftus's hand, and wished him +(and the wish was sincere, that I am certain) complete and enduring +happiness. This took place in my presence. I remember with what +admiration and sympathy I gazed at Yakov. I thought him a hero!.... And +afterwards, what mournful conversations passed between us. 'Seek +consolation in art,' I said to him. 'Yes,' he answered me; 'and in +poetry.' 'And in friendship,' I added. 'And in friendship,' he +repeated. Oh, happy days!... + +It was a grief to me to part from Pasinkov. Just before I left school, +he had, after prolonged efforts and difficulties, after a +correspondence often amusing, succeeded in obtaining his certificates +of birth and baptism and his passport, and had entered the university. +He still went on living at Winterkeller's expense; but instead of +home-made jackets and breeches, he was provided now with ordinary +attire, in return for lessons on various subjects, which he gave the +younger pupils. Pasinkov was unchanged in his behaviour to me up to the +end of my time at the school, though the difference in our ages began +to be more noticeable, and I, I remember, grew jealous of some of his +new student friends. His influence on me was most beneficial. It was a +pity it did not last longer. To give a single instance: as a child I +was in the habit of telling lies.... In Yakov's presence I could not +bring my tongue to utter an untruth. What I particularly loved was +walking alone with him, or pacing by his side up and down the room, +listening while he, not looking at me, read poetry in his soft, intense +voice. It positively seemed to me that we were slowly, gradually, +getting away from the earth, and soaring away to some radiant, glorious +land of mystery.... I remember one night. We were sitting together +under the same lilac-bush; we were fond of that spot. All our +companions were asleep; but we had softly got up, dressed, fumbling in +the dark, and stealthily stepped out 'to dream.' It was fairly warm out +of doors, but a fresh breeze blew now and then and made us huddle +closer together. We talked, we talked a lot, and with much warmth--so +much so, that we positively interrupted each other, though we did not +argue. In the sky gleamed stars innumerable. Yakov raised his eyes, and +pressing my hand he softly cried out: + + 'Above our heads + The sky with the eternal stars.... + Above the stars their Maker....' + +A thrill of awe ran through me; I felt cold all over, and sank on his +shoulder.... My heart was full.... Where are those raptures? Alas! +where youth is. + +In Petersburg I met Yakov again eight years after. I had only just been +appointed to a position in the service, and some one had got him a +little post in some department. Our meeting was most joyful. I shall +never forget the moment when, sitting alone one day at home, I suddenly +heard his voice in the passage.... + +How I started; with what throbbing at the heart I leaped up and flung +myself on his neck, without giving him time to take off his fur +overcoat and unfasten his scarf! How greedily I gazed at him through +bright, involuntary tears of tenderness! He had grown a little older +during those seven years; lines, delicate as if they had been traced by +a needle, furrowed his brow here and there, his cheeks were a little +more hollow, and his hair was thinner; but he had hardly more beard, +and his smile was just the same as ever; and his laugh, a soft, inward, +as it were breathless laugh, was the same too.... + +Mercy on us! what didn't we talk about that day! ... The favourite +poems we read to one another! I began begging him to move and come and +live with me, but he would not consent. He promised, however, to come +every day to see me, and he kept his word. + +In soul, too, Pasinkov was unchanged. He showed himself just the same +idealist as I had always known him. However rudely life's chill, the +bitter chill of experience, had closed in about him, the tender flower +that had bloomed so early in my friend's heart had kept all its pure +beauty untouched. There was no trace of sadness even, no trace even of +melancholy in him; he was quiet, as he had always been, but +everlastingly glad at heart. + +In Petersburg he lived as in a wilderness, not thinking of the future, +and knowing scarcely any one. I took him to the Zlotnitskys'. He used +to go and see them rather often. Not being self-conscious, he was not +shy, but in their house, as everywhere, he said very little; they liked +him, however. Even the tedious old man, Tatiana Vassilievna's husband, +was friendly to him, and both the silent girls were soon quite at home +with him. + +Sometimes he would arrive, bringing with him in the back pocket of his +coat some book that had just come out, and for a long time would not +make up his mind to read, but would keep stretching his neck out on one +side, like a bird, looking about him as though inquiring, 'could he?' +At last he would establish himself in a corner (he always liked sitting +in corners), would pull out a book and set to reading, at first in a +whisper, then louder and louder, occasionally interrupting himself with +brief criticisms or exclamations. I noticed that Varvara was readier to +sit by him and listen than her sister, though she certainly did not +understand much; literature was not in her line. She would sit opposite +Pasinkov, her chin in her hands, staring at him--not into his eyes, but +into his whole face--and would not utter a syllable, but only heave a +noisy, sudden sigh. Sometimes in the evenings we used to play forfeits, +especially on Sundays and holidays. We were joined on these occasions +by two plump, short young ladies, sisters, and distant relations of the +Zlotnitskys, terribly given to giggling, and a few lads from the +military school, very good-natured, quiet fellows. Pasinkov always used +to sit beside Tatiana Vassilievna, and with her, judge what was to be +done to the one who had to pay a forfeit. + +Sophia did not like the kisses and such demonstrations, with which +forfeits are often paid, while Varvara used to be cross if she had to +look for anything or guess something. The young ladies giggled +incessantly--laughter seemed to bubble up by some magic in them,--I +sometimes felt positively irritated as I looked at them, but Pasinkov +only smiled and shook his head. Old Zlotnitsky took no part in our +games, and even looked at us rather disapprovingly from the door of his +study. Only once, utterly unexpectedly, he came in to us, and proposed +that whoever had next to pay a forfeit should waltz with him; we, of +course, agreed. It happened to be Tatiana Vassilievna who had to pay +the forfeit. She crimsoned all over, and was confused and abashed like +a girl of fifteen; but her husband at once told Sophia to go to the +piano, while he went up to his wife, and waltzed two rounds with her of +the old-fashioned _trois temps_ waltz. I remember how his bilious, +gloomy face, with its never-smiling eyes, kept appearing and +disappearing as he slowly turned round, his stern expression never +relaxing. He waltzed with a long step and a hop, while his wife +pattered rapidly with her feet, and huddled up with her face close to +his chest, as though she were in terror. He led her to her place, bowed +to her, went back to his room and shut the door. Sophia was just +getting up, but Varvara asked her to go on, went up to Pasinkov, and +holding out her hand, with an awkward smile, said, 'Will you like a +turn?' Pasinkov was surprised, but he jumped up--he was always +distinguished by the most delicate courtesy--and took Varvara by the +waist, but he slipped down at the first step, and leaving hold of his +partner at once, rolled right under the pedestal on which the parrot's +cage was standing.... The cage fell, the parrot was frightened and +shrieked, 'Present arms!' Every one laughed.... Zlotnitsky appeared at +his study door, looked grimly at us, and slammed the door to. From that +time forth, one had only to allude to this incident before Varvara, and +she would go off into peals of laughter at once, and look at Pasinkov, +as though anything cleverer than his behaviour on that occasion it was +impossible to conceive. + +Pasinkov was very fond of music. He used often to beg Sophia to play +him something, and to sit on one side listening, and now and then +humming in a thin voice the most pathetic passages. He was particularly +fond of Schubert's Constellation. He used to declare that when he heard +the air played he could always fancy that with the sounds long rays of +azure light came pouring down from on high, straight upon him. To this +day, whenever I look upon a cloudless sky at night, with the softly +quivering stars, I always recall Schubert's melody and Pasinkov.... An +excursion into the country comes back to my mind. We set out, a whole +party of us, in two hired four-wheel carriages, to Pargolovo. I +remember we took the carriages from the Vladimirsky; they were very +old, and painted blue, with round springs, and a wide box-seat, and +bundles of hay inside; the brown, broken-winded horses that drew us +along at a slow trot were each lame in a different leg. We strolled a +long while about the pinewoods round Pargolovo, drank milk out of +earthenware pitchers, and ate wild strawberries and sugar. The weather +was exquisite. Varvara did not care for long walks: she used soon to +get tired; but this time she did not lag behind us. She took off her +hat, her hair came down, her heavy features lighted up, and her cheeks +were flushed. Meeting two peasant girls in the wood, she sat down +suddenly on the ground, called them to her, did not patronise them, but +made them sit down beside her. Sophia looked at them from some distance +with a cold smile, and did not go up to them. She was walking with +Asanov. Zlotnitsky observed that Varvara was a regular hen for sitting. +Varvara got up and walked away. In the course of the walk she several +times went up to Pasinkov, and said to him, 'Yakov Ivanitch, I want to +tell you something,' but what she wanted to tell him--remained unknown. + +But it's high time for me to get back to my story. + + + * * * * * + + +I was glad to see Pasinkov; but when I recalled what I had done the day +before, I felt unutterably ashamed, and I hurriedly turned away to the +wall again. After a brief pause, Yakov asked me if I were unwell. + +'I'm quite well,' I answered through my teeth; 'only my head aches.' + +Yakov made no reply, and took up a book. More than an hour passed by; I +was just coming to the point of confessing everything to Yakov ... +suddenly there was a ring at the outer bell of my flat. + +The door on to the stairs was opened.... I listened.... Asanov was +asking my servant if I were at home. + +Pasinkov got up; he did not care for Asanov, and telling me in a +whisper that he would go and lie down on my bed, he went into my +bedroom. + +A minute later Asanov entered. + +From the very sight of his flushed face, from his brief, cool bow, I +guessed that he had not come to me without some set purpose in his +mind. 'What is going to happen?' I wondered. + +'Sir,' he began, quickly seating himself in an armchair, 'I have come +to you for you to settle a matter of doubt for me.' + +'And that is?' + +'That is: I wish to know whether you are an honest man.' + +I flew into a rage. 'What's the meaning of that?' I demanded. + +'I'll tell you what's the meaning of it,' he retorted, underlining as +it were each word. 'Yesterday I showed you a pocket-book containing +letters from a certain person to me.... To-day you repeated to that +person, with reproach--with reproach, observe--some expressions from +those letters, without having the slightest right to do so. I should +like to know what explanation you can give of this?' + +'And I should like to know what right you have to cross-examine me,' I +answered, trembling with fury and inward shame. + +'You chose to boast of your uncle, of your correspondence; I'd nothing +to do with it. You've got all your letters all right, haven't you?' + +'The letters are all right; but I was yesterday in a condition in which +you could easily----' + +'In short, sir,' I began, speaking intentionally as loud as I could, 'I +beg you to leave me alone, do you hear? I don't want to know anything +about it, and I'm not going to give you any explanation. You can go to +that person for explanations!' I felt that my head was beginning to go +round. + +Asanov turned upon me a look to which he obviously tried to impart an +air of scornful penetration, pulled his moustaches, and got up slowly. + +'I know now what to think,' he observed; 'your face is the best +evidence against you. But I must tell you that that's not the way +honourable people behave.... To read a letter on the sly, and then to +go and worry an honourable girl....' + +'Will you go to the devil!' I shouted, stamping, 'and send me a second; +I don't mean to talk to you.' + +'Kindly refrain from telling me what to do,' Asanov retorted frigidly; +'but I certainly will send a second to you.' + +He went away. I fell on the sofa and hid my face in my hands. Some one +touched me on the shoulder; I moved my hands--before me was standing +Pasinkov. + +'What's this? is it true?' ... he asked me. 'You read another man's +letter?' + +I had not the strength to answer, but I nodded in assent. + +Pasinkov went to the window, and standing with his back to me, said +slowly: 'You read a letter from a girl to Asanov. Who was the girl?' + +'Sophia Zlotnitsky,' I answered, as a prisoner on his trial answers the +judge. + +For a long while Pasinkov did not utter a word. + +'Nothing but passion could to some extent excuse you,' he began at +last. 'Are you in love then with the younger Zlotnitsky?' + +'Yes.' + +Pasinkov was silent again for a little. + +'I thought so. And you went to her to-day and began reproaching +her?...' + +'Yes, yes, yes!...' I articulated desperately. 'Now you can despise +me....' + +Pasinkov walked a couple of times up and down the room. + +'And she loves him?' he queried. + +'She loves him....' + +Pasinkov looked down, and gazed a long while at the floor without +moving. + +'Well, it must be set right,' he began, raising his head,' things can't +be left like this.' + +And he took up his hat. + +'Where are you going?' + +'To Asanov.' + +I jumped up from the sofa. + +'But I won't let you. Good heavens! how can you! what will he think?' + +Pasinkov looked at me. + +'Why, do you think it better to keep this folly up, to bring ruin on +yourself, and disgrace on the girl?' + +'But what are you going to say to Asanov?' + +'I'll try and explain things to him, I'll tell him you beg his +forgiveness ...' + +'But I don't want to apologise to him!' + +'You don't? Why, aren't you in fault?' + +I looked at Pasinkov; the calm and severe, though mournful, expression +of his face impressed me; it was new to me. I made no reply, and sat +down on the sofa. + +Pasinkov went out. + +In what agonies of suspense I waited for his return! With what cruel +slowness the time lingered by! At last he came back--late. + +'Well?' I queried in a timid voice. + +'Thank goodness!' he answered; 'it's all settled.' + +'You have been at Asanov's?' + +'Yes.' + +'Well, and he?--made a great to-do, I suppose?' I articulated with an +effort. + +'No, I can't say that. I expected more ... He ... he's not such a +vulgar fellow as I thought.' + +'Well, and have you seen any one else besides?' I asked, after a brief +pause. + +'I've been at the Zlotnitskys'.' + +'Ah!...' (My heart began to throb. I did not dare look Pasinkov in the +face.) 'Well, and she?' + +'Sophia Nikolaevna is a reasonable, kind-hearted girl.... Yes, she is a +kind-hearted girl. She felt awkward at first, but she was soon at ease. +But our whole conversation only lasted five minutes.' + +'And you ... told her everything ... about me ... everything?' + +'I told her what was necessary.' + +'I shall never be able to go and see them again now!' I pronounced +dejectedly.... + +'Why? No, you can go occasionally. On the contrary, you are absolutely +bound to go and see them, so that nothing should be thought....' + +'Ah, Yakov, you will despise me now!' I cried, hardly keeping back my +tears. + +'Me! Despise you? ...' (His affectionate eyes glowed with love.) +'Despise you ... silly fellow! Don't I see how hard it's been for you, +how you're suffering?' + +He held out his hand to me; I fell on his neck and broke into sobs. + +After a few days, during which I noticed that Pasinkov was in very low +spirits, I made up my mind at last to go to the Zlotnitskys'. What I +felt, as I stepped into their drawing-room, it would be difficult to +convey in words; I remember that I could hardly distinguish the persons +in the room, and my voice failed me. Sophia was no less ill at ease; +she obviously forced herself to address me, but her eyes avoided mine +as mine did hers, and every movement she made, her whole being, +expressed constraint, mingled ... why conceal the truth? with secret +aversion. I tried, as far as possible, to spare her and myself from +such painful sensations. This meeting was happily our last--before her +marriage. A sudden change in my fortunes carried me off to the other +end of Russia, and I bade a long farewell to Petersburg, to the +Zlotnitsky family, and, what was most grievous of all for me, to dear +Yakov Pasinkov. + + +II + +Seven years had passed by. I don't think it necessary to relate all +that happened to me during that period. I moved restlessly about over +Russia, and made my way into the remotest wilds, and thank God I did! +The wilds are not so much to be dreaded as some people suppose, and in +the most hidden places, under the fallen twigs and rotting leaves in +the very heart of the forest, spring up flowers of sweet fragrance. + +One day in spring, as I was passing on some official duties through a +small town in one of the outlying provinces of Eastern Russia, through +the dim little window of my coach I saw standing before a shop in the +square a man whose face struck me as exceedingly familiar. I looked +attentively at the man, and to my great delight recognised him as +Elisei, Pasinkov's servant. + +I at once told the driver to stop, jumped out of the coach, and went up +to Elisei. + +'Hullo, friend!' I began, with difficulty concealing my excitement; +'are you here with your master?' + +'Yes, I'm with my master,' he responded slowly, and then suddenly cried +out: 'Why, sir, is it you? I didn't know you.' + +'Are you here with Yakov Ivanitch?' + +'Yes, sir, with him, to be sure ... whom else would I be with?' + +'Take me to him quickly.' + +'To be sure! to be sure! This way, please, this way ... we're stopping +here at the tavern.' Elisei led me across the square, incessantly +repeating--'Well, now, won't Yakov Ivanitch be pleased!' + +This man, of Kalmuck extraction, and hideous, even savage appearance, +but the kindest-hearted creature and by no means a fool, was +passionately devoted to Pasinkov, and had been his servant for ten +years. + +'Is Yakov Ivanitch quite well?' I asked him. + +Elisei turned his dusky, yellow little face to me. + +'Ah, sir, he's in a poor way ... in a poor way, sir! You won't know his +honour.... He's not long for this world, I'm afraid. That's how it is +we've stopped here, or we had been going on to Odessa for his health.' + +'Where do you come from?' + +'From Siberia, sir.' + +'From Siberia?' + +'Yes, sir. Yakov Ivanitch was sent to a post out there. It was there +his honour got his wound.' + +'Do you mean to say he went into the military service?' + +'Oh no, sir. He served in the civil service.' + +'What a strange thing!' I thought. + +Meanwhile we had reached the tavern, and Elisei ran on in front to +announce me. During the first years of our separation, Pasinkov and I +had written to each other pretty often, but his last letter had reached +me four years before, and since then I had heard nothing of him. + +'Please come up, sir!' Elisei shouted to me from the staircase; 'Yakov +Ivanitch is very anxious to see you.' + +I ran hurriedly up the tottering stairs, went into a dark little +room--and my heart sank.... On a narrow bed, under a fur cloak, pale as +a corpse, lay Pasinkov, and he was stretching out to me a bare, wasted +hand. I rushed up to him and embraced him passionately. + +'Yasha!' I cried at last; 'what's wrong with you?' + +'Nothing,' he answered in a faint voice; 'I'm a bit feeble. What chance +brought you here?' + +I sat down on a chair beside Pasinkov's bed, and, never letting his +hands out of my hands, I began gazing into his face. I recognised the +features I loved; the expression of the eyes and the smile were +unchanged; but what a wreck illness had made of him! + +He noticed the impression he was making on me. + +'It's three days since I shaved,' he observed; 'and, to be sure, I've +not been combed and brushed, but except for that ... I'm not so bad.' + +'Tell me, please, Yasha,' I began; 'what's this Elisei's been telling +me ... you were wounded?' + +'Ah! yes, it's quite a history,' he replied. 'I'll tell you it later. +Yes, I was wounded, and only fancy what by?--an arrow.' + +'An arrow?' + +'Yes, an arrow; only not a mythological one, not Cupid's arrow, but a +real arrow of very flexible wood, with a sharply-pointed tip at one +end.... A very unpleasant sensation is produced by such an arrow, +especially when it sticks in one's lungs.' + +'But however did it come about? upon my word!...' + +'I'll tell you how it happened. You know there always was a great deal +of the absurd in my life. Do you remember my comical correspondence +about getting my passport? Well, I was wounded in an absurd fashion +too. And if you come to think of it, what self-respecting person in our +enlightened century would permit himself to be wounded by an arrow? And +not accidentally--observe--not at sports of any sort, but in a battle.' + +'But you still don't tell me ...' + +'All right, wait a minute,' he interrupted. 'You know that soon after +you left Petersburg I was transferred to Novgorod. I was a good time at +Novgorod, and I must own I was bored there, though even there I came +across one creature....' (He sighed.) ... 'But no matter about that +now; two years ago I got a capital little berth, some way off, it's +true, in the Irkutsk province, but what of that! It seems as though my +father and I were destined from birth to visit Siberia. A splendid +country, Siberia! Rich, fertile--every one will tell you the same. I +liked it very much there. The natives were put under my rule; they're a +harmless lot of people; but as my ill-luck would have it, they took it +into their heads, a dozen of them, not more, to smuggle in contraband +goods. I was sent to arrest them. Arrest them I did, but one of them, +crazy he must have been, thought fit to defend himself, and treated me +to the arrow.... I almost died of it; however, I got all right again. +Now, here I am going to get completely cured.... The government--God +give them all good health!--have provided the cash.' + +Pasinkov let his head fall back on the pillow, exhausted, and ceased +speaking. A faint flush suffused his cheeks. He closed his eyes. + +'He can't talk much,' Elisei, who had not left the room, murmured in an +undertone. + +A silence followed; nothing was heard but the sick man's painful +breathing. + +'But here,' he went on, opening his eyes, 'I've been stopping a +fortnight in this little town.... I caught cold, I suppose. The +district doctor here is attending me--you'll see him; he seems to know +his business. I'm awfully glad it happened so, though, or how should we +have met?' (And he took my hand. His hand, which had just before been +cold as ice, was now burning hot.) 'Tell me something about yourself,' +he began again, throwing the cloak back off his chest. 'You and I +haven't seen each other since God knows when.' + +I hastened to carry out his wish, so as not to let him talk, and +started giving an account of myself. He listened to me at first with +great attention, then asked for drink, and then began closing his eyes +again and turning his head restlessly on the pillow. I advised him to +have a little nap, adding that I should not go on further till he was +well again, and that I should establish myself in a room beside him. +'It's very nasty here ...' Pasinkov was beginning, but I stopped his +mouth, and went softly out. Elisei followed me. + +'What is it, Elisei? Why, he's dying, isn't he?' I questioned the +faithful servant. + +Elisei simply made a gesture with his hand, and turned away. + +Having dismissed my driver, and rapidly moved my things into the next +room, I went to see whether Pasinkov was asleep. At the door I ran up +against a tall man, very fat and heavily built. His face, pock-marked +and puffy, expressed laziness--and nothing else; his tiny little eyes +seemed, as it were, glued up, and his lips looked polished, as though +he were just awake. + +'Allow me to ask,' I questioned him, 'are you not the doctor?' + +The fat man looked at me, seeming with an effort to lift his +overhanging forehead with his eyebrows. + +'Yes, sir,' he responded at last. + +'Do me the favour, Mr. Doctor, won't you, please, to come this way into +my room? Yakov Ivanitch, is, I believe, now asleep. I am a friend of +his and should like to have a little talk with you about his illness, +which makes me very uneasy.' + +'Very good,' answered the doctor, with an expression which seemed to +try and say, 'Why talk so much? I'd have come anyway,' and he followed +me. + +'Tell me, please,' I began, as soon as he had dropped into a chair, 'is +my friend's condition serious? What do you think?' + +'Yes,' answered the fat man, tranquilly. + +'And... is it very serious?' + +'Yes, it's serious.' + +'So that he may...even die?' + +'He may.' + +I confess I looked almost with hatred at the fat man. + +'Good heavens!' I began; 'we must take some steps, call a consultation, +or something. You know we can't... Mercy on us!' + +'A consultation?--quite possible; why not? It's possible. Call in Ivan +Efremitch....' + +The doctor spoke with difficulty, and sighed continually. His stomach +heaved perceptibly when he spoke, as it were emphasising each word. + +'Who is Ivan Efremitch?' + +'The parish doctor.' + +'Shouldn't we send to the chief town of the province? What do you +think? There are sure to be good doctors there.' + +'Well! you might.' + +'And who is considered the best doctor there?' + +'The best? There was a doctor Kolrabus there ... only I fancy he's been +transferred somewhere else. Though I must own there's no need really to +send.' + +'Why so?' + +'Even the best doctor will be of no use to your friend.' + +'Why, is he so bad?' + +'Yes, he's run down.' 'In what way precisely is he ill?' + +'He received a wound.... The lungs were affected in consequence ... and +then he's taken cold too, and fever was set up ... and so on. And +there's no reserve force; a man can't get on, you know yourself, with +no reserve force.' + +We were both silent for a while. + +'How about trying homoeopathy?...' said the fat man, with a sidelong +glance at me. + +'Homoeopathy? Why, you're an allopath, aren't you?' + +'What of that? Do you think I don't understand homoeopathy? I +understand it as well as the other! Why, the chemist here among us +treats people homeopathically, and he has no learned degree whatever.' + +'Oh,' I thought, 'it's a bad look-out!...' + +'No, doctor,' I observed, 'you had better treat him according to your +usual method.' + +'As you please.' + +The fat man got up and heaved a sigh. + +'You are going to him? 'I asked. + +'Yes, I must have a look at him.' + +And he went out. + +I did not follow him; to see him at the bedside of my poor, sick friend +was more than I could stand. I called my man and gave him orders to +drive at once to the chief town of the province, to inquire there for +the best doctor, and to bring him without fail. There was a slight +noise in the passage. I opened the door quickly. + +The doctor was already coming out of Pasinkov's room. + +'Well?' I questioned him in a whisper. + +'It's all right. I have prescribed a mixture.' + +'I have decided, doctor, to send to the chief town. I have no doubt of +your skill, but as you're aware, two heads are better than one.' + +'Well, that's very praiseworthy!' responded the fat man, and he began +to descend the staircase. He was obviously tired of me. + +I went in to Pasinkov. + +'Have you seen the local Aesculapius?' he asked. + +'Yes,' I answered. + +'What I like about him,' remarked Pasinkov, 'is his astounding +composure. A doctor ought to be phlegmatic, oughtn't he? It's so +encouraging for the patient.' + +I did not, of course, try to controvert this. + +Towards the evening, Pasinkov, contrary to my expectations, seemed +better. He asked Elisei to set the samovar, announced that he was going +to regale me with tea, and drink a small cup himself, and he was +noticeably more cheerful. I tried, though, not to let him talk, and +seeing that he would not be quiet, I asked him if he would like me to +read him something. 'Just as at Winterkeller's--do you remember?' he +answered. 'If you will, I shall be delighted. What shall we read? Look, +there are my books in the window.'... + +I went to the window and took up the first book that my hand chanced +upon.... + +'What is it?' he asked. + +'Lermontov.' + +'Ah, Lermontov! Excellent! Pushkin is greater, no doubt.... Do you +remember: "Once more the storm-clouds gather close Above me in the +perfect calm" ... or, "For the last time thy image sweet in thought I +dare caress." Ah! marvellous! marvellous! But Lermontov's fine too. +Well, I'll tell you what, dear boy: you take the book, open it by +chance, and read what you find!' + +I opened the book, and was disconcerted; I had chanced upon 'The Last +Will.' I tried to turn over the page, but Pasinkov noticed my action +and said hurriedly: 'No, no, no, read what turned up.' + +There was no getting out of it; I read 'The Last Will.' + +[Footnote: THE LAST WILL + + Alone with thee, brother, + I would wish to be; + On earth, so they tell me, + I have not long to stay, + Soon you will go home: + See that ... But nay! for my fate + To speak the truth, no one + Is very greatly troubled. + + But if any one asks ... + + Well, whoever may ask, + Tell them that through the breast + I was shot by a bullet; + That I died honourably for the Tsar, + That our doctors are not much good, + And that to my native land + I send a humble greeting. + + My father and mother, hardly + Will you find living.... + I'll own I should be sorry + That they should grieve for me.] + +'Splendid thing!' said Pasinkov, directly I had finished the last +verse. 'Splendid thing! + +But, it's queer,' he added, after a brief pause, 'it's queer you should +have chanced just on that.... Queer.' + +I began to read another poem, but Pasinkov was not listening to me; he +looked away, and twice he repeated again: 'Queer!' + +I let the book drop on my knees. + +'"There is a girl, their neighbour,"' he whispered, and turning to me +he asked--'I say, do you remember Sophia Zlotnitsky?' + +I turned red. + +'I should think I did!' + +'She was married, I suppose?...' + +'To Asanov, long, long ago. I wrote to you about it.' + + + * * * * * + + + But if either of them is living, + Say I am lazy about writing, + That our regiment has been sent forward, + And that they must not expect me home. + + There is a girl, their neighbour.... + As you remember, it's long + Since we parted.... She will not + Ask for me.... All the same, + You tell her all the truth, + Don't spare her empty heart-- + Let her weep a little.... + It will not hurt her much! + +'To be sure, to be sure, so you did. Did her father forgive her in the +end?' + +'He forgave her; but he would not receive Asanov.' + +'Obstinate old fellow! Well, and are they supposed to be happy?' + +'I don't know, really... I fancy they 're happy. They live in the +country, in ---- province. I've never seen them, though I have been +through their parts.' + +'And have they any children?' + +'I think so.... By the way, Pasinkov?...' I began questioningly. + +He glanced at me. + +'Confess--do you remember, you were unwilling to answer my question at +the time--did you tell her I cared for her?' + +'I told her everything, the whole truth.... I always told her the +truth. To be hypocritical with her would have been a sin!' + +Pasinkov was silent for a while. + +'Come, tell me,' he began again: 'did you soon get over caring for her, +or not?' + +'Not very soon, but I got over it. What's the good of sighing in vain?' + +Pasinkov turned over, facing me. + +'Well, I, brother,' he began--and his lips were quivering--'am no match +for you there; I've not got over caring for her to this day.' + +'What!' I cried in indescribable amazement; 'did you love her?' + +'I loved her,' said Pasinkov slowly, and he put both hands behind his +head. 'How I loved her, God only knows. I've never spoken of it to any +one, to any one in the world, and I never meant to ... but there! "On +earth, so they tell me, I have not long to stay." ... What does it +matter?' + +Pasinkov's unexpected avowal so utterly astonished me that I could +positively say nothing. I could only wonder, 'Is it possible? how was +it I never suspected it?' + +'Yes,' he went on, as though speaking to himself, 'I loved her. I never +ceased to love her even when I knew her heart was Asanov's. But how +bitter it was for me to know that! If she had loved you, I should at +least have rejoiced for you; but Asanov.... How did he make her care +for him? It was just his luck! And change her feelings, cease to care, +she could not! A true heart does not change....' + +I recalled Asanov's visit after the fatal dinner, Pasinkov's +intervention, and I could not help flinging up my hands in +astonishment. + +'You learnt it all from me, poor fellow!' I cried; 'and you undertook +to go and see her then!' + +'Yes,' Pasinkov began again; 'that explanation with her ... I shall +never forget it.' It was then I found out, then I realised the meaning +of the word I had chosen for myself long before: resignation. But still +she has remained my constant dream, my ideal.... And he's to be pitied +who lives without an ideal!' + +I looked at Pasinkov; his eyes, fastened, as it were, on the distance, +shone with feverish brilliance. + +'I loved her,' he went on, 'I loved her, her, calm, true, +unapproachable, incorruptible; when she went away, I was almost mad +with grief.... Since then I have never cared for any one.'... + +And suddenly turning, he pressed his face into the pillow, and began +quietly weeping. + +I jumped up, bent over him, and began trying to comfort him.... + +'It's no matter,' he said, raising his head and shaking back his hair; +'it's nothing; I felt a little bitter, a little sorry ... for myself, +that is.... But it's all no matter. It's all the fault of those verses. +Read me something else, more cheerful.' + +I took up Lermontov and began hurriedly turning over the pages; but, as +fate would have it, I kept coming across poems likely to agitate +Pasinkov again. At last I read him 'The Gifts of Terek.' + +'Jingling rhetoric!' said my poor friend, with the tone of a preceptor; +'but there are fine passages. Since I saw you, brother, I've tried my +hand at poetry, and began one poem--"The Cup of Life"--but it didn't +come off! It's for us, brother, to appreciate, not to create.... But +I'm rather tired; I'll sleep a little--what do you say? What a splendid +thing sleep is, come to think of it! All our life's a dream, and the +best thing in it is dreaming too.' + +'And poetry?' I queried. + +'Poetry's a dream too, but a dream of paradise.' + +Pasinkov closed his eyes. + +I stood for a little while at his bedside. I did not think he would get +to sleep quickly, but soon his breathing became more even and +prolonged. I went away on tiptoe, turned into my own room, and lay down +on the sofa. For a long while I mused on what Pasinkov had told me, +recalled many things, wondered; at last I too fell asleep.... + +Some one touched me; I started up; before me stood Elisei. + +'Come in to my master,' he said. + +I got up at once. + +'What's the matter with him?' + +'He's delirious.' + +'Delirious? And hasn't it ever been so before with him?' + +'Yes, he was delirious last night, too; only to-day it is something +terrible.' + +I went to Pasinkov's room. He was not lying down, but sitting up in +bed, his whole body bent forward. He was slowly gesticulating with his +hands, smiling and talking, talking all the time in a weak, hollow +voice, like the whispering of rushes. His eyes were wandering. The +gloomy light of a night light, set on the floor, and shaded off by a +book, lay, an unmoving patch on the ceiling; Pasinkov's face seemed +paler than ever in the half darkness. + +I went up to him, called him by his name--he did not answer. I began +listening to his whispering: he was talking of Siberia, of its forests. +From time to time there was sense in his ravings. + +'What trees!' he whispered; 'right up to the sky. What frost on them! +Silver ... snowdrifts.... And here are little tracks ... that's a +hare's leaping, that's a white weasel... No, it's my father running +with my papers. Here he is!... Here he is! Must go; the moon is +shining. Must go, look for my papers.... Ah! A flower, a crimson +flower--there's Sophia.... Oh, the bells are ringing, the frost is +crackling.... Ah, no; it's the stupid bullfinches hopping in the +bushes, whistling.... See, the redthroats! Cold.... Ah! here's +Asanov.... Oh yes, of course, he's a cannon, a copper cannon, and his +gun-carriage is green. That's how it is he's liked. Is it a star has +fallen? No, it's an arrow flying.... Ah, how quickly, and straight into +my heart!... Who shot it? You, Sonitchka?' + +He bent his head and began muttering disconnected words. I glanced at +Elisei; he was standing, his hands clasped behind his back, gazing +ruefully at his master. + +'Ah, brother, so you've become a practical person, eh?' he asked +suddenly, turning upon me such a clear, such a fully conscious glance, +that I could not help starting and was about to reply, but he went on +at once: 'But I, brother, have not become a practical person, I +haven't, and that's all about it! A dreamer I was born, a dreamer! +Dreaming, dreaming.... What is dreaming? Sobakevitch's peasant--that's +dreaming. Ugh!...' + +Almost till morning Pasinkov wandered in delirium; at last he gradually +grew quieter, sank back on the pillow, and dozed off. I went back into +my room. Worn out by the cruel night, I slept soundly. + +Elisei again waked me. + +'Ah, sir!' he said in a shaking voice, 'I do believe Yakov Ivanitch is +dying....' + +I ran in to Pasinkov. He was lying motionless. In the light of the +coming day he looked already a corpse. He recognised me. + +'Good-bye,' he whispered; 'greet her for me, I'm dying....' + +'Yasha!' I cried; 'nonsense! you are going to live....' + +'No, no! I am dying.... Here, take this as a keepsake.' ... (He pointed +to his breast.) ... + +'What's this?' he began suddenly; 'look: the sea ... all golden, and +blue isles upon it, marble temples, palm-trees, incense....' + +He ceased speaking ... stretched.... + +Within half an hour he was no more. Elisei flung himself weeping at his +feet. I closed his eyes. + +On his neck there was a little silken amulet on a black cord. I took +it. + +Three days afterwards he was buried.... One of the noblest hearts was +hidden for ever in the grave. I myself threw the first handful of earth +upon him. + + +III + +Another year and a half passed by. Business obliged me to visit Moscow. +I took up my quarters in one of the good hotels there. One day, as I +was passing along the corridor, I glanced at the black-board with the +list of visitors staying in the hotel, and almost cried out aloud with +astonishment. Opposite the number 12 stood, distinctly written in +chalk, the name, Sophia Nikolaevna Asanova. Of late I had chanced to +hear a good deal that was bad about her husband. I had learned that he +was addicted to drink and to gambling, had ruined himself, and was +generally misconducting himself. His wife was spoken of with +respect.... In some excitement I went back to my room. The passion, +that had long long ago grown cold, began as it were to stir within my +heart, and it throbbed. I resolved to go and see Sophia Nikolaevna. +'Such a long time has passed since the day we parted,' I thought, 'she +has, most likely, forgotten everything there was between us in those +days.' + +I sent Elisei, whom I had taken into my service after the death of +Pasinkov, with my visiting-card to her door, and told him to inquire +whether she was at home, and whether I might see her. Elisei quickly +came back and announced that Sophia Nikolaevna was at home and would +see me. + +I went at once to Sophia Nikolaevna. When I went in, she was standing +in the middle of the room, taking leave of a tall stout gentleman. + +'As you like,' he was saying in a rich, mellow voice; 'he is not a +harmless person, he's a useless person; and every useless person in a +well-ordered society is harmful, harmful, harmful!' + +With those words the tall gentleman went out. Sophia Nikolaevna turned +to me. + +'How long it is since we met!' she said. 'Sit down, please....' + +We sat down. I looked at her.... To see again after long absence the +features of a face once dear, perhaps beloved, to recognise them, and +not recognise them, as though across the old, unforgotten countenance a +new one, like, but strange, were looking out at one; instantaneously, +almost unconsciously, to note the traces time has laid upon it;--all +this is rather melancholy. 'I too must have changed in the same way,' +each is inwardly thinking.... + +Sophia Nikolaevna did not, however, look much older; though, when I had +seen her last, she was sixteen, and that was nine years ago. + +Her features had become still more correct and severe; as of old, they +expressed sincerity of feeling and firmness; but in place of her former +serenity, a sort of secret ache and anxiety could be discerned in them. +Her eyes had grown deeper and darker. She had begun to show a likeness +to her mother.... + +Sophia Nikolaevna was the first to begin the conversation. + +'We are both changed,' she began. 'Where have you been all this time?' + +'I've been a rolling stone,' I answered. 'And have you been living in +the country all the while?' + +'For the most part I've been in the country. I'm only here now for a +little time.' + +'How are your parents?' + +'My mother is dead, but my father is still in Petersburg; my brother's +in the service; Varia lives with him.' + +'And your husband?' + +'My husband,' she said in a rather hurried voice--'he's just now in +South Russia for the horse fairs. He was always very fond of horses, +you know, and he has started stud stables ... and so, on that account +... he's buying horses now.' + +At that instant there walked into the room a little girl of eight years +old, with her hair in a pigtail, with a very keen and lively little +face, and large dark grey eyes. On seeing me, she at once drew back her +little foot, dropped a hasty curtsey, and went up to Sophia Nikolaevna. + +'This is my little daughter; let me introduce her to you,' said Sophia + +Nikolaevna, putting one finger under the little girl's round chin; 'she +would not stop at home--she persuaded me to bring her with me.' + +The little girl scanned me with her rapid glance and faintly dropped +her eyelids. + +'She is a capital little person,' Sophia Nikolaevna went on: 'there's +nothing she's afraid of. And she's good at her lessons; I must say that +for her.' + +'Comment se nomme monsieur?' the little girl asked in an undertone, +bending over to her mother. + +Sophia Nikolaevna mentioned my name. + +The little girl glanced at me again. + +'What is your name?' I asked her. + +'My name is Lidia,' answered the little girl, looking me boldly in the +face. + +'I expect they spoil you,' I observed. + +'Who spoil me?' + +'Who? everyone, I expect; your parents to begin with.' + +(The little girl looked, without a word, at her mother.) 'I can fancy +Konstantin Alexandritch,' I was going on ... + +'Yes, yes,' Sophia Nikolaevna interposed, while her little daughter +kept her attentive eyes fastened upon her; 'my husband, of course--he +is very fond of children....' + +A strange expression flitted across Lidia's clever little face. There +was a slight pout about her lips; she hung her head. + +'Tell me,' Sophia Nikolaevna added hurriedly; 'you are here on +business, I expect?' + +'Yes, I am here on business.... And are you too?' + +'Yes.... In my husband's absence, you understand, I'm obliged to look +after business matters.' + +'Maman!' Lidia was beginning. + +'Quoi, mon enfant?' + +'Non--rien.... Je te dirai après.' + +Sophia Nikolaevna smiled and shrugged her shoulders. + +'Tell me, please,' Sophia Nikolaevna began again; 'do you remember, you +had a friend ... what was his name? he had such a good-natured face ... +he was always reading poetry; such an enthusiastic--' + +'Not Pasinkov?' + +'Yes, yes, Pasinkov ... where is he now?' + +'He is dead.' + +'Dead?' repeated Sophia Nikolaevna; 'what a pity!...' + +'Have I seen him?' the little girl asked in a hurried whisper. + +'No, Lidia, you've never seen him.--What a pity!' repeated Sophia +Nikolaevna. + +'You regret him ...' I began; 'what if you had known him, as I knew +him?... But, why did you speak of him, may I ask?' + +'Oh, I don't know....' (Sophia Nikolaevna dropped her eyes.) 'Lidia,' +she added; 'run away to your nurse.' + +'You'll call me when I may come back?' asked the little girl. + +'Yes.' + +The little girl went away. Sophia Nikolaevna turned to me. + +'Tell me, please, all you know about Pasinkov.' I began telling her his +story. I sketched in brief words the whole life of my friend; tried, as +far as I was able, to give an idea of his soul; described his last +meeting with me and his end. + +'And a man like that,' I cried, as I finished my story--'has left us, +unnoticed, almost unappreciated! But that's no great loss. What is the +use of man's appreciation? What pains me, what wounds me, is that such +a man, with such a loving and devoted heart, is dead without having +once known the bliss of love returned, without having awakened interest +in one woman's heart worthy of him!... Such as I may well know nothing +of such happiness; we don't deserve it; but Pasinkov!... And yet +haven't I met thousands of men in my life, who could not compare with +him in any respect, who were loved? Must one believe that some faults +in a man--conceit, for instance, or frivolity--are essential to gain a +woman's devotion? Or does love fear perfection, the perfection possible +on earth, as something strange and terrible?' + +Sophia Nikolaevna heard me to the end, without taking her stern, +searching eyes off me, without moving her lips; only her eyebrows +contracted from time to time. + +'What makes you suppose,' she observed after a brief silence, 'that no +woman ever loved your friend?' + +'Because I know it, know it for a fact.' + +Sophia Nikolaevna seemed about to say something, but she stopped. She +seemed to be struggling with herself. + +'You are mistaken,' she began at last; 'I know a woman who loved your +dead friend passionately; she loves him and remembers him to this day +... and the news of his death will be a fearful blow for her.' + +'Who is this woman? may I know?' + +'My sister, Varia.' + +'Varvara Nikolaevna!' I cried in amazement. + +'Yes.' + +'What? Varvara Nikolaevna?' I repeated, 'that...' + +'I will finish your sentence,' Sophia Nikolaevna took me up; 'that girl +you thought so cold, so listless and indifferent, loved your friend; +that is why she has never married and never will marry. Till this day +no one has known of this but me; Varia would die before she would +betray her secret. In our family we know how to suffer in silence.' + +I looked long and intently at Sophia Nikolaevna, involuntarily +pondering on the bitter significance of her last words. + +'You have surprised me,' I observed at last. 'But do you know, Sophia +Nikolaevna, if I were not afraid of recalling disagreeable memories, I +might surprise you too....' + +'I don't understand you,' she rejoined slowly, and with some +embarrassment. + +'You certainly don't understand me,' I said, hastily getting up; 'and +so allow me, instead of verbal explanation, to send you something ...' + +'But what is it?' she inquired. + +'Don't be alarmed, Sophia Nikolaevna, it's nothing to do with me.' + +I bowed, and went back to my room, took out the little silken bag I had +taken off Pasinkov, and sent it to Sophia Nikolaevna with the following +note-- + +'This my friend wore always on his breast and died with it on him. In +it is the only note you ever wrote him, quite insignificant in its +contents; you can read it. He wore it because he loved you +passionately; he confessed it to me only the day before his death. Now, +when he is dead, why should you not know that his heart too was yours?' + +Elisei returned quickly and brought me back the relic. + +'Well?' I queried; 'didn't she send any message?' + +'No.' + +I was silent for a little. + +'Did she read my note?' + +'No doubt she did; the maid took it to her.' + +'Unapproachable,' I thought, remembering Pasinkov's last words. 'All +right, you can go,' I said aloud. + +Elisei smiled somewhat queerly and did not go. + +'There's a girl ...' he began, 'here to see you.' + +'What girl?' + +Elisei hesitated. + +'Didn't my master say anything to you?' + +'No.... What is it?' + +'When my master was in Novgorod,' he went on, fingering the door-post, +'he made acquaintance, so to say, with a girl. So here is this girl, +wants to see you. I met her the other day in the street. I said to her, +"Come along; if the master allows it, I'll let you see him." + +'Ask her in, ask her in, of course. But ... what is she like?' + +'An ordinary girl... working class... Russian.' + +'Did Yakov Ivanitch care for her?' + +'Well, yes ... he was fond of her. And she...when she heard my master +was dead, she was terribly upset. She's a good sort of girl.' + +'Ask her in, ask her in.' + +Elisei went out and at once came back. He was followed by a girl in a +striped cotton gown, with a dark kerchief on her head, that half hid +her face. On seeing me, she was much taken aback and turned away. + +'What's the matter?' Elisei said to her; 'go on, don't be afraid.' + +I went up to her and took her by the hand. + +'What is your name?' I asked her. + +'Masha,' she replied in a soft voice, stealing a glance at me. + +She looked about two- or three-and-twenty; she had a round, rather +simple-looking, but pleasant face, soft cheeks, mild blue eyes, and +very pretty and clean little hands. She was tidily dressed. + +'You knew Yakov Ivanitch?' I pursued. + +'I used to know him,' she said, tugging at the ends of her kerchief, +and the tears stood in her eyes. + +I asked her to sit down. + +She sat down at once on the edge of a chair, without any affectation of +ceremony. Elisei went out. + +'You became acquainted with him in Novgorod?' + +'Yes, in Novgorod,' she answered, clasping her hands under her +kerchief. 'I only heard the day before yesterday, from Elisei +Timofeitch, of his death. Yakov Ivanitch, when he went away to Siberia, +promised to write to me, and twice he did write, and then he wrote no +more. I would have followed him out to Siberia, but he didn't wish it.' + +'Have you relations in Novgorod?' + +'Yes.' + +'Did you live with them?' + +'I used to live with mother and my married sister; but afterwards +mother was cross with me, and my sister was crowded up, too; she has a +lot of children: and so I moved. I always rested my hopes on Yakov +Ivanitch, and longed for nothing but to see him, and he was always good +to me--you can ask Elisei Timofeitch.' + +Masha paused. + +'I have his letters,' she went on. 'Here, look.' She took several +letters out of her pocket, and handed them to me. 'Read them,' she +added. + +I opened one letter and recognised Pasinkov's hand. + +'Dear Masha!' (he wrote in large, distinct letters) 'you leaned your +little head against my head yesterday, and when I asked why you do so, +you told me--"I want to hear what you are thinking." I'll tell you what +I was thinking; I was thinking how nice it would be for Masha to learn +to read and write! She could make out this letter ...' + +Masha glanced at the letter. + +'That he wrote me in Novgorod,' she observed, 'when he was just going +to teach me to read. Look at the others. There's one from Siberia. +Here, read this.' + +I read the letters. They were very affectionate, even tender. In one of +them, the first one from Siberia, Pasinkov called Masha his best +friend, promised to send her the money for the journey to Siberia, and +ended with the following words--'I kiss your pretty little hands; the +girls here have not hands like yours; and their heads are no match for +yours, nor their hearts either.... Read the books I gave you, and think +of me, and I'll not forget you. You are the only, only girl that ever +cared for me; and so I want to belong only to you....' + +'I see he was very much attached to you,' I said, giving the letters +back to her. + +'He was very fond of me,' replied Masha, putting the letters carefully +into her pocket, and the tears flowed slowly down her cheeks. 'I always +trusted in him; if the Lord had vouchsafed him long life, he would not +have abandoned me. God grant him His heavenly peace!'... + +She wiped her eyes with a corner of her kerchief. + +'Where are you living now?' I inquired. + +'I'm here now, in Moscow; I came here with my mistress, but now I'm out +of a place. I did go to Yakov Ivanitch's aunt, but she is very poor +herself. Yakov Ivanitch used often to talk of you,' she added, getting +up and bowing; 'he always loved you and thought of you. I met Elisei +Timofeitch the day before yesterday, and wondered whether you wouldn't +be willing to assist me, as I'm out of a place just now....' + +'With the greatest pleasure, Maria ... let me ask, what's your name +from your father?' + +'Petrovna,' answered Masha, and she cast down her eyes. + +'I will do anything for you I can, Maria Petrovna,' I continued; 'I am +only sorry that I am a visitor here, and know few good families.' + +Masha sighed. + +'If I could get a situation of some sort ... I can't cut out, but I can +sew, so I'm always doing sewing ... and I can look after children too.' + +'Give her money,' I thought; 'but how's one to do it?' + +'Listen, Maria Petrovna,' I began, not without faltering; 'you must, +please, excuse me, but you know from Pasinkov's own words what a friend +of his I was ... won't you allow me to offer you--for the immediate +present--a small sum?' ... + +Masha glanced at me. + +'What?' she asked. + +'Aren't you in want of money?' I said. + +Masha flushed all over and hung her head. + +'What do I want with money?' she murmured; 'better get me a situation.' + +'I will try to get you a situation, but I can't answer for it for +certain; but you ought not to make any scruple, really ... I'm not like +a stranger to you, you know.... Accept this from me, in memory of our +friend....' + +I turned away, hurriedly pulled a few notes out of my pocket-book, and +handed them to her. + +Masha was standing motionless, her head still more downcast. + +'Take it,' I persisted. + +She slowly raised her eyes to me, looked me in the face mournfully, +slowly drew her pale hand from under her kerchief and held it out to +me. + +I laid the notes in her cold fingers. Without a word, she hid the hand +again under her kerchief, and dropped her eyes. + +'In future, Maria Petrovna,' I resumed, 'if you should be in want of +anything, please apply directly to me. I will give you my address.' + +'I humbly thank you,' she said, and after a short pause she added: 'He +did not speak to you of me?' + +'I only met him the day before his death, Maria Petrovna. But I'm not +sure ... I believe he did say something.' + +Masha passed her hand over her hair, pressed her cheek lightly, thought +a moment, and saying 'Good-bye,' walked out of the room. + +I sat at the table and fell into bitter musings. This Masha, her +relations with Pasinkov, his letters, the hidden love of Sophia +Nikolaevna's sister for him.... 'Poor fellow! poor fellow!' I +whispered, with a catching in my breath. I thought of all Pasinkov's +life, his childhood, his youth, Fräulein Frederike.... 'Well,' I +thought, 'much fate gave to thee! much cause for joy!' + +Next day I went again to see Sophia Nikolaevna. I was kept waiting in +the ante-room, and when I entered, Lidia was already seated by her +mother. I understood that Sophia Nikolaevna did not wish to renew the +conversation of the previous day. + +We began to talk--I really don't remember what about--about the news of +the town, public affairs.... Lidia often put in her little word, and +looked slily at me. An amusing air of importance had suddenly become +apparent on her mobile little visage.... The clever little girl must +have guessed that her mother had intentionally stationed her at her +side. + +I got up and began taking leave. Sophia Nikolaevna conducted me to the +door. + +'I made you no answer yesterday,' she said, standing still in the +doorway; 'and, indeed, what answer was there to make? Our life is not +in our own hands; but we all have one anchor, from which one can never, +without one's own will, be torn--a sense of duty.' + +Without a word I bowed my head in sign of assent, and parted from the +youthful Puritan. + +All that evening I stayed at home, but I did not think of her; I kept +thinking and thinking of my dear, never-to-be-forgotten Pasinkov--the +last of the idealists; and emotions, mournful and tender, pierced with +sweet anguish into my soul, rousing echoes on the strings of a heart +not yet quite grown old.... Peace to your ashes, unpractical man, +simple-hearted idealist! and God grant to all practical men--to whom +you were always incomprehensible, and who, perhaps, will laugh even now +over you in the grave--God grant to them to experience even a hundredth +part of those pure delights in which, in spite of fate and men, your +poor and unambitious life was so rich! + + + + +ANDREI KOLOSOV + + +In a small, decently furnished room several young men were sitting +before the fire. The winter evening was only just beginning; the +samovar was boiling on the table, the conversation had hardly taken a +definite turn, but passed lightly from one subject to another. They +began discussing exceptional people, and in what way they differed from +ordinary people. Every one expounded his views to the best of his +abilities; they raised their voices and began to be noisy. A small, +pale man, after listening long to the disquisitions of his companions, +sipping tea and smoking a cigar the while, suddenly got up and +addressed us all (I was one of the disputants) in the following +words:-- + +'Gentlemen! all your profound remarks are excellent in their own way, +but unprofitable. + +Every one, as usual, hears his opponent's views, and every one retains +his own convictions. But it's not the first time we have met, nor the +first time we have argued, and so we have probably by now had ample +opportunity for expressing our own views and learning those of others. +Why, then, do you take so much trouble?' + +Uttering these words, the small man carelessly flicked the ash off his +cigar into the fireplace, dropped his eyelids, and smiled serenely. We +all ceased speaking. + +'Well, what are we to do then, according to you?' said one of us; 'play +cards, or what? go to sleep? break up and go home?' + +'Playing cards is agreeable, and sleep's always salutary,' retorted the +small man; 'but it's early yet to break up and go home. You didn't +understand me, though. Listen: I propose, if it comes to that, that +each of you should describe some exceptional personality, tell us of +any meeting you may have had with any remarkable man. I can assure you +even the feeblest description has far more sense in it than the finest +argument.' + +We pondered. + +'It's a strange thing,' observed one of us, an inveterate jester; +'except myself I don't know a single exceptional person, and with my +life you are all, I fancy, familiar already. However, if you insist--' + +'No!' cried another, 'we don't! But, I tell you what,' he added, +addressing the small man, 'you begin. You have put a stopper on all of +us, you're the person to fill the gap. Only mind, if we don't care for +your story, we shall hiss you.' + +'If you like,' answered the small man. He stood close to the fire; we +sat round him and kept quiet. The small man looked at all of us, +glanced at the ceiling, and began as follows:-- + +'Ten years ago, my dear friends, I was a student at Moscow. My father, +a virtuous landowner of the steppes, had handed me over to a retired +German professor, who, for a hundred roubles a month, undertook to +lodge and board me, and to watch over my morals. This German was the +fortunate possessor of an exceedingly solemn and decorous manner; at +first I went in considerable awe of him. But on returning home one +evening, I saw, with indescribable emotion, my preceptor sitting with +three or four companions at a round table, on which there stood a +fair-sized collection of empty bottles and half-full glasses. On seeing +me, my revered preceptor got up, and, waving his arms and stammering, +presented me to the honourable company, who all promptly offered me a +glass of punch. This agreeable spectacle had a most illuminating effect +on my intelligence; my future rose before me in the most seductive +images. And, as a fact, from that memorable day I enjoyed unbounded +freedom, and all but worried my preceptor to death. He had a wife who +always smelt of smoke and pickled cucumbers; she was still youngish, +but had not a single front tooth in her head. All German women, as we +know, very quickly lose those indispensable ornaments of the human +frame. I mention her, solely because she fell passionately in love with +me and fed me almost into my grave.' + +'To the point, to the point,' we shouted. 'Surely it's not your own +adventures you're going to tell us?' + +'No, gentlemen!' the small man replied composedly. 'I am an ordinary +mortal. And so I lived at my German's, as the saying is, in clover. I +did not attend lectures with too much assiduity, while at home I did +positively nothing. In a very short time, I had got to know all my +comrades and was on intimate terms with all of them. Among my new +friends was one rather decent and good-natured fellow, the son of a +town provost on the retired list. His name was Bobov. This Bobov got in +the habit of coming to see me, and seemed to like me. I, too ... do you +know, I didn't like him, nor dislike him; I was more or less +indifferent.... I must tell I hadn't in all Moscow a single relation, +except an old uncle, who used sometimes to ask me for money. I never +went anywhere, and was particularly afraid of women; I also avoided all +acquaintance with the parents of my college friends, ever after one +such parent (in my presence) pulled his son's hair--because a button +was off his uniform, while at the very time I hadn't more than six +buttons on my whole coat. In comparison with many of my comrades, I +passed for being a person of wealth; my father used to send me every +now and then small packets of faded blue notes, and consequently I not +only enjoyed a position of independence, but I was continually +surrounded by toadies and flatterers.... What am I saying?--why, for +that matter, so was my bobtail dog Armishka, who, in spite of his +setter pedigree, was so frightened of a shot, that the very sight of a +gun reduced him to indescribable misery. Like every young man, however, +I was not without that vague inward fermentation which usually, after +bringing forth a dozen more or less shapeless poems, passes off in a +peaceful and propitious manner. I wanted something, strove towards +something, and dreamed of something; I'll own I didn't know precisely +what it was I dreamed of. Now I understand what was lacking:--I felt my +loneliness, thirsted for the society of so-called live people; the word +Life waked echoes in my heart, and with a vague ache I listened to the +sound of it.... Valerian Nikitich, pass me a cigarette.' + +Lighting the cigarette, the small man continued: + +'One fine morning Bobov came running to me, out of breath: "Do you +know, old man, the great news? Kolosov has arrived." "Kolosov? and who +on earth is Mr. Kolosov?" + +'"You don't know him? Andriusha Kolosov! Come, old boy, let's go to him +directly. He came back last night from a holiday engagement." "But what +sort of fellow is he?" "An exceptional man, my boy, let me assure you!" +"An exceptional man," I answered; "then you go alone. I'll stop at +home. I know your exceptional men! A half-tipsy rhymester with an +everlastingly ecstatic smile!" ... "Oh no! Kolosov's not like that." I +was on the point of observing that it was for Mr. Kolosov to call on +me; but, I don't know why, I obeyed Bobov and went. Bobov conducted me +to one of the very dirtiest, crookedest, and narrowest streets in +Moscow.... The house in which Kolosov lodged was built in the +old-fashioned style, rambling and uncomfortable. We went into the +courtyard; a fat peasant woman was hanging out clothes on a line +stretched from the house to the fence.... Children were squalling on +the wooden staircase...' + +'Get on! get on!' we objected plaintively. + +'I see, gentlemen, you don't care for the agreeable, and cling solely +to the profitable. As you please! We groped our way through a dark and +narrow passage to Kolosov's room; we went in. You have most likely an +approximate idea of what a poor student's room is like. Directly facing +the door Kolosov was sitting on a chest of drawers, smoking a pipe. He +gave his hand to Bobov in a friendly way, and greeted me affably. I +looked at Kolosov and at once felt irresistibly drawn to him. +Gentlemen! Bobov was right: Kolosov really was a remarkable person. Let +me describe a little more in detail.... He was rather tall, slender, +graceful, and exceedingly good-looking. His face... I find it very +difficult to describe his face. It is easy to describe all the features +one by one; but how is one to convey to any one else what constitutes +the distinguishing characteristic, the essence of just _that_ face?' + +'What Byron calls "the music of the face,"' observed a tightly +buttoned-up, pallid gentleman. + +'Quite so.... And therefore I will confine myself to a single remark: +the especial "something" to which I have just referred consisted in +Kolosov's case in a carelessly gay and fearless expression of face, and +also in an exceedingly captivating smile. He did not remember his +parents, and had had a wretched bringing-up in the house of a distant +relative, who had been degraded from the service for taking bribes. Up +to the age of fifteen, he had lived in the country; then he found his +way into Moscow, and after two years spent in the care of an old deaf +priest's wife, he entered the university and began to get his living by +lessons. He gave instruction in history, geography, and Russian +grammar, though he had only a dim notion of these branches of science; +but in the first place, there is an abundance of 'textbooks' among us +in Russia, of the greatest usefulness to teachers; and secondly, the +requirements of the respectable merchants, who confided their +children's education to Kolosov, were exceedingly limited. Kolosov was +neither a wit nor a humorist; but you cannot imagine how readily we all +fell under that fellow's sway. We felt a sort of instinctive admiration +of him; his words, his looks, his gestures were all so full of the +charm of youth that all his comrades were head over ears in love with +him. The professors considered him as a fairly intelligent lad, but 'of +no marked abilities,' and lazy. + +Kolosov's presence gave a special harmony to our evening reunions. +Before him, our liveliness never passed into vulgar riotousness; if we +were all melancholy--this half childlike melancholy, in his presence, +led on to quiet, sometimes fairly sensible, conversation, and never +ended in dejected boredom. You are smiling, gentlemen--I understand +your smile; no doubt, many of us since then have turned out pretty +cads! But youth ... youth....' + + 'Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story! + The days of our youth are the days of our glory....' + +commented the same pallid gentleman. + +'By Jove, what a memory he's got! and all from Byron!' observed the +storyteller. 'In one word, Kolosov was the soul of our set. I was +attached to him by a feeling stronger than any I have ever felt for any +woman. And yet, I don't feel ashamed even now to remember that strange +love--yes, love it was, for I recollect I went through at that time all +the tortures of that passion, jealousy, for instance. Kolosov liked us +all equally, but was particularly friendly with a silent, +flaxen-haired, and unobtrusive youth, called Gavrilov. From Gavrilov he +was almost inseparable; he would often speak to him in a whisper, and +used to disappear with him out of Moscow, no one knew where, for two or +three days at a time.... Kolosov did not care to be questioned, and I +was lost in surmises. It was not simple curiosity that disturbed me. I +longed to become the friend, the attendant squire of Kolosov; I was +jealous of Gavrilov; I envied him; I could never find an explanation to +satisfy me of Kolosov's strange absences. Meanwhile he had none of that +air of mysteriousness about him, which is the proud possession of +youths endowed with vanity, pallor, black hair, and 'expressive' eyes, +nor had he anything of that studied carelessness under which we are +given to understand that vast forces are slumbering; no, he was quite +open and free; but when he was possessed by passion, an intense, +impulsive energy was apparent in everything about him; only he did not +waste his energies in vain, and never under any circumstances became +high-flown or affected. By the way ... tell me the truth, hasn't it +happened to you to sit smoking a pipe with an air of as weary solemnity +as if you had just resolved on a grand achievement, while you were +simply pondering on what colour to choose for your next pair of +trousers?... But the point is, that I was the first to observe in +Kolosov, always cheerful and friendly as he was, these instinctive, +passionate impulses.... They may well say that love is penetrating. I +made up my mind at all hazards to get into his confidence. It was no +use for me to lay myself out to please Kolosov; I had such a childlike +adoration for him that he could have no doubt of my devotion ... but to +my indescribable vexation, I had, at last, to yield to the conviction +that Kolosov avoided closer intimacy with me, that he was as it were +oppressed by my uninvited attachment. Once, when with obvious +displeasure he asked me to lend him money--the very next day he +returned me the loan with ironical gratitude. During the whole winter +my relations with Kolosov were utterly unchanged; I often compared +myself with Gavrilov, and could not make out in what respect he was +better than I.... But suddenly everything was changed. In the middle of +April, Gavrilov fell ill, and died in the arms of Kolosov, who never +left his room for an instant, and went nowhere for a whole week +afterwards. We were all grieved for poor Gavrilov; the pale, silent lad +seemed to have had a foreboding of his end. I too grieved sincerely for +him, but my heart ached with expectation of something.... One ever +memorable evening ... I was alone, lying on the sofa, gazing idly at +the ceiling ... some one rapidly opened the door of my room and stood +still in the doorway; I raised my head; before me stood Kolosov. + +He slowly came in and sat down beside me. 'I have come to you,' he +began in a rather thick voice, 'because you care more for me than any +of the others do.... I have lost my best friend'--his voice shook a +little--'and I feel lonely.... None of you knew Gavrilov ... none of +you knew....' He got up, paced up and down the room, came rapidly +towards me again.... 'Will you take his place?' he said, and gave me +his hand. I leaped up and flung myself on his breast. My genuine +delight touched him.... I did not know what to say, I was choking.... +Kolosov looked at me and softly laughed. We had tea. At tea he talked +of Gavrilov; I heard that that timid, gentle boy had saved Kolosov's +life, and I could not but own to myself that in Gavrilov's place I +couldn't have resisted chattering about it--boasting of my luck. It +struck eight. Kolosov got up, went to the window, drummed on the panes, +turned swiftly round to me, tried to say something ... and sat down on +a chair without a word. I took his hand. 'Kolosov, truly, truly I +deserve your confidence!' He looked straight into my eyes. 'Well, if +so,' he brought out at last, 'take your cap and come along.' 'Where +to?' 'Gavrilov did not ask me.' I was silent at once. 'Can you play at +cards?' 'Yes.' + +We went out, took a cab to one of the gates of the town. At the gate we +got out. Kolosov went on in front very quickly; I followed him. We +walked along the highroad. After we had gone three-quarters of a mile, +Kolosov turned off. Meanwhile night had come on. On the right in the +fog were the twinkling lights, the innumerable church-spires of the +immense city; on the left, two white horses were grazing in a meadow +skirting the forest: before us stretched fields covered with greyish +mists. I followed Kolosov in silence. He stopped all at once, stretched +his hand out in front of him, and said: 'Here, this is where we are +going.' I saw a small dark house; two little windows showed a dim light +in the fog. 'In this house,' Kolosov went on, 'lives a man called +Sidorenko, a retired lieutenant, with his sister, an old maid, and his +daughter. I shall pass you off as a relation of mine--you must sit +down and play at cards with him.' I nodded without a word. + +I wanted to show Kolosov that I could be as silent as Gavrilov.... But +I will own I was suffering agonies of curiosity. As we went up to the +steps of the house, I caught sight, at a lighted window, of the slender +figure of a girl.... She seemed waiting for us and vanished at once. We +went into a dark and narrow passage. A crooked, hunchback old woman +came to meet us, and looked at me with astonishment. 'Is Ivan +Semyonitch at home?' inquired Kolosov. 'He is at home.'... 'He is at +home!' called a deep masculine voice from within. We went into the +dining-room, if dining-room one can call the long, rather dirty room; a +small old piano huddled unassumingly in a corner beside the stove; a +few chairs stood out along the walls which had once been yellow. In the +middle of the room stood a tall, stooping man of fifty, in a greasy +dressing-gown. I looked at him more attentively: a morose looking +countenance, hair standing up like a brush, a low forehead, grey eyes, +immense whiskers, thick lips.... 'A nice customer!' I thought. 'It's a +longish time since we've seen you, Andrei Nikolaevitch,' he observed, +holding out his hideous red hand, 'a longish time it is! And where's +Sevastian Sevastianovitch?' 'Gavrilov is dead,' answered Kolosov +mournfully. 'Dead! you don't say so! And who's this?' 'My relation--I +have the honour to present to you Nikolai Alexei....' 'All right, all +right,' Ivan Semyonitch cut him short, 'delighted, delighted. And does +he play cards?' 'Play, of course he does!' 'Ah, then, that's capital; +we'll sit down directly. Hey! Matrona Semyonovna--where are you? the +card-table--quick!... And tea!' With these words Mr. Sidorenko walked +into the next room. Kolosov looked at me. 'Listen,' he said, 'you can't +think how ashamed I am!'... I shut him up. 'Come, you there, what's +your name, this way,' called Ivan Semyonitch. I went into the +drawing-room. The drawing-room was even smaller than the dining-room. +On the walls hung some monstrosities of portraits; in front of the +sofa, of which the stuffing protruded in several places, stood a green +table; on the sofa sat Ivan Semyonitch, already shuffling the cards. +Near him on the extreme edge of a low chair sat a spare woman in a +white cap and a black gown, yellow and wrinkled, with short-sighted +eyes and thin cat-like lips. 'Here,' said Ivan Semyonitch, 'let me +introduce him; the first man's dead; Andrei Nikolaevitch has brought us +another; let's see how he plays!' The old lady bowed awkwardly and +cleared her throat. I looked round; Kolosov was no longer in the room. +'Stop that coughing, Matrona Semyonovna; sheep cough,' grumbled +Sidorenko. I sat down; the game began. Mr. Sidorenko got fearfully hot +and furious at my slightest mistake; he pelted his sister with abusive +epithets, but she had apparently had time to get used to her brother's +amenities, and only blinked in response. But when he announced to +Matrona Semyonovna that she was 'Antichrist,' the poor old woman fired +up. 'Ivan Semyonitch,' she protested with heat, 'you were the death of +your wife, Anfisa Karpovna, but you shan't worry me into my grave!' +'Indeed?' 'No! you shan't.' 'Indeed?' 'No! you shan't.' They kept it up +in this fashion for some time. My position was, as you perceive, not +merely an unenviable one: it was positively idiotic. I couldn't +conceive what had induced Kolosov to bring me.... I have never been a +good card-player; but on that occasion I was aware myself that I was +playing excruciatingly badly. 'No!' the retired lieutenant repeated +continually,' you can't hold a candle to Sevastianovitch! No! you play +carelessly!' I, you may be sure, was inwardly wishing him at the devil. +This torture continued for two hours; they beat me hollow. Before the +end of the last rubber, I heard a slight sound behind my chair--I +looked round and saw Kolosov; beside him stood a girl of seventeen, who +was watching me with a scarcely perceptible smile. 'Fill me my pipe, +Varia,' muttered Ivan Semyonitch. The girl promptly flew off into the +other room. She was not very pretty, rather pale, rather thin; but +never before or since have I seen such hair, such eyes. We finished the +rubber somehow; I paid up, Sidorenko lighted his pipe and grumbled: + +'Well, now it's time for supper!' Kolosov presented me to Varia, that +is, to Varvara Ivanovna, the daughter of Ivan Semyonitch. Varia was +embarrassed; I too was embarrassed. But in a few minutes Kolosov, as +usual, had got everything and everyone into full swing; he sat Varia +down to the piano, begged her to play a dance tune, and proceeded to +dance a Cossack dance in competition with Ivan Semyonitch. The +lieutenant uttered little shrieks, stamped and cut such incredible +capers that even Matrona Semyonovna burst out laughing and retreated to +her own room upstairs. The hunchback old woman laid the table; we sat +down to supper. At supper Kolosov told all sorts of nonsensical +stories; the lieutenant's guffaws were deafening; I peeped from under +my eyelids at Varia. She never took her eyes off Kolosov ... and from +the expression of her face alone, I could divine that she both loved +him and was loved by him. Her lips were slightly parted, her head bent +a little forward, a faint colour kept flitting across her whole face; +from time to time she sighed deeply, suddenly dropped her eyes, and +softly laughed to herself.... I rejoiced for Kolosov.... But at the +same time, deuce take it, I was envious.... + +After supper, Kolosov and I promptly took up our caps, which did not, +however, prevent the lieutenant from saying, with a yawn: 'You've paid +us a long visit, gentlemen; it's time to say good-bye.' Varia +accompanied Kolosov into the passage: 'When are you coming, Andrei +Nikolaevitch?' she whispered to him. 'In a few days, for certain.' +'Bring him too,' she added, with a very sly smile. 'Of course, of +course.' ... 'Your humble servant!' thought I.... + +On the way home, I heard the following story. Six months before, +Kolosov had become acquainted with Mr. Sidorenko in a rather queer way. +One rainy evening, Kolosov was returning home from shooting, and had +reached the gate of the city, when suddenly, at no great distance from +the highroad, he heard groans, interspersed with curses. He had a gun; +without thinking long, he made straight for the sound, and found a man +lying on the ground with a dislocated ankle. This man was Mr. +Sidorenko. With great difficulty he got him home, handed him over to +the care of his frightened sister and his daughter, and ran for the +doctor.... Meantime it was nearly morning; Kolosov was almost dropping +with fatigue. With the permission of Matrona Semyonovna, he lay down on +the sofa in the parlour, and slept till eight o'clock. On waking up he +would at once have gone home; but they kept him and gave him some tea. +In the night he had twice succeeded in catching a glimpse of the pale +face of Varvara Ivanovna; he had not particularly noticed her, but in +the morning she made a decidedly agreeable impression on him. Matrona +Semyonovna garrulously praised and thanked Kolosov; Varvara sat silent, +pouring out the tea, glanced at him now and then, and with timid +shame-faced attentiveness handed him first a cup of tea, then the +cream, then the sugar-basin. Meanwhile the lieutenant waked up, loudly +called for his pipe, and after a short pause bawled: 'Sister! hi, +sister!' Matrona Semyonovna went to his bedroom. 'What about +that...what the devil's his name? is he gone?' 'No, I'm still here,' +answered Kolosov, going up to the door; 'are you better now?' 'Yes,' +answered the lieutenant; 'come in here, my good sir.' Kolosov went in. +Sidorenko looked at him, and reluctantly observed: 'Well, thanks; come +sometimes and see me--what's your name? who the devil's to know?' +'Kolosov,' answered Andrei. 'Well, well, come and see us; but it's no +use your sticking on here now, I daresay they're expecting you at +home.' Kolosov retreated, said good-bye to Matrona Semyonovna, bowed to +Varvara Ivanovna, and returned home. From that day he began to visit +Ivan Semyonitch, at first at long intervals, then more and more +frequently. The summer came on; he would sometimes take his gun, put on +his knapsack, and set off as if he were going shooting. He would go to +the retired lieutenant's, and stay on there till evening. + +Varvara Ivanovna's father had served twenty-five years in the army, had +saved a small sum of money, and bought himself a few acres of land a +mile and a half from Moscow. He could scarcely read and write; but in +spite of his external clumsiness and coarseness, he was shrewd and +cunning, and even, on occasion, capable of sharp practice, like many +Little Russians. He was a fearful egoist, obstinate as an ox, and in +general exceedingly impolite, especially with strangers; I even +detected in him something like a contempt for the whole human race. He +indulged himself in every caprice, like a spoilt child; would know no +one, and lived for his own pleasure. We were once somehow or other +talking about marriages with him; 'Marriage ... marriage,' said he; +'whom the devil would I let my daughter marry? Eh? what should I do it +for? for her husband to knock her about as I used to my wife? Besides, +whom should I be left with?' Such was the retired lieutenant, Ivan +Semyonitch. Kolosov used to go and see him, not on his account, of +course, but for the sake of his daughter. One fine evening, Andrei was +sitting in the garden with her, chatting about something; Ivan +Semyonitch went up to him, looked sullenly at Varia, and called Andrei +away. 'Listen, my dear fellow,' he said to him; 'you find it good fun, +I see, gossiping with my only child, but I'm dull in my old age; bring +some one with you, or I've nobody to deal a card to; d'ye hear? I +shan't give admittance to you by yourself.' The next day Kolosov turned +up with Gavrilov, and poor Sevastian Sevastianovitch had for a whole +autumn and winter been playing cards in the evenings with the retired +lieutenant; that worthy treated him without ceremony, as it is +called--in other words, fearfully rudely. You now probably realise why +it was that, after Gavrilov's death, Kolosov took me with him to Ivan +Semyonitch's. As he communicated all these details, Kolosov added, 'I +love Varia, she is the dearest girl; she liked you.' + +I have forgotten, I fancy, to make known to you that up to that time I +had been afraid of women and avoided them, though I would sometimes, in +solitude, spend whole hours in dreaming of tender interviews, of love, +of mutual love, and so on. Varvara Ivanovna was the first girl with +whom I was forced to talk, by necessity--by necessity it really was. +Varia was an ordinary girl, and yet there are very few such girls in +holy Russia. You will ask me--why so? Because I never noticed in her +anything strained, unnatural, affected; because she was a simple, +candid, rather melancholy creature, because one could never call her 'a +young lady.' I liked her soft smile; I liked her simple-hearted, +ringing little voice, her light and mirthful laugh, her attentive +though by no means 'profound' glances. The child promised nothing; but +you could not help admiring her, as you admire the sudden, soft cry of +the oriole at evening, in the lofty, dark birch-wood. I must confess +that at the present time I should pass by such a creature with some +indifference; I've no taste now for solitary evening strolls, and +orioles; but in those days ... + +I've no doubt, gentlemen, that, like all well-educated persons, you +have been in love at least once in the course of your life, and have +learnt from your own experience how love springs up and develops in the +human heart, and therefore I'm not going to enlarge too much on what +took place with me at that time. Kolosov and I used to go pretty often +to Ivan Semyonitch's; and though those damned cards often drove me to +utter despair, still, in the mere proximity of the woman one loves (I +had fallen in love with Varia) there is a sort of strange, sweet, +tormenting joy. I made no effort to suppress this growing feeling; +besides, by the time I had at last brought myself to call the emotion +by its true name, it was already too strong.... I cherished my love in +silence, and jealously and shyly concealed it. I myself enjoyed this +agonising ferment of silent passion. My sufferings did not rob me of my +sleep, nor of my appetite; but for whole days together I was conscious +of that peculiar physical sensation in my breast which is a symptom of +the presence of love. I am incapable of depicting the conflict of +various sensations which took place within me when, for example, +Kolosov came in from the garden with Varia, and her whole face was +aglow with ecstatic devotion, exhaustion from excess of bliss.... She +so completely lived in his life, was so completely taken up with him, +that unconsciously she adopted his ways, looked as he looked, laughed +as he laughed.... I can imagine the moments she passed with Andrei, the +raptures she owed to him.... While he ... Kolosov did not lose his +freedom; in her absence he did not, I suppose, even think of her; he +was still the same unconcerned, gay, and happy fellow we had always +known him. + +And, as I have already told you, we used, Kolosov and I, to go pretty +often to Ivan Semyonitch's. Sometimes, when he was out of humour, the +retired lieutenant did not make me sit down to cards; on such +occasions, he would shrink into a corner in silence, scowling and +looking crossly at every one. The first time I was delighted at his +letting me off so easily; but afterwards I would sometimes begin myself +begging him to sit down to whist, the part of third person was so +insupportable! I was so unpleasantly in Kolosov's and Varia's way, +though they did assure each other that there was no need to mind me!... + +Meanwhile time went on.... They were happy.... I have no great fondness +for describing other people's happiness. But then I began to notice +that Varia's childish ecstasy had gradually given way to a more +womanly, more restless feeling. I began to surmise that the new song +was being sung to the old tune--that is, that Kolosov was...little by +little...cooling. This discovery, I must own, delighted me; I did not +feel, I must confess, the slightest indignation against Andrei. + +The intervals between our visits became longer and longer.... Varia +began to meet us with tear-stained eyes. Reproaches were heard ... +Sometimes I asked Kolosov with affected indifference, 'Well, shall we +go to Ivan Semyonitch's to-day?' ... He looked coldly at me, and +answered quietly, 'No, we're not going.' I sometimes fancied that he +smiled slily when he spoke to me of Varia.... I failed generally to +fill Gavrilov's place with him.... Gavrilov was a thousand times more +good-natured and foolish than I. + +Now allow me a slight digression.... When I spoke of my university +comrades, I did not mention a certain Mr. Shtchitov. He was +five-and-thirty; he had been a student for ten years already. I can see +even now his rather long pale face, his little brown eyes, his long +hawk nose crooked at the end, his thin sarcastic lips, his solemn +upstanding shock of hair, and his chin that lost itself complacently in +the wide striped cravat of the colour of a raven's wing, the shirt +front with bronze buttons, the open blue frock-coat and striped +waistcoat.... I can hear his unpleasantly jarring laugh.... He went +everywhere, was conspicuous at all possible kinds of 'dancing classes.' +... I remember I could not listen to his cynical stories without a +peculiar shudder.... Kolosov once compared him to an unswept Russian +refreshment bar ... a horrible comparison! And with all that, there was +a lot of intelligence, common sense, observation, and wit in the +man.... He sometimes impressed us by some saying so apt, so true and +cutting, that we were all involuntarily reduced to silence and looked +at him with amazement. But, to be sure, it is just the same to a +Russian whether he has uttered an absurdity or a clever thing. +Shtchitov was especially dreaded by those self-conscious, dreamy, and +not particularly gifted youths who spend whole days in painfully +hatching a dozen trashy lines of verse and reading them in sing-song to +their 'friends,' and who despise every sort of positive science. One +such he simply drove out of Moscow, by continually repeating to him two +of his own lines. Yet all the while Shtchitov himself did nothing and +learnt nothing.... But that's all in the natural order of things. Well, +Shtchitov, God only knows why, began jeering at my romantic attachment +to Kolosov. The first time, with noble indignation, I told him to go to +the devil; the second time, with chilly contempt, I informed him that +he was not capable of judging of our friendship--but I did not send him +away; and when, on taking leave of me, he observed that without +Kolosov's permission I didn't even dare to praise him, I felt annoyed; +Shtchitov's last words sank into my heart.--For more than a fortnight I +had not seen Varia.... Pride, love, a vague anticipation, a number of +different feelings were astir within me ... with a wave of the hand and +a fearful sinking at my heart, I set off alone to Ivan Semyonitch's. + +I don't know how I made my way to the familiar little house; I remember +I sat down several times by the road to rest, not from fatigue, but +from emotion. I went into the passage, and had not yet had time to +utter a single word when the door of the drawing-room flew open and +Varia ran to meet me. 'At last,' she said, in a quavering voice; +'where's Andrei Nikolaevitch?' 'Kolosov has not come,' I muttered with +an effort. 'Not come!' she repeated. 'Yes ... he told me to tell you +that ... he was detained....' I positively did not know what I was +saying, and I did not dare to raise my eyes. Varia stood silent and +motionless before me. I glanced at her: she turned away her head; two +big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. In the expression of her face +there was such sudden, bitter suffering; the conflict between +bashfulness, sorrow, and confidence in me was so simply, so touchingly +apparent in the unconscious movement of her poor little head that it +sent a pang to my heart. I bent a little forward ... she gave a hurried +start and ran away. In the parlour I was met by Ivan Semyonitch. 'How's +this, my good sir, are you alone?' he asked me, with a queer twitch of +his left eyelid. 'Yes, I've come alone,' I stammered. Sidorenko went +off into a sudden guffaw and departed into the next room. + +I had never been in such a foolish position; it was too devilishly +disgusting! But there was nothing to be done. I began walking up and +down the room. 'What was the fat pig laughing at?' I wondered. Matrona +Semyonovna came into the room with a stocking in her hands and sat down +in the window. I began talking to her. Meanwhile tea was brought in. +Varia came downstairs, pale and sorrowful. The retired lieutenant made +jokes about Kolosov. 'I know,' said he, 'what sort of customer he is; +you couldn't tempt him here with lollipops now, I expect!' Varia +hurriedly got up and went away. Ivan Semyonitch looked after her and +gave a sly whistle. I glanced at him in perplexity. 'Can it be,' I +wondered, 'that he knows all about it?' And the lieutenant, as though +divining my thoughts, nodded his head affirmatively. Directly after tea +I got up and took leave. 'You, my good sir, we shall see again,' +observed the lieutenant. I did not say a word in reply.... I began to +feel simply frightened of the man. + +On the steps a cold and trembling hand clutched at mine; I looked +round: Varia. 'I must speak to you,' she whispered. 'Come to-morrow +rather earlier, straight into the garden. After dinner papa is asleep; +no one will interfere with us.' I pressed her hand without a word, and +we parted. + +Next day, at three o'clock in the afternoon, I was in Ivan Semyonitch's +garden. In the morning I had not seen Kolosov, though he had come to +see me. It was a grey autumn day, but soft and warm. Delicate yellow +blades of grass nodded over the blanching turf; the nimble tomtits were +hopping about the bare dark-brown twigs; some belated larks were +hurriedly running about the paths; a hare was creeping cautiously about +among the greens; a herd of cattle wandered lazily over the stubble. I +found Varia in the garden under the apple-tree on the little +garden-seat; she was wearing a dark dress, rather creased; her weary +eyes, the dejected droop of her hair, seemed to express genuine +suffering. + +I sat down beside her. We were both silent. For a long while she kept +twisting a twig in her hand; she bent her head, and uttered: 'Andrei +Nikolaevitch....' I noticed at once, by the twitching of her lips, that +she was getting ready to cry, and began consoling her, assuring her +hotly of Andrei's devotion.... She heard me, nodded her head +mournfully, articulated some indistinct words, and then was silent but +did not cry. The first moments I had dreaded most of all had gone off +fairly well. She began little by little to talk about Andrei. 'I know +that he does not love me now,' she repeated: 'God be with him! I can't +imagine how I am to live without him.... I don't sleep at nights, I +keep weeping.... What am I to do! What am I to do! ...' Her eyes filled +with tears. 'I thought him so kind ... and here ...' Varia wiped her +eyes, cleared her throat, and sat up. 'It seems such a little while +ago,' she went on: 'he was reading to me out of Pushkin, sitting with +me on this bench....' Varia's naïve communicativeness touched me. I +listened in silence to her confessions; my soul was slowly filled with +a bitter, torturing bliss; I could not take my eyes off that pale face, +those long, wet eyelashes, and half-parted, rather parched lips.... And +meanwhile I felt ... Would you care to hear a slight psychological +analysis of my emotions at that moment? in the first place I was +tortured by the thought that it was not I that was loved, not I that as +making Varia suffer: secondly, I was delighted at her confidence; I +knew she would be grateful to me for giving her an opportunity of +expressing her sorrow: thirdly, I was inwardly vowing to myself to +bring Kolosov and Varia together again, and was deriving consolation +from the consciousness of my magnanimity ... in the fourth place, I +hoped, by my self-sacrifice, to touch Varia's heart; and then ... You +see I do not spare myself; no, thank God! it's high time! + +But from the bell-tower of the monastery near it struck five o'clock; +the evening was coming on rapidly. Varia got up hastily, thrust a +little note into my hand, and went off towards the house. I overtook +her, promised to bring Andrei to her, and stealthily, like a happy +lover, crept out by the little gate into the field. On the note was +written in an unsteady hand the words: To Andrei Nikolaevitch. + +Next day I set off early in the morning to Kolosov's. I'm bound to +confess that, although I assured myself that my intentions were not +only honourable, but positively brimful of great-hearted +self-sacrifice, I was yet conscious of a certain awkwardness, even +timidity. I arrived at Kolosov's. There was with him a fellow called +Puzyritsin, a former student who had never taken his degree, one of +those authors of sensational novels of the so-called 'Moscow' or 'grey' +school. Puzyritsin was a very good-natured and shy person, and was +always preparing to be an hussar, in spite of his thirty-three years. +He belonged to that class of people who feel it absolutely necessary, +once in the twenty-four hours, to utter a phrase after the pattern of, +'The beautiful always falls into decay in the flower of its splendour; +such is the fate of the beautiful in the world,' in order to smoke his +pipe with redoubled zest all the rest of the day in a circle of 'good +comrades.' On this account he was called an idealist. Well, so +Puzyritsin was sitting with Kolosov reading him some 'fragment.' I +began to listen; it was all about a youth, who loves a maiden, kills +her, and so on. At last Puzyritsin finished and retreated. His absurd +production, solemnly bawling voice, his presence altogether, had put +Kolosov into a mood of sarcastic irritability. I felt that I had come +at an unlucky moment, but there was nothing to be done for it; without +any kind of preface, I handed Andrei Varia's note. + +Kolosov looked at me in perplexity, tore open the note, ran his eyes +over it, said nothing, but smiled composedly. 'Oh, ho!' he said at +last; 'so you've been at Ivan Semyonitch's?' + +'Yes, I was there yesterday, alone,' I answered abruptly and +resolutely. + +'Ah!...' observed Kolosov ironically, and he lighted his pipe. +'Andrei,' I said to him, 'aren't you sorry for her?... If you had seen +her tears...' + +And I launched into an eloquent description of my visit of the previous +day. I was genuinely moved. Kolosov did not speak, and smoked his pipe. + +'You sat with her under the apple-tree in the garden,' he said at last. +'I remember in May I, too, used to sit with her on that seat.... The +apple-tree was in blossom, the fresh white flowers fell upon us +sometimes; I held both Varia's hands... we were happy then.... Now the +apple-blossom is over, and the apples on the tree are sour.' + +I flew into a passion of noble indignation, began reproaching Andrei +for coldness, for cruelty, argued with him that he had no right to +abandon a girl so suddenly, after awakening in her a multitude of new +emotions; I begged him at least to go and say good-bye to Varia. +Kolosov heard me to the end. + +'Admitting,' he said to me, when, agitated and exhausted, I flung +myself into an armchair, 'that you, as my friend, may be allowed to +criticise me. But hear my defence, at least, though...' + +Here he paused for a little while and smiled curiously. 'Varia's an +excellent girl,' he went on, 'and has done me no wrong whatever.... On +the contrary, I am greatly, very greatly indebted to her. I have left +off going to see her for a very simple reason--I have left off caring +for her....' + +'But why? why?' I interrupted him. + +'Goodness knows why. While I loved her, I was entirely hers; I never +thought of the future, and everything, my whole life, I shared with her +... now this passion has died out in me.... Well, you would tell me to +be a humbug, to play at being in love, wouldn't you? But what for? from +pity for her? If she's a decent girl, she won't care for such charity +herself, but if she is glad to be consoled by my ... my sympathy, well, +she's not good for much!' + +Kolosov's carelessly offhand expressions offended me, perhaps, the more +because they were applied to the woman with whom I was secretly in +love.... I fired up. 'Stop,' I said to him; 'stop! I know why you have +given up going to see Varia.' + +'Why?' + +'Taniusha has forbidden you to.' + +In uttering these words, I fancied I was dealing a most cutting blow at +Andrei. Taniusha was a very 'easy-going' young lady, black-haired, +dark, five-and-twenty, free in her manners, and devilishly clever, a +Shtchitov in petticoats. Kolosov quarrelled with her and made it up +again half a dozen times in a month. She was passionately fond of him, +though sometimes, during their misunderstandings, she would vow and +declare that she thirsted for his blood.... And Andrei, too, could not +get on without her. Kolosov looked at me, and responded serenely, +'Perhaps so.' + +'Not perhaps so,' I shouted, 'but certainly!' + +Kolosov at last got sick of my reproaches.... He got up and put on his +cap. + +'Where are you going?' + +'For a walk; you and Puzyritsin have given me a headache between you.' + +'You are angry with me?' + +'No,' he answered, smiling his sweet smile, and holding out his hand to +me. + +'Well, anyway, what do you wish me to tell Varia?' + +'Eh?' ... He thought a little. 'She told you,' he said, 'that we had +read Pushkin together.... Remind her of one line of Pushkin's.' 'What +line? what line?' I asked impatiently. 'This one: + + "What has been will not be again."' + +With those words he went out of the room. I followed him; on the stairs +he stopped. + +'And is she very much upset?' he asked me, pulling his cap over his +eyes. + +'Very, very much!...' + +'Poor thing! Console her, Nikolai; you love her, you know.' + +'Yes, I have grown fond of her, certainly....' + +'You love her,' repeated Kolosov, and he looked me straight in the +face. I turned away without a word, and we separated. + +On reaching home, I was in a perfect fever. + +'I have done my duty,' I thought; 'I have overcome my own egoism; I +have urged Andrei to go back to Varia!... Now I am in the right; he +that will not when he may...!' At the same time Andrei's indifference +wounded me. He had not been jealous of me, he told me to console +her.... But is Varia such an ordinary girl, is she not even worthy of +sympathy?... There are people who know how to appreciate what you +despise, Andrei Nikolaitch!... But what's the good? She does not love +me.... No, she does not love me now, while she has not quite lost hope +of Kolosov's return.... But afterwards...who knows, my devotion will +touch her. I will make no claims.... I will give myself up to her +wholly, irrevocably.... Varia! is it possible you will not love +me?...never!...never!... + +Such were the speeches your humble servant was rehearsing in the city +of Moscow, in the year 1833, in the house of his revered preceptor. I +wept... I felt faint... The weather was horrible...a fine rain trickled +down the window panes with a persistent, thin, little patter; damp, +dark-grey storm-clouds hung stationary over the town. I dined +hurriedly, made no response to the anxious inquiries of the kind German +woman, who whimpered a little herself at the sight of my red, swollen +eyes (Germans--as is well known--are always glad to weep). I behaved +very ungraciously to my preceptor...and at once after dinner set off to +Ivan Semyonitch... Bent double in a jolting droshky, I kept asking +myself whether I should tell Varia all as it was, or go on deceiving +her, and little by little turn her heart from Andrei... I reached Ivan +Semyonitch's without knowing what to decide upon... I found all the +family in the parlour. On seeing me, Varia turned fearfully white, but +did not move from her place; Sidorenko began talking to me in a +peculiarly jeering way. I responded as best I could, looking from time +to time at Varia, and almost unconsciously giving a dejected and +pensive expression to my features. The lieutenant started whist again. +Varia sat near the window and did not stir. 'You're dull now, I +suppose?' Ivan Semyonitch asked her twenty times over. + +At last I succeeded in seizing a favourable opportunity. + +'You are alone again,' Varia whispered to me. + +'Yes,' I answered gloomily; 'and probably for long.' + +She swiftly drew in her head. + +'Did you give him my letter?' she asked in a voice hardly audible. + +'Yes.' + +'Well?'... she gasped for breath. I glanced at her.... There was a +sudden flash of spiteful pleasure within me. + +'He told me to tell you,' I pronounced deliberately, 'that "what has +been will not be again...."' + +Varia pressed her left hand to her heart, stretched her right hand out +in front, staggered, and went quickly out of the room. I tried to +overtake her.... Ivan Semyonitch stopped me. I stayed another two hours +with him, but Varia did not appear. On the way back I felt ashamed ... +ashamed before Varia, before Andrei, before myself; though they say it +is better to cut off an injured limb at once than to keep the patient +in prolonged suffering; but who gave me a right to deal such a +merciless blow at the heart of a poor girl?... For a long while I could +not sleep ... but I fell asleep at last. In general I must repeat that +'love' never once deprived me of sleep. + +I began to go pretty often to Ivan Semyonitch's. I used to see Kolosov +as before, but neither he nor I ever referred to Varia. My relations +with her were of a rather curious kind. She became attached to me with +that sort of attachment which excludes every possibility of love. She +could not help noticing my warm sympathy, and talked eagerly with me +... of what, do you suppose?... of Kolosov, nothing but Kolosov! The +man had taken such possession of her that she did not, as it were, +belong to herself. I tried in vain to arouse her pride ... she was +either silent or, if she talked--chattered on about Kolosov. I did not +even suspect in those days that sorrow of that kind--talkative +sorrow--is in reality far more genuine than any silent suffering. I +must own I passed many bitter moments at that time. I was conscious +that I was not capable of filling Kolosov's place; I was conscious that +Varia's past was so full, so rich ... and her present so poor.... I got +to the point of an involuntary shudder at the words 'Do you remember' +... with which almost every sentence of hers began. She grew a little +thinner during the first days of our acquaintance ... but afterwards +got better again, and even grew cheerful; she might have been compared +then with a wounded bird, not yet quite recovered. Meanwhile my +position had become insupportable; the lowest passions gradually gained +possession of my soul; it happened to me to slander Kolosov in Varia's +presence. I resolved to cut short such unnatural relations. But how? +Part from Varia--I could not.... Declare my love to her--I did not +dare; I felt that I could not, as yet, hope for a return. Marry her.... +This idea alarmed me; I was only eighteen; I felt a dread of putting +all my future into bondage so early; I thought of my father, I could +hear the jeering comments of Kolosov's comrades.... But they say every +thought is like dough; you have only to knead it well--you can make +anything you like of it. I began, for whole days together, to dream of +marriage.... I imagined what gratitude would fill Varia's heart when I, +the friend and confidant of Kolosov, should offer her my hand, knowing +her to be hopelessly in love with another. Persons of experience, I +remembered, had told me that marriage for love is a complete absurdity; +I began to indulge my fancy; I pictured to myself our peaceful life +together in some snug corner of South Russia; an mentally I traced the +gradual transition in Varia's heart from gratitude to affection, from +affection to love.... I vowed to myself at once to leave Moscow, the +university, to forget everything and every one. I began to avoid +meeting Kolosov. + +At last, one bright winter day (Varia had been somehow peculiarly +enchanting the previous evening), I dressed myself in my best, slowly +and solemnly sallied out from my room, took a first-rate sledge, and +drove down to Ivan Semyonitch's. Varia was sitting alone in the +drawing-room reading Karamzin. On seeing me she softly laid the book +down on her knees, and with agitated curiosity looked into my face; I +had never been to see them in the morning before.... I sat down beside +her; my heart beat painfully. 'What are you reading?' I asked her at +last. 'Karamzin.' 'What, are you taking up Russian literature?...' She +suddenly cut me short. 'Tell me, haven't you come from Andrei?' That +name, that trembling, questioning voice, the half-joyful, half-timid +expression of her face, all these unmistakable signs of persistent +love, pierced to my heart like arrows. I resolved either to part from +Varia, or to receive from her herself the right to chase the hated name +of Andrei from her lips for ever. I do not remember what I said to her; +at first I must have expressed myself in rather confused fashion, as +for a long while she did not understand me; at last I could stand it no +longer, and almost shouted, 'I love you, I want to marry you.' 'You +love me?' said Varia in bewilderment. I fancied she meant to get up, to +go away, to refuse me. 'For God's sake,' I whispered breathlessly, +'don't answer me, don't say yes or no; think it over; to-morrow I will +come again for a final answer.... I have long loved you. I don't ask of +you love, I want to be your champion, your friend; don't answer me now, +don't answer.... Till to-morrow.' With these words I rushed out of the +room. In the passage Ivan Semyonitch met me, and not only showed no +surprise at my visit, but positively, with an agreeable smile, offered +me an apple. Such unexpected amiability so struck me that I was simply +dumb with amazement. 'Take the apple, it's a nice apple, really!' +persisted Ivan Semyonitch. Mechanically I took the apple at last, and +drove all the way home with it in my hand. + +You may easily imagine how I passed all that day and the following +morning. That night I slept rather badly. 'My God! my God!' I kept +thinking; 'if she refuses me! ... I shall die.... I shall die....' I +repeated wearily. 'Yes, she will certainly refuse me.... And why was I +in such a hurry!'... Wishing to turn my thoughts, I began to write a +letter to my father--a desperate, resolute letter. Speaking of myself, +I used the expression 'your son.' Bobov came in to see me. I began +weeping on his shoulder, which must have surprised poor Bobov not a +little.... I afterwards learned that he had come to me to borrow money +(his landlord had threatened to turn him out of the house); he had no +choice but to hook it, as the students say.... + +At last the great moment arrived. On going out of my room, I stood +still in the doorway. 'With what feelings,' thought I, 'shall I cross +this threshold again to-day?' ... My emotion at the sight of Ivan +Semyonitch's little house was so great that I got down, picked up a +handful of snow and pressed it to my face. 'Oh, heavens!' I thought, +'if I find Varia alone--I am lost!' My legs were giving way under me; I +could hardly get to the steps. Things were as I had hoped. I found +Varia in the parlour with Matrona Semyonovna. I made my bows awkwardly, +and sat down by the old lady. Varia's face was rather paler than +usual.... I fancied that she tried to avoid my eyes.... But what were +my feelings when Matrona Semyonovna suddenly got up and went into the +next room!... I began looking out of the window--I was trembling +inwardly like an autumn leaf. Varia did not speak.... At last I +mastered my timidity, went up to her, bent my head.... + +'What are you going to say to me?' I articulated in a breaking voice. + +Varia turned away--the tears were glistening on her eyelashes. + +'I see,' I went on, 'it's useless for me to hope.'... + +Varia looked shyly round and gave me her hand without a word. + +'Varia!' I cried involuntarily...and stopped, as though frightened at +my own hopes. + +'Speak to papa,' she articulated at last. + +'You permit me to speak to Ivan Semyonitch?' ... + +'Yes.'... I covered her hands with kisses. + +'Don't, don't,' whispered Varia, and suddenly burst into tears. + +I sat down beside her, talked soothingly to her, wiped away her +tears.... Luckily, Ivan Semyonitch was not at home, and Matrona +Semyonovna had gone up to her own little room. I made vows of love, of +constancy to Varia. + +...'Yes,' she said, suppressing her sobs and continually wiping her +eyes; 'I know you are a good man, an honest man; you are not like +Kolosov.'... 'That name again!' thought I. But with what delight I +kissed those warm, damp little hands! with what subdued rapture I gazed +into that sweet face!... I talked to her of the future, walked about +the room, sat down on the floor at her feet, hid my eyes in my hands, +and shuddered with happiness.... Ivan Semyonitch's heavy footsteps cut +short our conversation. Varia hurriedly got up and went off to her own +room--without, however, pressing my hand or glancing at me. Mr. +Sidorenko was even more amiable than on the previous day: he laughed, +rubbed his stomach, made jokes about Matrona Semyonovna, and so on. I +was on the point of asking for his blessing there and then, but I +thought better of it and deferred doing so till the next day. His +ponderous jokes jarred upon me; besides I was exhausted.... I said +good-bye to him and went away. + +I am one of those persons who love brooding over their own sensations, +though I cannot endure such persons myself. And so, after the first +transport of heartfelt joy, I promptly began to give myself up to all +sorts of reflections. When I had got half a mile from the house of the +retired lieutenant, I flung my hat up in the air, in excessive delight, +and shouted 'Hurrah!' But while I was being jolted through the long, +crooked streets of Moscow, my thoughts gradually took another turn. All +sorts of rather sordid doubts began to crowd upon my mind. I recalled +my conversation with Ivan Semyonitch about marriage in general ... and +unconsciously I murmured to myself, 'So he was putting it on, the old +humbug!' It is true that I continually repeated, 'but then Varia is +mine! mine!' ... Yet that 'but'--alas, that _but_!--and then, too, the +words, 'Varia is mine!' aroused in me not a deep, overwhelming rapture, +but a sort of paltry, egoistic triumph.... If Varia had refused me +point-blank, I should have been burning with furious passion; but +having received her consent, I was like a man who has just said to a +guest, 'Make yourself at home,' and sees the guest actually beginning +to settle into his room, as if he were at home. 'If she had loved +Kolosov,' I thought, 'how was it she consented so soon? It's clear +she's glad to marry any one.... Well, what of it? all the better for +me.'... It was with such vague and curious feelings that I crossed the +threshold of my room. Possibly, gentlemen, my story does not strike you +as sounding true. + +I don't know whether it sounds true or not, but I know that all I have +told is the absolute and literal truth. However, I gave myself up all +that day to a feverish gaiety, assured myself that I simply did not +deserve such happiness; but next morning.... + +A wonderful thing is sleep! It not only renews one's body: in a way it +renews one's soul, restoring it to primaeval simplicity and +naturalness. In the course of the day you succeed in _tuning_ yourself, +in soaking yourself in falsity, in false ideas ... sleep with its cool +wave washes away all such pitiful trashiness; and on waking up, at +least for the first few instants, you are capable of understanding and +loving truth. I waked up, and, reflecting on the previous day, I felt a +certain discomfort.... I was, as it were, ashamed of all my own +actions. With instinctive uneasiness I thought of the visit to be made +that day, of my interview with Ivan Semyonitch.... This uneasiness was +acute and distressing; it was like the uneasiness of the hare who hears +the barking of the dogs and is bound at last to run out of his native +forest into the open country...and there the sharp teeth of the +harriers are awaiting him.... 'Why was I in such a hurry?' I repeated, +just as I had the day before, but in quite a different sense. I +remember the fearful difference between yesterday and to-day struck +myself; for the first time it occurred to me that in human life there +lie hid secrets--strange secrets.... With childish perplexity I gazed +into this new, not fantastic, real world. By the word 'real' many +people understand 'trivial.' Perhaps it sometimes is so; but I must own +that the first appearance of _reality_ before me shook me profoundly, +scared me, impressed me.... + +What fine-sounding phrases all about love that didn't come off, to use +Gogol's expression! ... I come back to my story. In the course of that +day I assured myself again that I was the most blissful of mortals. I +drove out of the town to Ivan Semyonitch's. He received me very +gleefully; he had been meaning to go and see a neighbour, but I myself +stopped him. I was afraid to be left alone with Varia. The evening was +cheerful, but not reassuring. Varia was neither one thing nor the +other, neither cordial nor melancholy ... neither pretty nor plain. I +looked at her, as the philosophers say, objectively--that is to say, as +the man who has dined looks at the dishes. I thought her hands were +rather red. Sometimes, however, my heart warmed, and watching her I +gave way to other dreams and reveries. I had only just made her an +offer, as it is called, and here I was already feeling as though we +were living as husband and wife ... as though our souls already made up +one lovely whole, belonged to one another, and consequently were trying +each to seek out a separate path for itself.... + +'Well, have you spoken to papa?' Varia said to me, as soon as we were +left alone. + +This inquiry impressed me most disagreeably.... I thought to myself, +'You're pleased to be in a desperate hurry, Varvara Ivanovna.' + +'Not yet,' I answered, rather shortly, 'but I will speak to him.' + +Altogether I behaved rather casually with her. In spite of my promise, +I said nothing definite to Ivan Semyonitch. As I was leaving, I pressed +his hand significantly, and informed him that I wanted to have a little +talk with him ... that was all.... 'Good-bye!' I said to Varia. + +'Till we meet!' said she. + +I will not keep you long in suspense, gentlemen; I am afraid of +exhausting your patience.... We never met again. I never went back to +Ivan Semyonitch's. The first days, it is true, of my voluntary +separation from Varia did not pass without tears, self-reproach, and +emotion; I was frightened myself at the rapid drooping of my love; +twenty times over I was on the point of starting off to see her. +Vividly I pictured to myself her amazement, her grief, her wounded +feelings; but--I never went to Ivan Semyonitch's again. In her absence +I begged her forgiveness, fell on my knees before her, assured her of +my profound repentance--and once, when I met a girl in the street +slightly resembling her, I took to my heels without looking back, and +only breathed freely in a cook-shop after the fifth jam-puff. The word +'to-morrow' was invented for irresolute people, and for children; like +a baby, I lulled myself with that magic word. 'To-morrow I will go to +her, whatever happens,' I said to myself, and ate and slept well +to-day. I began to think a great deal more about Kolosov than about +Varia ... everywhere, continually, I saw his open, bold, careless face. +I began going to see him as before. He gave me the same welcome as +ever. But how deeply I felt his superiority to me! How ridiculous I +thought all my fancies, my pensive melancholy, during the period of +Kolosov's connection with Varia, my magnanimous resolution to bring +them together again, my anticipations, my raptures, my remorse!... I +had played a wretched, drawn-out part of screaming farce, but he had +passed so simply, so well, through it all.... + +You will say, 'What is there wonderful in that? your Kolosov fell in +love with a girl, then fell out of love again, and threw her over.... +Why, that happens with everybody....' Agreed; but which of us knows +just when to break with our past? Which of us, tell me, is not afraid +of the reproaches--I don't mean of the woman--the reproaches of every +chance fool? Which of us is proof against the temptation of making a +display of magnanimity, or of playing egoistically with another devoted +heart? Which of us, in fact, has the force of character to be superior +to petty vanity, to _petty fine feelings_, sympathy and +self-reproach?... Oh, gentlemen, the man who leaves a woman at that +great and bitter moment when he is forced to recognise that his heart +is not altogether, not fully, hers, that man, believe me, has a truer +and deeper comprehension of the sacredness of love than the +faint-hearted creatures who, from dulness or weakness, go on playing on +the half-cracked strings of their flabby and sentimental hearts! At the +beginning of my story I told you that we all considered Andrei Kolosov +an extraordinary man. And if a clear, simple outlook upon life, if the +absence of every kind of cant in a young man, can be called an +extraordinary thing, Kolosov deserved the name. At a certain age, to be +natural is to be extraordinary.... It is time to finish, though. I +thank you for your attention.... Oh, I forgot to tell you that three +months after my last visit I met the old humbug Ivan Semyonitch. I +tried, of course, to glide hurriedly and unnoticed by him, but yet I +could not help overhearing the words, 'Feather-headed scoundrels!' +uttered angrily. + +'And what became of Varia?' asked some one. + +'I don't know,' answered the story-teller. + +We all got up and separated. + +1864. + + + + +A CORRESPONDENCE + + +A few years ago I was in Dresden. I was staying at an hotel. From early +morning till late evening I strolled about the town, and did not think +it necessary to make acquaintance with my neighbours; at last it +reached my ears in some chance way that there was a Russian in the +hotel--lying ill. I went to see him, and found a man in galloping +consumption. I had begun to be tired of Dresden; I stayed with my new +acquaintance. It's dull work sitting with a sick man, but even dulness +is sometimes agreeable; moreover, my patient was not low-spirited and +was very ready to talk. We tried to kill time in all sorts of ways; We +played 'Fools,' the two of us together, and made fun of the doctor. My +compatriot used to tell this very bald-headed German all sorts of +fictions about himself, which the doctor had always 'long ago +anticipated.' He used to mimic his astonishment at any new, exceptional +symptom, to throw his medicines out of window, and so on. I observed +more than once, however, to my friend that it would be as well to send +for a good doctor before it was too late, that his complaint was not to +be trifled with, and so on. But Alexey (my new friend's name was Alexey +Petrovitch S----) always turned off my advice with jests at the expense +of doctors in general, and his own in particular; and at last one rainy +autumn evening he answered my urgent entreaties with such a mournful +look, he shook his head so sorrowfully and smiled so strangely, that I +felt somewhat disconcerted. The same night Alexey was worse, and the +next day he died. Just before his death his usual cheerfulness deserted +him; he tossed about uneasily in his bed, sighed, looked round him in +anguish ... clutched at my hand, and whispered with an effort, 'But +it's hard to die, you know ... dropped his head on the pillow, and shed +tears. I did not know what to say to him, and sat in silence by his +bed. But Alexey soon got the better of these last, late regrets.... 'I +say,' he said to me, 'our doctor'll come to-day and find me dead.... I +can fancy his face.'... And the dying man tried to mimic him. He asked +me to send all his things to Russia to his relations, with the +exception of a small packet which he gave me as a souvenir. + +This packet contained letters--a girl's letters to Alexey, and copies +of his letters to her. There were fifteen of them. Alexey Petrovitch +S---- had known Marya Alexandrovna B---- long before, in their +childhood, I fancy. Alexey Petrovitch had a cousin, Marya Alexandrovna +had a sister. In former years they had all lived together; then they +had been separated, and had not seen each other for a long while. Later +on, they had chanced one summer to be all together again in the +country, and they had fallen in love--Alexey's cousin with Marya +Alexandrovna, and Alexey with her sister. The summer had passed by, the +autumn came; they parted. Alexey, like a sensible person, soon came to +the conclusion that he was not in love at all, and had effected a very +satisfactory parting from his charmer. His cousin had continued writing +to Marya Alexandrovna for nearly two years longer ... but he too +perceived at last that he was deceiving her and himself in an +unconscionable way, and he too dropped the correspondence. + +I could tell you something about Marya Alexandrovna, gentle reader, but +you will find out what she was from her letters. Alexey wrote his first +letter to her soon after she had finally broken with his cousin. He was +at that time in Petersburg; he went suddenly abroad, fell ill, and died +at Dresden. I resolved to print his correspondence with Marya +Alexandrovna, and trust the reader will look at it with indulgence, as +these letters are not love-letters--Heaven forbid! Love-letters are as +a rule only read by two persons (they read them over a thousand times +to make up), and to a third person they are unendurable, if not +ridiculous. + + +I + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _March_ 7, 1840. + + +DEAR MARYA ALEXANDROVNA,-- + +I fancy I have never written to you before, and here I am writing to +you now.... I have chosen a curious time to begin, haven't I? I'll tell +you what gave me the impulse. Mon cousin Théodore was with me to-day, +and...how shall I put it?...and he confided to me as the greatest +secret (he never tells one anything except as a great secret), that he +was in love with the daughter of a gentleman here, and that this time +he is firmly resolved to be married, and that he has already taken the +first step--he has declared himself! I made haste, of course, to +congratulate him on an event so agreeable for him; he has been longing +to declare himself for a great while...but inwardly, I must own, I was +rather astonished. Although I knew that everything was over between +you, still I had fancied.... In short, I was surprised. I had made +arrangements to go out to see friends to-day, but I have stopped at +home and mean to have a little gossip with you. If you do not care to +listen to me, fling this letter forthwith into the fire. I warn you I +mean to be frank, though I feel you are fully justified in taking me +for a rather impertinent person. Observe, however, that I would not +have taken up my pen if I had not known your sister was not with you; +she is staying, so Théodore told me, the whole summer with your aunt, +Madame B---. God give her every blessing! + +And so, this is how it has all worked out.... But I am not going to +offer you my friendship and all that; I am shy as a rule of +high-sounding speeches and 'heartfelt' effusions. In beginning to write +this letter, I simply obeyed a momentary impulse. If there is another +feeling latent within me, let it remain hidden under a bushel for the +time. + +I'm not going to offer you sympathy either. In sympathising with +others, people for the most part want to get rid, as quick as they can, +of an unpleasant feeling of involuntary, egoistic regret.... I +understand genuine, warm sympathy ... but such sympathy you would not +accept from just any one.... Do, please, get angry with me.... If +you're angry, you'll be sure to read my missive to the end. + +But what right have I to write to you, to talk of my friendship, of my +feelings, of consolation? None, absolutely none; that I am bound to +admit, and I can only throw myself on your kindness. + +Do you know what the preface of my letter's like? I'll tell you: some +Mr. N. or M. walking into the drawing-room of a lady who doesn't in the +least expect him, and who does, perhaps, expect some one else.... He +realises that he has come at an unlucky moment, but there's no help for +it.... He sits down, begins talking...goodness knows what about: +poetry, the beauties of nature, the advantages of a good +education...talks the most awful rot, in fact. But, meanwhile, the +first five minutes have gone by, he has settled himself comfortably; +the lady has resigned herself to the inevitable, and so Mr. N. or M. +regains his self-possession, takes breath, and begins a real +conversation--to the best of his ability. + +In spite, though, of all this rigmarole, I don't still feel quite +comfortable. I seem to see your bewildered--even rather wrathful--face; +I feel that it will be almost impossible you should not ascribe to me +some hidden motives, and so, like a Roman who has committed some folly, +I wrap myself majestically in my toga, and await in silence your final +sentence.... + +The question is: Will you allow me to go on writing to you?--I remain +sincerely and warmly devoted to you, + +ALEXEY S. + + +II + + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _March_ 22, 1840. + +DEAR SIR, + +ALEXEY PETROVITCH, + +I have received your letter, and I really don't know what to say to +you. I should not even have answered you at all, if it had not been +that I fancied that under your jesting remarks there really lies hid a +feeling of some friendliness. Your letter made an unpleasant impression +on me. In answer to your rigmarole, as you call it, let me too put to +you one question: _What for?_ What have I to do with you, or you with +me? I do not ascribe to you any bad motives ... on the contrary, I'm +grateful for your sympathy ... but we are strangers to each other, and +I, just now at least, feel not the slightest inclination for greater +intimacy with any one whatever.--With sincere esteem, I remain, etc., + +MARYA B. + + +III + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _March_ 30. + +Thank you, Marya Alexandrovna, thank you for your note, brief as it +was. All this time I have been in great suspense; twenty times a day I +have thought of you and my letter. You can't imagine how bitterly I +laughed at myself; but now I am in an excellent frame of mind, and very +much pleased with myself. Marya Alexandrovna, I am going to begin a +correspondence with you! Confess, this was not at all what you expected +after your answer; I'm surprised myself at my boldness.... Well, I +don't care, here goes! But don't be uneasy; I want to talk to you, not +of you, but of myself. It's like this, do you see: it's absolutely +needful for me, in the old-fashioned phraseology, to open my heart to +some one. I have not the slightest right to select you for my +confidant--agreed. + +But listen: I won't demand of you an answer to my letters; I don't even +want to know whether you read my 'rigmarole'; but, in the name of all +that's holy, don't send my letters back to me! + +Let me tell you, I am utterly alone on earth. In my youth I led a +solitary life, though I never, I remember, posed as a Byronic hero; but +first, circumstances, and secondly, a faculty of imaginative dreaming +and a love for dreaming, rather cool blood, pride, indolence--a number +of different causes, in fact, cut me off from the society of men. The +transition from dream-life to real life took place in me late...perhaps +too late, perhaps it has not fully taken place up to now. So long as I +found entertainment in my own thoughts and feelings, so long as I was +capable of abandoning myself to causeless and unuttered transports and +so on, I did not complain of my solitude. I had no associates; I had +what are called friends. Sometimes I needed their presence, as an +electrical machine needs a discharger--and that was all. Love... of that +subject we will not speak for the present. But now, I will own, now +solitude weighs heavy on me; and at the same time, I see no escape from +my position. I do not blame fate; I alone am to blame and am deservedly +punished. In my youth I was absorbed by one thing--my precious self; I +took my simple-hearted self-love for modesty; I avoided society--and +here I am now, a fearful bore to myself. What am I to do with myself? +There is no one I love; all my relations with other people are somehow +strained and false. + +And I've no memories either, for in all my past life I can find nothing +but my own personality. Save me. To you I have made no passionate +protestations of love. You I have never smothered in a flood of aimless +babble. I passed by you rather coldly, and it is just for that reason I +make up my mind to have recourse to you now. (I have had thoughts of +doing so before this, but at that time you were not free....) Among all +my self-created sensations, pleasures and sufferings, the one genuine +feeling was the not great, but instinctive attraction to you, which +withered up at the time, like a single ear of wheat in the midst of +worthless weeds.... Let me just for once look into another face, into +another soul--my own face has grown hateful to me. I am like a man who +should have been condemned to live all his life in a room with walls of +looking-glass.... I do not ask of you any sort of confessions--oh +mercy, no! Bestow on me a sister's unspoken sympathy, or at least the +simple curiosity of a reader. I will entertain you, I will really. + +Meanwhile I have the honour to be your sincere friend, + +A. S. + + +IV + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _April_ 7. + +I am writing to you again, though I foresee that without your approval +I shall soon cease writing. I must own that you cannot but feel some +distrust of me. Well, perhaps you are right too. In old days I should +have triumphantly announced to you (and very likely I should have quite +believed my own words myself) that I had 'developed,' made progress, +since the time when we parted. With condescending, almost affectionate, +contempt I should have referred to my past, and with touching +self-conceit have initiated you into the secrets of my real, present +life ... but, now, I assure you, Marya Alexandrovna, I'm positively +ashamed and sick to remember the capers and antics cut at times by my +paltry egoism. Don't be afraid: I am not going to force upon you any +great truths, any profound views. I have none of them--of those truths +and views. I have become a simple good fellow--really. I am bored, +Marya Alexandrovna, I'm simply bored past all enduring. That is why I +am writing to you.... I really believe we may come to be friends.... + +But I'm positively incapable of talking to you, till you hold out a +hand to me, till I get a note from you with the one word 'Yes.' Marya +Alexandrovna, are you willing to listen to me? That's the +question.--Yours devotedly, + +A. S. + + +V + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _April_ 14. + +What a strange person you are! Very well, then.--Yes! + +MARYA B. + + +VI + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _May_ 2, 1840. + +Hurrah! Thanks, Marya Alexandrovna, thanks! You are a very kind and +indulgent creature. + +I will begin according to my promise to talk about myself, and I shall +talk with a relish approaching to appetite.... That's just it. Of +anything in the world one may speak with fire, with enthusiasm, with +ecstasy, but with appetite one talks only of oneself. + +Let me tell you, during the last few days a very strange experience has +befallen me. I have for the first time taken an all-round view of my +past. You understand me. Every one of us often recalls what is +over--with regret, or vexation, or simply from nothing to do. But to +bend a cold, clear gaze over all one's past life--as a traveller turns +and looks from a high mountain on the plain he has passed through--is +only possible at a certain age ... and a secret chill clutches at a +man's heart when it happens to him for the first time. Mine, anyway, +felt a sick pang. While we are young, _such_ an all-round view is +impossible. But my youth is over, and, like one who has climbed on to a +mountain, everything lies clear before me. + +Yes, my youth is gone, gone never to return!... Here it lies before me, +as it were in the palm of my hand. + +A sorry spectacle! I will confess to you, Marya Alexandrovna, I am very +sorry for myself. My God! my God! Can it be that I have myself so +utterly ruined my life, so mercilessly embroiled and tortured +myself!... Now I have come to my senses, but it's too late. Has it ever +happened to you to save a fly from a spider? Has it? You remember, you +put it in the sun; its wings and legs were stuck together, glued.... +How awkwardly it moved, how clumsily it attempted to get clear!... +After prolonged efforts, it somehow gets better, crawls, tries to open +its wings ... but there is no more frolicking for it, no more +light-hearted buzzing in the sunshine, as before, when it was flying +through the open window into the cool room and out again, freely +winging its way into the hot air.... The fly, at least, fell through +none of its own doing into the dreadful web ... but I! + +I have been my own spider! + +And, at the same time, I cannot greatly blame myself. Who, indeed, tell +me, pray, is ever to blame for anything--alone? Or, to put it better, +we are all to blame, and yet we can't be blamed. Circumstances +determine us; they shove us into one road or another, and then they +punish us for it. Every man has his destiny.... Wait a bit, wait a bit! +A cleverly worked-out but true comparison has just come into my head. +As the clouds are first condensed from the vapours of earth, rise from +out of her bosom, then separate, move away from her, and at last bring +her prosperity or ruin: so, about every one of us, and out of +ourselves, is fashioned--how is one to express it?--is fashioned a sort +of element, which has afterwards a destructive or saving influence on +us. This element I call destiny.... In other words, and speaking +simply, every one makes his own destiny and destiny makes every one.... + +Every one makes his destiny--yes!... but people like us make it too +much--that's what's wrong with us! Consciousness is awakened too early +in us; too early we begin to keep watch on ourselves.... We Russians +have set ourselves no other task in life but the cultivation of our own +personality, and when we're children hardly grown-up we set to work to +cultivate it, this luckless personality! Receiving no definite guidance +from without, with no real respect for anything, no strong belief in +anything, we are free to make what we choose of ourselves ... one can't +expect every one to understand on the spot the uselessness of intellect +'seething in vain activity' ... and so we get again one monster the +more in the world, one more of those worthless creatures in whom habits +of self-consciousness distort the very striving for truth, and a +ludicrous simplicity exists side by side with a pitiful duplicity ... +one of those beings of impotent, restless thought who all their lives +know neither the satisfaction of natural activity, nor genuine +suffering, nor the genuine thrill of conviction.... Mixing up together +in ourselves the defects of all ages, we rob each defect of its good +redeeming side ... we are as silly as children, but we are not sincere +as they are; we are cold as old people, but we have none of the good +sense of old age.... To make up, we are psychologists. Oh yes, we are +great psychologists! But our psychology is akin to pathology; our +psychology is that subtle study of the laws of morbid condition and +morbid development, with which healthy people have nothing to do.... +And, what is the chief point, we are not young, even in our youth we +are not young! + +And at the same time--why libel ourselves? Were we never young, did we +never know the play, the fire, the thrill of life's forces? We too have +been in Arcady, we too have strayed about her bright meadows!... Have +you chanced, strolling about a copse, to come across those dark +grasshoppers which, jumping up from under your very feet, suddenly with +a whirring sound expand bright red wings, fly a few yards, and then +drop again into the grass? So our dark youth at times spread its +particoloured wings for a few moments and for no long flight.... Do you +remember our silent evening walks, the four of us together, beside your +garden fence, after some long, warm, spirited conversation? Do you +remember those blissful moments? Nature, benign and stately, took us to +her bosom. We plunged, swooning, into a flood of bliss. All around, the +sunset with a sudden and soft flush, the glowing sky, the earth bathed +in light, everything on all sides seemed full of the fresh and fiery +breath of youth, the joyous triumph of some deathless happiness. The +sunset flamed; and, like it, our rapturous hearts burned with soft and +passionate fire, and the tiny leaves of the young trees quivered +faintly and expectantly over our heads, as though in response to the +inward tremor of vague feelings and anticipations in us. Do you +remember the purity, the goodness and trustfulness of ideas, the +softening of noble hopes, the silence of full hearts? Were we not +really then worth something better than what life has brought us to? +Why was it ordained for us only at rare moments to see the longed-for +shore, and never to stand firmly on it, never to touch it: + + 'Never to weep with joy, like the first Jew + Upon the border of the promised land'! + +These two lines of Fet's remind me of others, also his.... Do you +remember once, as we stood in the highroad, we saw in the distance a +cloud of pink dust, blown up by the light breeze against the setting +sun? 'In an eddying cloud,' you began, and we were all still at once to +listen: + + 'In an eddying cloud + Dust rises in the distance ... + Rider or man on foot + Is seen not in the dust. + I see some one trotting + On a gallant steed ... + Friend of mine, friend far away, + Think! oh, think of me!' + +You ceased ... we all felt a shudder pass over us, as though the breath +of love had flitted over our hearts, and each of us--I am sure of +it--felt irresistibly drawn into the distance, the unknown distance, +where the phantom of bliss rises and lures through the mist. And all +the while, observe the strangeness; why, one wonders, should we have a +yearning for the far away? Were we not in love with each other? Was not +happiness 'so close, so possible'? As I asked you just now: why was it +we did not touch the longed-for shore? Because falsehood walked hand in +hand with us; because it poisoned our best feelings; because everything +in us was artificial and strained; because we did not love each other +at all, but were only trying to love, fancying we loved.... + +But enough, enough! why inflame one's wounds? Besides, it is all over +and done with. What was good in our past moved me, and on that good I +will take leave of you for a while. It's time to make an end of this +long letter. I am going out for a breath here of the May air, in which +spring is breaking through the dry fastness of winter with a sort of +damp, keen warmth. Farewell.--Yours, + +A. S. + +VII + + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----,_May_ 1840. + +I have received your letter, Alexey Petrovitch, and do you know what +feeling t aroused in me?--indignation ... yes, indignation ... and I +will explain to you at once why it aroused just that feeling in me. +It's only a pity I'm not a great hand with my pen; I rarely write, and +am not good at expressing my thoughts precisely and in few words. But +you will, I hope, come to my aid. You must try, on your side, to +understand me, if only to find out why I am indignant with you. + +Tell me--you have brains--have you ever asked yourself what sort of +creature a Russian woman is? what is her destiny? her position in the +world--in short, what is her life? I don't know if you have had time to +put this question to yourself; I can't picture to myself how you would +answer it.... I should, perhaps, in conversation be capable of giving +you my ideas on the subject, but on paper I am scarcely equal to it. No +matter, though. This is the point: you will certainly agree with me +that we women, those of us at least who are not satisfied with the +common interests of domestic life, receive our final education, in any +case, from you men: you have a great and powerful influence on us. Now, +consider what you do to us. I am talking about young girls, especially +those who, like me, live in the wilds, and there are very many such in +Russia. Besides, I don't know anything of others and cannot judge of +them. Picture to yourself such a girl. Her education, suppose, is +finished; she begins to live, to enjoy herself. But enjoyment alone is +not much to her. She demands much from life, she reads, and dreams ... +of love. Always nothing but love! you will say.... Suppose so; but that +word means a great deal to her. I repeat that I am not speaking of a +girl to whom thinking is tiresome and boring.... She looks round her, +is waiting for the time when he will come for whom her soul yearns.... +At last he makes his appearance--she is captivated; she is wax in his +hands. All--happiness and love and thought--all have come with a rush +together with him; all her tremors are soothed, all her doubts solved +by him. Truth itself seems speaking by his lips. She venerates him, is +over-awed at her own happiness, learns, loves. Great is his power over +her at that time!... If he were a hero, he would fire her, would teach +her to sacrifice herself, and all sacrifices would be easy to her! But +there are no heroes in our times.... Anyway, he directs her as he +pleases. She devotes herself to whatever interests him, every word of +his sinks into her soul. She has not yet learned how worthless and +empty and false a word may be, how little it costs him who utters it, +and how little it deserves belief! After these first moments of bliss +and hope there usually comes--through circumstances--(circumstances +are always to blame)--there comes a parting. They say there have been +instances of two kindred souls, on getting to know one another, +becoming at once inseparably united; I have heard it said, too, that +things did not always go smoothly with them in consequence ... but of +what I have not seen myself I will not speak,--and that the pettiest +calculation, the most pitiful prudence, can exist in a youthful heart, +side by side with the most passionate enthusiasm--of that I have to my +sorrow had practical experience. And so, the parting comes.... Happy +the girl who realises at once that it is the end of everything, who +does not beguile herself with expectations! But you, valorous, just +men, for the most part, have not the pluck, nor even the desire, to +tell us the truth.... It is less disturbing for you to deceive us.... +However, I am ready to believe that you deceive yourselves together +with us.... Parting! To bear separation is both hard and easy. If only +there be perfect, untouched faith in him whom one loves, the soul can +master the anguish of parting.... I will say more. It is only then, +when she is left alone, that she finds out the sweetness of +solitude--not fruitless, but filled with memories and ideas. It is only +then that she finds out herself, comes to her true self, grows +strong.... In the letters of her friend far away she finds a support +for herself; in her own, she, very likely for the first time, finds +full self-expression.... But as two people who start from a stream's +source, along opposite banks, at first can touch hands, then only +communicate by voice, and finally lose sight of each other altogether; +so two natures grow apart at last by separation. Well, what then? you +will say; it's clear they were not destined to be together.... But +herein the difference between a man and a woman comes out. For a man it +means nothing to begin a new life, to shake off all his past; a woman +cannot do this. No, she cannot fling off her past, she cannot break +away from her roots--no, a thousand times no! And now begins a pitiful +and ludicrous spectacle.... Gradually losing hope and faith in +herself--and how bitter that is you cannot even imagine!--she pines and +wears herself out alone, obstinately clinging to her memories and +turning away from everything that the life around offers her.... But +he? Look for him! where is he? And is it worth his while to stand +still? When has he time to look round? Why, it's all a thing of the +past for him. Or else this is what happens: it happens that he feels a +sudden inclination to meet the former object of his feelings, that he +even makes an excursion with that aim.... But, mercy on us! the pitiful +conceit that leads him into doing that! In his gracious sympathy, in +his would-be friendly advice, in his indulgent explanation of the past, +such consciousness of his superiority is manifest! It is so agreeable +and cheering for him to let himself feel every instant--what a clever +person he is, and how kind! And how little he understands what he has +done! How clever he is at not even guessing what is passing in a +woman's heart, and how offensive is his compassion if he does guess +it!... Tell me, please, where is she to get strength to bear all this? +Recollect this, too: for the most part, a girl in whose brain--to her +misfortune--thought has begun to stir, such a girl, when she begins to +love, and falls under a man's influence, inevitably grows apart from +her family, her circle of friends. She was not, even before then, +satisfied with their life, though she moved in step with them, while +she treasured all her secret dreams in her soul.... But the discrepancy +soon becomes apparent.... They cease to comprehend her, and are ready +to look askance at everything she does.... At first this is nothing to +her, but afterwards, afterwards ... when she is left alone, when what +she was striving towards, for which she had sacrificed everything--when +heaven is not gained while everything near, everything possible, is +lost--what is there to support her? Jeers, sly hints, the vulgar +triumph of coarse commonsense, she could still endure somehow ... but +what is she to do, what is to be her refuge, when an inner voice begins +to whisper to her that all of them are right and she was wrong, that +life, whatever it may be, is better than dreams, as health is better +than sickness ... when her favourite pursuits, her favourite books, +grow hateful to her, books out of which there is no reading +happiness--what, tell me, is to be her support? Must she not inevitably +succumb in such a struggle? how is she to live and to go on living in +such a desert? To know oneself beaten and to hold out one's hand, like +a beggar, to persons quite indifferent, for them to bestow the sympathy +which the proud heart had once fancied it could well dispense with--all +that would be nothing! But to feel yourself ludicrous at the very +instant when you are shedding bitter, bitter tears ... O God, spare +such suffering!... + +My hands are trembling, and I am quite in a fever.... My face burns. It +is time to stop.... I'll send off this letter quickly, before I'm +ashamed of its feebleness. But for God's sake, in your answer not a +word--do you hear?--not a word of sympathy, or I'll never write to you +again. Understand me: I should not like you to take this letter as the +outpouring of a misunderstood soul, complaining.... Ah! I don't +care!--Good-bye. + +M. + + +VIII + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _May_ 28, 1840. + +Marya Alexandrovna, you are a splendid person ... you ... your letter +revealed the truth to me at last! My God! what suffering! A man is +constantly thinking that now at last he has reached simplicity, that +he's no longer showing off, humbugging, lying ... but when you come to +look at him more attentively, he's become almost worse than before. And +this, too, one must remark: the man himself, alone that is, never +attains this self-recognition, try as he will; his eyes cannot see his +own defects, just as the compositor's wearied eyes cannot see the slips +he makes; another fresh eye is needed for that. My thanks to you, Marya +Alexandrovna.... You see, I speak to you of myself; of you I dare not +speak.... Ah, how absurd my last letter seems to me now, so flowery and +sentimental! I beg you earnestly, go on with your confession. I fancy +you, too, will be the better for it, and it will do me great good. It's +a true saying: 'A woman's wit's better than many a reason,' and a +woman's heart's far and away--by God, yes! If women knew how much +better, nobler, and wiser they are than men--yes, wiser--they would +grow conceited and be spoiled. But happily they don't know it; they +don't know it because their intelligence isn't in the habit of turning +incessantly upon themselves, as with us. They think very little about +themselves--that's their weakness and their strength; that's the whole +secret--I won't say of our superiority, but of our power. They lavish +their soul, as a prodigal heir does his father's gold, while we exact a +percentage on every worthless morsel.... How are they to hold their own +with us?... All this is not compliments, but the simple truth, proved +by experience. Once more, I beseech you, Marya Alexandrovna, go on +writing to me.... If you knew all that is coming into my brain! ... But +I have no wish now to speak, I want to listen to you. My turn will come +later. Write, write.--Your devoted, + +A. S. + + +IX + + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _June_ 12, 1840. + +I had hardly sent off my last letter to you, Alexey Petrovitch, when I +regretted it; but there was no help for it then. One thing reassures me +somewhat: I am sure you realised that it was under the influence of +feelings long ago suppressed that it was written, and you excused me. I +did not even read through, at the time, what I had written to you; I +remember my heart beat so violently that the pen shook in my fingers. +However, though I should probably have expressed myself differently if +I had allowed myself time to reflect, I don't mean, all the same, to +disavow my own words, or the feelings which I described to you as best +I could. To-day I am much cooler and far more self-possessed. + +I remember at the end of my letter I spoke of the painful position of a +girl who is conscious of being solitary, even among her own people.... +I won't expatiate further upon them, but will rather tell you a few +instances; I think I shall bore you less in that way. In the first +place, then, let me tell you that all over the country-side I am never +called anything but the female philosopher. The ladies especially +honour me with that name. Some assert that I sleep with a Latin book in +my hand, and in spectacles; others declare that I know how to extract +cube roots, whatever they may be. Not a single one of them doubts that +I wear manly apparel on the sly, and instead of 'good-morning', address +people spasmodically with 'Georges Sand!'--and indignation grows apace +against the female philosopher. We have a neighbour, a man of +five-and-forty, a great wit ... at least, he is reputed a great wit ... +for him my poor personality is an inexhaustible subject of jokes. He +used to tell of me that directly the moon rose I could not take my eyes +off it, and he will mimic the way in which I gaze at it; and declares +that I positively take my coffee with moonshine instead of with +milk--that's to say, I put my cup in the moonlight. He swears that I +use phrases of this kind--'It is easy because it is difficult, though +on the other hand it is difficult because it is easy'.... He asserts +that I am always looking for a word, always striving 'thither,' and +with comic rage inquires: 'whither-thither? whither?' He has also +circulated a story about me that I ride at night up and down by the +river, singing Schubert's Serenade, or simply moaning, 'Beethoven, +Beethoven!' She is, he will say, such an impassioned old person, and so +on, and so on. Of course, all this comes straight to me. This surprises +you, perhaps. But do not forget that four years have passed since your +stay in these parts. You remember how every one frowned upon us in +those days. Their turn has come now. And all that, too, is no +consequence. I have to hear many things that wound my heart more than +that. I won't say anything about my poor, good mother's never having +been able to forgive me for your cousin's indifference to me. But my +whole life is burning away like a house on fire, as my nurse expresses +it. 'Of course,' I am constantly hearing, 'we can't keep pace with you! +we are plain people, we are guided by nothing but common-sense. Though, +when you come to think of it, what have all these metaphysics, and +books, and intimacies with learned folks brought you to?' You perhaps +remember my sister--not the one to whom you were once not +indifferent--but the other elder one, who is married. Her husband, if +you recollect, is a simple and rather comic person; you often used to +make fun of him in those days. But she's happy, after all; she's the +mother of a family, she's fond of her husband, her husband adores +her.... 'I am like every one else,' she says to me sometimes, 'but +you!' And she's right; I envy her.... + +And yet, I feel I should not care to change with her, all the same. Let +them call me a female philosopher, a queer fish, or what they choose--I +will remain true to the end ... to what? to an ideal, or what? Yes, to +my ideal. Yes, I will be faithful to the end to what first set my heart +throbbing--to what I have recognised, and recognise still, as truth, +and good.... If only my strength does not fail me, if only my divinity +does not turn out to be a dumb and soulless idol!... + +If you really feel any friendship for me, if you have really not +forgotten me, you ought to aid me, you ought to solve my doubts, and +strengthen my convictions.... + +Though after all, what help can you give me? 'All that's rubbish, +fiddle-faddle,' was said to me yesterday by my uncle--I think you don't +know him--a retired naval officer, a very sensible man; 'husband, +children, a pot of soup; to look after the husband and children and +keep an eye on the pot--that's what a woman wants.'... Tell me, is he +right? + +If he really is right, I can still make up for the past, I can still +get into the common groove. Why should I wait any longer? what have I +to hope for? In one of your letters you spoke of the wings of youth. +How often--how long they are tied! And later on comes the time when +they fall off, and there is no rising above earth, no flying to heaven +any more. Write to me.--Yours, + +M. + + +X + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _June_ 16, 1840. + +I hasten to answer your letter, dear Marya Alexandrovna. I will confess +to you that if it were not ... I can't say for business, for I have +none ... if it were not that I am stupidly accustomed to this place, I +should have gone off to see you again, and should have talked to my +heart's content, but on paper it all comes out cold and dead.... + +Marya Alexandrovna, I tell you again, women are better than men, and +you ought to prove this in practice. Let such as us fling away our +convictions, like cast-off clothes, or abandon them for a crust of +bread, or lull them into an untroubled sleep, and put over them--as +over the dead, once dear to us--a gravestone, at which to come at rare +intervals to pray--let us do all this; but you women must not be false +to yourselves, you must not be false to your ideal.... That word has +become ridiculous.... To fear being ridiculous--is not to love truth. +It happens, indeed, that the senseless laughter of the fool drives even +good men into giving up a great deal ... as, for instance, the defence +of an absent friend.... I have been guilty of that myself. But, I +repeat, you women are better than we.... In trifling matters you give +in sooner than we; but you know how to face fearful odds better than +we. I don't want to give you either advice or help--how should I? +besides, you have no need of it. But I hold out my hand to you; I say +to you, Have patience, struggle on to the end; and let me tell you, +that, as a sentiment, the consciousness of an honestly sustained +struggle is almost higher than the triumph of victory.... Victory does +not depend on ourselves. Of course your uncle is right from a certain +point of view; family life is everything for a woman; for her there is +no other life. + +But what does that prove? None but Jesuits will maintain that any means +are good if only they attain the end. It's false! it's false! Feet +sullied with the mud of the road are unworthy to go into a holy temple. +At the end of your letter is a phrase I do not like; you want to get +into the common groove; take care, don't make a false step! Besides--do +not forget,--there is no erasing the past; and however much you try, +whatever pressure you put on yourself, you will not turn into your +sister. You have reached a higher level than she; but your soul has +been scorched in the fire, hers is untouched. Descend to her level, +stoop to her, you can; but nature will not give up her rights, and the +burnt place will not grow again.... + +You are afraid--let us speak plainly--you are afraid of being left an +old maid. You are, I know, already twenty-six. Certainly the position +of old maids is an unenviable one; every one is so ready to laugh at +them, every one comments with such ungenerous amusement on their +peculiarities and weaknesses. But if you scrutinise with a little +attention any old bachelor, one may just as well point the finger of +scorn at him; one will find plenty in him, too, to laugh at. There's no +help for it. There is no getting happiness by struggling for it. But we +must not forget that it's not happiness, but human dignity, that's the +chief aim in life. + +You describe your position with great humour. I well understand all the +bitterness of it; your position one may really call tragic. But let me +tell you you are not alone in it; there is scarcely any quite modern +person who isn't placed in it. You will say that that makes it no +better for you; but I am of opinion that suffering in company with +thousands is quite a different matter from suffering alone. It is not a +matter of egoism, but a sense of a general inevitability which comes +in. + +All this is very fine, granted, you will say ... but not practicable in +reality. Why not practicable? I have hitherto imagined, and I hope I +shall never cease to imagine, that in God's world everything honest, +good, and true is practicable, and will sooner or later come to pass, +and not only will be realised, but is already being realised. Let each +man only hold firm in his place, not lose patience, nor desire the +impossible, but do all in his power. But I fancy I have gone off too +much into abstractions. I will defer the continuation of my reflections +till the next letter; but I cannot lay down my pen without warmly, most +warmly, pressing your hand, and wishing you from my soul all that is +good on earth. + +Yours, A. S. + +_P.S._--By the way, you say it's useless for you to wait, that you have +nothing to hope for; how do you know that, let me ask? + + +XI + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _June_ 30, 1840. + +How grateful I am to you for your letter, Alexey Petrovitch! How much +good it did me! I see you really are a good and trustworthy man, and so +I shall not be reserved with you. I trust you. I know you would make no +unkind use of my openness, and will give me friendly counsel. Here is +the question. + +You noticed at the end of my letter a phrase which you did not quite +like. I will tell what it had reference to. There is one of the +neighbours here ... he was not here when you were, and you have not +seen him. He ... I could marry him if I liked; he is still young, +well-educated, and has property. There are no difficulties on the part +of my parents; on the contrary, they--I know for a fact--desire this +marriage. He is a good man, and I think he loves me ... but he is so +spiritless and narrow, his aspirations are so limited, that I cannot +but be conscious of my superiority to him. He is aware of this, and as +it were rejoices in it, and that is just what sets me against him. I +cannot respect him, though he has an excellent heart. What am I to do? +tell me! Think for me and write me your opinion sincerely. + +But how grateful I am to you for your letter!... Do you know, I have +been haunted at times by such bitter thoughts.... Do you know, I had +come to the point of being almost ashamed of every feeling--not of +enthusiasm only, but even of faith; I used to shut a book with vexation +whenever there was anything about hope or happiness in it, and turned +away from a cloudless sky, from the fresh green of the trees, from +everything that was smiling and joyful. What a painful condition it +was! I say, _was_ ... as though it were over! + +I don't know whether it is over; I know that if it does not return I am +indebted to you for it. Do you see, Alexey Petrovitch, how much good +you have done, perhaps, without suspecting it yourself! By the way, do +you know I feel very sorry for you? We are now in the full blaze of +summer, the days are exquisite, the sky blue and brilliant.... It +couldn't be lovelier in Italy even, and you are staying in the +stifling, baking town, and walking on the burning pavement. What +induces you to do so? You might at least move into some summer villa +out of town. They say there are bright spots at Peterhof, on the +sea-coast. + +I should like to write more to you, but it's impossible. Such a sweet +fragrance comes in from the garden that I can't stay indoors. I am +going to put on my hat and go for a walk. + + +... Good-bye till another time, good Alexey Petrovitch. Yours +devotedly, M. B. + +_P.S._--I forgot to tell you ... only fancy, that witty gentleman, +about whom I wrote to you the other day, has made me a declaration of +love, and in the most ardent terms. I thought at first he was laughing +at me; but he finished up with a formal proposal--what do you think of +him, after all his libels! But he is positively too old. Yesterday +evening, to tease him, I sat down to the piano before the open window, +in the moonlight, and played Beethoven. It was so nice to feel its cold +light on my face, so delicious to fill the fragrant night air with the +sublime music, through which one could hear at times the singing of a +nightingale. It is long since I have been so happy. But write to me +about what I asked you at the beginning of my letter; it is very +important. + + +XII + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _July_ 8, 1840. + +DEAR MARYA ALEXANDROVNA,--Here is my opinion in a couple of words: both +the old bachelor and the young suitor--overboard with them both! There +is no need even to consider it. Neither of them is worthy of +you--that's as clear as that twice two makes four. The young neighbour +is very likely a good-natured person, but that's enough about him! I am +convinced that there is nothing in common between him and you, and you +can fancy how amusing it would be for you to live together! Besides, +why be in a hurry? Is it a possible thing that a woman like you--I +don't want to pay compliments, and that's why I don't expatiate +further--that such a woman should meet no one who would be capable of +appreciating her? No, Marya Alexandrovna, listen to me, if you really +believe that I am your friend, and that my advice is of use. But +confess, it was agreeable to see the old scoffer at your feet.... If I +had been in your place, I'd have kept him singing Beethoven's Adelaïda +and gazing at the moon the whole night long. + +Enough of them, though,--your adorers! It's not of them I want to talk +to you to-day. I am in a strange, half-irritated, half-emotional state +of mind to-day, in consequence of a letter I got yesterday. I am +enclosing a copy of it to you. This letter was written by one of my +friends of long ago, a colleague in the service, a good-natured but +rather limited person. He went abroad two years ago, and till now has +not written to me once. Here is his letter.--_N.B._ He is very +good-looking. + +'CHER ALEXIS,--I am in Naples, sitting at the window in my room, in +Chiaja. The weather is superb. I have been staring a long while at the +sea, then I was seized with impatience, and suddenly the brilliant idea +entered my head of writing a letter to you. I always felt drawn to you, +my dear boy--on my honour I did. And so now I feel an inclination to +pour out my soul into your bosom ... that's how one expresses it, I +believe, in your exalted language. And why I've been overcome with +impatience is this. I'm expecting a friend--a woman; we're going +together to Baiae to eat oysters and oranges, and see the tanned +shepherds in red caps dance the tarantella, to bask in the sun, like +lizards--in short, to enjoy life to the utmost. My dear boy, I am more +happy than I can possibly tell you. + +If only I had your style--oh! what a picture I would draw for you! But +unfortunately, as you are aware, I'm an illiterate person. The woman I +am expecting, and who has kept me now more than a hour continually +starting and looking at the door, loves me--but how I love her I fancy +even your fluent pen could not describe. + +'I must tell you that it is three months since I got to know her, and +from the very first day of our acquaintance my love mounts continually +_crescendo_, like a chromatic scale, higher and higher, and at the +present moment I am simply in the seventh heaven. I jest, but in +reality my devotion to this woman is something extraordinary, +supernatural. Fancy, I scarcely talk to her, I can do nothing but stare +at her, and laugh like a fool. I sit at her feet, I feel that I'm +awfully silly and happy, simply inexcusably happy. It sometimes happens +that she lays her hand on my head.... Well, I tell you, simply ... But +there, you can't understand it; you 're a philosopher and always were a +philosopher. Her name is Nina, Ninetta, as you like; she's the daughter +of a rich merchant here. Fine as any of your Raphaels; fiery as +gunpowder, gay, so clever that it's amazing how she can care for a fool +like me; she sings like a bird, and her eyes ... + +'Please excuse this unintentional break.... I fancied the door +creaked.... No, she's not coming yet, the heartless wretch! You will +ask me how all this is going to end, and what I intend to do with +myself, and whether I shall stay here long? I know nothing about it, my +boy, and I don't want to. What will be, will be.... Why, if one were to +be for ever stopping and considering ... 'She! ... she's running up +the staircase, singing.... She is here. Well, my boy, good-bye.... I've +no time for you now, I'm so sorry. She has bespattered the whole +letter; she slapped a wet nosegay down on the paper. For the first +moment, she thought I was writing to a woman; when she knew that it was +to a friend, she told me to send her greetings, and ask you if you have +any flowers, and whether they are sweet? Well, good-bye. ... If you +could hear her laughing. Silver can't ring like it; and the good-nature +in every note of it--you want to kiss her little feet for it. We are +going, going. Don't mind the untidy smudges, and envy yours, M.' + +The letter was in fact bespattered all over, and smelt of +orange-blossom ... two white petals had stuck to the paper. This letter +has agitated me.... I remember my stay in Naples.... The weather was +magnificent then too--May was just beginning; I had just reached +twenty-two; but I knew no Ninetta. I sauntered about alone, consumed +with a thirst for bliss, at once torturing and sweet, so sweet that it +was, as it were, like bliss itself. ... Ah, what is it to be young! ... +I remember I went out once for a row in the bay. There were two of us; +the boatman and I ... what did you imagine? What a night it was, and +what a sky, what stars, how they quivered and broke on the waves! with +what delicate flame the water flashed and glimmered under the oars, +what delicious fragrance filled the whole sea--cannot describe this, +'eloquent' though my style may be. In the harbour was a French ship of +the line. It was all red with lights; long streaks of red, the +reflection of the lighted windows, stretched over the dark sea. The +captain of the ship was giving a ball. The gay music floated across to +me in snatches at long intervals. I recall in particular the trill of a +little flute in the midst of the deep blare of the trumpets; it seemed +to flit, like a butterfly, about my boat. I bade the man row to the +ship; twice he took me round it. ... I caught glimpses at the windows +of women's figures, borne gaily round in the whirl-wind of the +waltz.... I told the boatman to row away, far away, straight into the +darkness.... I remember a long while the music persistently pursued +me.... At last the sounds died away. I stood up in the boat, and in the +dumb agony of desire stretched out my arms to the sea.... Oh! how my +heart ached at that moment! How bitter was my loneliness to me! With +what rapture would I have abandoned myself utterly then, utterly ... +utterly, if there had been any one to abandon myself to! With what a +bitter emotion in my soul I flung myself down in the bottom of the boat +and, like Repetilov, asked to be taken anywhere, anywhere away! But my +friend here has experienced nothing like that. And why should he? He +has managed things far more wisely than I. He is living ... while I ... +He may well call me a philosopher.... Strange! they call you a +philosopher too.... What has brought this calamity on both of us? + +I am not living.... But who is to blame for that? Why am I staying on +here, in Petersburg? what am I doing here? why am I wearing away day +after day? why don't I go into the country? What is amiss with our +steppes? has not one free breathing space in them? is one cramped in +them? A strange craze to pursue dreams, when happiness is perhaps +within reach! Resolved! I am going, going to-morrow, if I can. I am +going home--that is, to you,--it's just the same; we're only twenty +versts from one another. Why, after all, grow stale here! And how was +it this idea did not strike me sooner? Dear Marya Alexadrovna, we shall +soon see each other. It's extraordinary, though, that this idea never +entered my head before! I ought to have gone long, long ago. Good-bye +till we meet, Marya Alexandrovna. + +_July_ 9. + +I purposely gave myself twenty-four hours for reflection, and am now +absolutely convinced that I have no reason to stay here. The dust in +the streets is so penetrating that my eyes are bad. To-day I am +beginning to pack, the day after to-morrow I shall most likely start, +and within ten days I shall have the pleasure of seeing you. I trust +you will welcome me as in old days. By the way, your sister is still +staying at your aunt's, isn't she? + +Marya Alexandrovna, let me press your hand warmly, and say from my +heart, Good-bye till we meet. I had been getting ready to go away, but +that letter has hastened my project. Supposing the letter proves +nothing, supposing even Ninetta would not please any one else, me for +instance, still I am going; that's decided now. Till we meet, yours, + +A. S. + + +XIII + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X-----,_July_ 16, 1840. + +You are coming here, Alexey Petrovitch, you will soon be with us, eh? I +will not conceal from you that this news both rejoices and disturbs +me.... How shall we meet? Will the spiritual tie persist which, as it +seems to me, has sprung up between us? Will it not be broken by our +meeting? I don't know; I feel somehow afraid. I will not answer your +last letter, though I could say much; I am putting it all off till our +meeting. My mother is very much pleased at your coming.... She knew I +was corresponding with you. The weather is delicious; we will go a +great many walks, and I will show you some new places I have +discovered.... I especially like one long, narrow valley; it lies +between hillsides covered with forest.... It seems to be hiding in +their windings. A little brook courses through it, scarcely seeming to +move through the thick grass and flowers.... You shall see. Come: +perhaps you will not be bored. + +M.B. + +_P.S._--I think you will not see my sister; she is still staying at my +aunt's. I fancy (but this is between ourselves) she is going to marry a +very agreeable young man--an officer. Why did you send me that letter +from Naples? Life here cannot help seeming dingy and poor in contrast +with that luxuriance and splendour. But Mademoiselle Ninetta is wrong; +flowers grow and smell sweet--with us too. + + +XIV + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _January_ 1841. + +I have written to you several times, Alexey Petrovitch ... you have not +answered. Are you living? Or perhaps you are tired of our +correspondence; perhaps you have found yourself some diversion more +agreeable than what can be afforded for you by the letters of a +provincial young lady. You remembered me, it is easy to see, simply +from want of anything better to do. If that's so, I wish you all +happiness. If you do not even now answer me, I will not trouble you +further. It only remains for me to regret my indiscretion in having +allowed myself to be agitated for nothing, in having held out a hand to +a friend, and having come for one minute out of my lonely corner. I +must remain in it for ever, must lock myself up--that is my apportioned +lot, the lot of all old maids. I ought to accustom myself to this idea. +It's useless to come out into the light of day, needless to wish for +fresh air, when the lungs cannot bear it. By the way, we are now hemmed +in all round by deadly drifts of snow. For the future I will be +wiser.... People don't die of dreariness; but of misery, perhaps, one +might perish. If I am wrong, prove it to me. But I fancy I am not +wrong. In any case, good-bye. I wish you all happiness. + +M. B. + + +XV + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +DRESDEN, _September_ 1842. + +I am writing to you, my dear Marya Alexandrovna, and I am writing only +because I do not want to die without saying good-bye to you, without +recalling myself to your memory. I am given up by the doctors ... and I +feel myself that my life is ebbing away. On my table stands a rose: +before it withers, I shall be no more. This comparison is not, however, +altogether an apt one. A rose is far more interesting than I. + +I am, as you see, abroad. It is now six months since I have been in +Dresden. I received your last letters--I am ashamed to confess--more +than a year ago. I lost some of them and never answered them.... I will +tell you directly why. But it seems you were always dear to me; to no +one but you have I any wish to say good-bye, and perhaps I have no one +else to take leave of. + +Soon after my last letter to you (I was on the very point of going down +to your neighbourhood, and had made various plans in advance) an +incident occurred which had, one may truly say, a great influence on my +fate, so great an influence that here I am dying, thanks to that +incident. I went to the theatre to see a ballet. I never cared for +ballets; and for every sort of actress, singer, and dancer I had always +had a secret feeling of repulsion.... But it is clear there's no +changing one's fate, and no one knows himself, and one cannot foresee +the future. In reality, in life it's only the unexpected that happens, +and we do nothing in a whole lifetime but accommodate ourselves to +facts.... But I seem to be rambling off into philosophising again. An +old habit! In brief, I fell in love with a dancing-girl. + +This was the more curious as one could not even call her a beauty. It +is true she had marvellous hair of ashen gold colour, and great clear +eyes, with a dreamy, and at the same time daring, look in them.... +Could I fail to know the expression of those eyes? For a whole year I +was pining and swooning in the light--of them! She was splendidly +well-made, and when she danced her national dance the audience would +stamp and shout with delight.... But, I fancy, no one but I fell in +love with her,--at least, no one was in love with her as I was. From +the very minute when I saw her for the first time (would you believe +it, I have only to close my eyes, and at once the theatre is before me, +the almost empty stage, representing the heart of a forest, and she +running in from the wing on the right, with a wreath of vine on her +head and a tiger-skin over her shoulders)--from that fatal moment I +have belonged to her utterly, just as a dog belongs to its master; and +if, now that I am dying, I do not belong to her, it is only because she +has cast me off. + +To tell the truth, she never troubled herself particularly about me. +She scarcely noticed me, though she was very good-natured in making use +of my money. I was for her, as she expressed it in her broken French, +'oun Rousso, boun enfant,' and nothing more. But I ... I could not live +where she was not living; I tore myself away once for all from +everything dear to me, from my country even, and followed that woman. + +You will suppose, perhaps, that she had brains. Not in the least! One +had only to glance at her low brow, one needed only one glimpse of her +lazy, careless smile, to feel certain at once of the scantiness of her +intellectual endowments. And I never imagined her to be an exceptional +woman. In fact, I never for one instant deceived myself about her. But +that was of no avail to me. Whatever I thought of her in her absence, +in her presence I felt nothing but slavish adoration.... In German +fairy-tales, the knights often fall under such an enchantment. I could +not take my eyes off her features, I could never tire of listening to +her talk, of admiring all her gestures; I positively drew my breath as +she breathed. However, she was good-natured, unconstrained--too +unconstrained indeed,--did not give herself airs, as actresses +generally do. There was a lot of life in her--that is, a lot of blood, +that splendid southern blood, into which the sun of those parts must +have infused some of its beams. She slept nine hours out of the +twenty-four, enjoyed her dinner, never read a single line of print, +except, perhaps, the newspaper articles in which she was mentioned; and +almost the only tender feeling in her life was her devotion to il +Signore Carlino, a greedy little Italian, who waited on her in the +capacity of secretary, and whom, later on, she married. And such a +woman I could fall in love with--I, a man, versed in all sorts of +intellectual subtleties, and no longer young! ... Who could have +anticipated it? I, at least, never anticipated it. I never anticipated +the part I was to play. I never anticipated that I should come to +hanging about rehearsals, waiting, bored and frozen, behind the scenes, +breathing in the smut and grime of the theatre, making friends with all +sorts of utterly unpresentable persons.... Making friends, did I say?-- +cringing slavishly upon them. I never anticipated that I should carry a +ballet-dancer's shawl; buy her her new gloves, clean her old ones with +bread-crumbs (I did even that, alas!), carry home her bouquets, hang +about the offices of journalists and editors, waste my substance, give +serenades, catch colds, wear myself out.... I never expected in a +little German town to receive the jeering nickname 'der +Kunst-barbar.'... And all this for nothing, in the fullest sense of the +word, for nothing. That's just it. + +... Do you remember how we used, in talk and by letter, to reason +together about love and indulge in all sort of subtleties? But in +actual life it turns out that real love is a feeling utterly unlike +what we pictured to ourselves. Love, indeed, is not a feeling at all, +it's a malady, a certain condition of soul and body. It does not +develop gradually. One cannot doubt about it, one cannot outwit it, +though it does not always come in the same way. Usually it takes +possession of a person without question, suddenly, against his +will--for all the world like cholera or fever.... It clutches him, poor +dear, as the hawk pounces on the chicken, and bears him off at its +will, however he struggles or resists.... In love, there's no equality, +none of the so-called free union of souls, and such idealisms, +concocted at their leisure by German professors.... No, in love, one +person is slave, and the other master; and well may the poets talk of +the fetters put on by love. Yes, love is a fetter, and the heaviest to +bear. At least I have come to this conviction, and have come to it by +the path of experience; I have bought this conviction at the cost of my +life, since I am dying in my slavery. + +What a life mine has been, if you think of it! In my first youth +nothing would satisfy me but to take heaven by storm for myself.... +Then I fell to dreaming of the good of all humanity, of the good of my +country. Then that passed too. I was thinking of nothing but making a +home, family life for myself ... and so tripped over an ant-heap--and +plop, down into the grave.... Ah, we're great hands, we Russians, at +making such a finish! + +But it's time to turn away from all that, it's long been time! May this +burden be loosened from off my soul together with life! I want, for the +last time, if only for an instant, to enjoy the sweet and gentle +feeling which is shed like a soft light within me, directly I think of +you. Your image is now doubly precious to me.... With it, rises up +before me the image of my country, and I send to it and to you a +farewell greeting. Live, live long and happily, and remember one thing: +whether you remain in the wilds of the steppes--where you have +sometimes been so sorrowful, but where I should so like to spend my +last days--or whether you enter upon a different career, remember life +deceives all but him who does not reflect upon her, and, demanding +nothing of her, accepts serenely her few gifts and serenely makes the +most of them. Go forward while you can. But if your strength fails you, +sit by the wayside and watch those that pass by without anger or envy. +They, too, have not far to go. In old days, I did not tell you this, +but death will teach any one. Though who says what is life, what is +truth? Do you remember who it was made no reply to that question? ... +Farewell, Marya Alexandrovna, farewell for the last time, and do not +remember evil against poor ALEXEY. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Diary of a Superfluous Man and +Other Stories, by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 9615-8.txt or 9615-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/6/1/9615/ + +Produced by Keren Vergon, Lazar Liveanu and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +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 www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Diary of a Superfluous Man and Other Stories + +Author: Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev + +Posting Date: November 4, 2011 [EBook #9615] +Release Date: January, 2006 [EBook #9615] +[This file was first posted on October 10, 2003] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Keren Vergon, Lazar Liveanu and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + + + + +THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN + +AND OTHER STORIES + +by + +Ivan Turgenev + + + +_Translated from the Russian by Constance Garnett_ + + +1899 + + + +CONTENTS + + +THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN + +A TOUR IN THE FOREST + +YAKOV PASINKOV + +ANDREI KOLOSOV + +A CORRESPONDENCE + + + +THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN + + +VILLAGE OF SHEEP'S SPRINGS, _March_ 20, 18--. + +The doctor has just left me. At last I have got at something definite! +For all his cunning, he had to speak out at last. Yes, I am soon, very +soon, to die. The frozen rivers will break up, and with the last snow I +shall, most likely, swim away ... whither? God knows! To the ocean too. +Well, well, since one must die, one may as well die in the spring. But +isn't it absurd to begin a diary a fortnight, perhaps, before death? +What does it matter? And by how much are fourteen days less than +fourteen years, fourteen centuries? Beside eternity, they say, all is +nothingness--yes, but in that case eternity, too, is nothing. I see I +am letting myself drop into metaphysics; that's a bad sign--am I not +rather faint-hearted, perchance? I had better begin a description of +some sort. It's damp and windy out of doors. + +I'm forbidden to go out. What can I write about, then? No decent man +talks of his maladies; to write a novel is not in my line; reflections +on elevated topics are beyond me; descriptions of the life going on +around me could not even interest me; while I am weary of doing +nothing, and too lazy to read. Ah, I have it, I will write the story of +all my life for myself. A first-rate idea! Just before death it is a +suitable thing to do, and can be of no harm to any one. I will begin. + +I was born thirty years ago, the son of fairly well-to-do landowners. +My father had a passion for gambling; my mother was a woman of +character ... a very virtuous woman. Only, I have known no woman whose +moral excellence was less productive of happiness. She was crushed +beneath the weight of her own virtues, and was a source of misery to +every one, from herself upwards. In all the fifty years of her life, +she never once took rest, or sat with her hands in her lap; she was for +ever fussing and bustling about like an ant, and to absolutely no good +purpose, which cannot be said of the ant. The worm of restlessness +fretted her night and day. Only once I saw her perfectly tranquil, and +that was the day after her death, in her coffin. Looking at her, it +positively seemed to me that her face wore an expression of subdued +amazement; with the half-open lips, the sunken cheeks, and +meekly-staring eyes, it seemed expressing, all over, the words, 'How +good to be at rest!' Yes, it is good, good to be rid, at last, of the +wearing sense of life, of the persistent, restless consciousness of +existence! But that's neither here nor there. + +I was brought up badly and not happily. My father and mother both loved +me; but that made things no better for me. My father was not, even in +his own house, of the slightest authority or consequence, being a man +openly abandoned to a shameful and ruinous vice; he was conscious of +his degradation, and not having the strength of will to give up his +darling passion, he tried at least, by his invariably amiable and +humble demeanour and his unswerving submissiveness, to win the +condescending consideration of his exemplary wife. My mother certainly +did bear her trial with the superb and majestic long-suffering of +virtue, in which there is so much of egoistic pride. She never +reproached my father for anything, gave him her last penny, and paid +his debts without a word. He exalted her as a paragon to her face and +behind her back, but did not like to be at home, and caressed me by +stealth, as though he were afraid of contaminating me by his presence. +But at such times his distorted features were full of such kindness, +the nervous grin on his lips was replaced by such a touching smile, and +his brown eyes, encircled by fine wrinkles, shone with such love, that +I could not help pressing my cheek to his, which was wet and warm with +tears. I wiped away those tears with my handkerchief, and they flowed +again without effort, like water from a brimming glass. I fell to +crying, too, and he comforted me, stroking my back and kissing me all +over my face with his quivering lips. Even now, more than twenty years +after his death, when I think of my poor father, dumb sobs rise into my +throat, and my heart beats as hotly and bitterly and aches with as +poignant a pity as if it had long to go on beating, as if there were +anything to be sorry for! + +My mother's behaviour to me, on the contrary, was always the same, +kind, but cold. In children's books one often comes across such +mothers, sermonising and just. She loved me, but I did not love her. +Yes! I fought shy of my virtuous mother, and passionately loved my +vicious father. + +But enough for to-day. It's a beginning, and as for the end, whatever +it may be, I needn't trouble my head about it. That's for my illness to +see to. + + +_March_ 21. + +To-day it is marvellous weather. Warm, bright; the sunshine frolicking +gaily on the melting snow; everything shining, steaming, dripping; the +sparrows chattering like mad things about the drenched, dark hedges. + +Sweetly and terribly, too, the moist air frets my sick chest. Spring, +spring is coming! I sit at the window and look across the river into +the open country. O nature! nature! I love thee so, but I came forth +from thy womb good for nothing--not fit even for life. There goes a +cock-sparrow, hopping along with outspread wings; he chirrups, and +every note, every ruffled feather on his little body, is breathing with +health and strength.... + +What follows from that? Nothing. He is well and has a right to chirrup +and ruffle his wings; but I am ill and must die--that's all. It's not +worth while to say more about it. And tearful invocations to nature are +mortally absurd. Let us get back to my story. + +I was brought up, as I have said, very badly and not happily. I had no +brothers or sisters. I was educated at home. And, indeed, what would my +mother have had to occupy her, if I had been sent to a boarding-school +or a government college? That's what children are for--that their +parents may not be bored. We lived for the most part in the country, +and sometimes went to Moscow. I had tutors and teachers, as a matter of +course; one, in particular, has remained in my memory, a dried-up, +tearful German, Rickmann, an exceptionally mournful creature, cruelly +maltreated by destiny, and fruitlessly consumed by an intense pining +for his far-off fatherland. Sometimes, near the stove, in the fearful +stuffiness of the close ante-room, full of the sour smell of stale +kvas, my unshaved man-nurse, Vassily, nicknamed Goose, would sit, +playing cards with the coachman, Potap, in a new sheepskin, white as +foam, and superb tarred boots, while in the next room Rickmann would +sing, behind the partition-- + + Herz, mein Herz, warum so traurig? + Was bekuemmert dich so sehr? + 'Sist ja schoen im fremden Lande-- + Herz, mein Herz--was willst du mehr?' + +After my father's death we moved to Moscow for good. I was twelve years +old. My father died in the night from a stroke. I shall never forget +that night. I was sleeping soundly, as children generally do; but I +remember, even in my sleep, I was aware of a heavy gasping noise at +regular intervals. Suddenly I felt some one taking hold of my shoulder +and poking me. I opened my eyes and saw my nurse. 'What is it?' 'Come +along, come along, Alexey Mihalitch is dying.' ... I was out of bed and +away like a mad thing into his bedroom. I looked: my father was lying +with his head thrown back, all red, and gasping fearfully. The servants +were crowding round the door with terrified faces; in the hall some one +was asking in a thick voice: 'Have they sent for the doctor?' In the +yard outside, a horse was being led from the stable, the gates were +creaking, a tallow candle was burning in the room on the floor, my +mother was there, terribly upset, but not oblivious of the proprieties, +nor of her own dignity. I flung myself on my father's bosom, and hugged +him, faltering: 'Papa, papa...' He lay motionless, screwing up his eyes +in a strange way. I looked into his face--an unendurable horror caught +my breath; I shrieked with terror, like a roughly captured bird--they +picked me up and carried me away. Only the day before, as though aware +his death was at hand, he had caressed me so passionately and +despondently. + +A sleepy, unkempt doctor, smelling strongly of spirits, was brought. My +father died under his lancet, and the next day, utterly stupefied by +grief, I stood with a candle in my hands before a table, on which lay +the dead man, and listened senselessly to the bass sing-song of the +deacon, interrupted from time to time by the weak voice of the priest. +The tears kept streaming over my cheeks, my lips, my collar, my +shirt-front. I was dissolved in tears; I watched persistently, I +watched intently, my father's rigid face, as though I expected +something of him; while my mother slowly bowed down to the ground, +slowly rose again, and pressed her fingers firmly to her forehead, her +shoulders, and her chest, as she crossed herself. I had not a single +idea in my head; I was utterly numb, but I felt something terrible was +happening to me.... Death looked me in the face that day and took note +of me. + +We moved to Moscow after my father's death for a very simple cause: all +our estate was sold up by auction for debts--that is, absolutely all, +except one little village, the one in which I am at this moment living +out my magnificent existence. I must admit that, in spite of my youth +at the time, I grieved over the sale of our home, or rather, in +reality, I grieved over our garden. Almost my only bright memories are +associated with our garden. It was there that one mild spring evening I +buried my best friend, an old bob-tailed, crook-pawed dog, Trix. It was +there that, hidden in the long grass, I used to eat stolen +apples--sweet, red, Novgorod apples they were. There, too, I saw for +the first time, among the ripe raspberry bushes, the housemaid Klavdia, +who, in spite of her turned-up nose and habit of giggling in her +kerchief, aroused such a tender passion in me that I could hardly +breathe, and stood faint and tongue-tied in her presence; and once at +Easter, when it came to her turn to kiss my seignorial hand, I almost +flung myself at her feet to kiss her down-trodden goat-skin slippers. +My God! Can all that be twenty years ago? It seems not long ago that I +used to ride on my shaggy chestnut pony along the old fence of our +garden, and, standing up in the stirrups, used to pick the two-coloured +poplar leaves. While a man is living he is not conscious of his own +life; it becomes audible to him, like a sound, after the lapse of time. + +Oh, my garden, oh, the tangled paths by the tiny pond! Oh, the little +sandy spot below the tumbledown dike, where I used to catch gudgeons! +And you tall birch-trees, with long hanging branches, from beyond which +came floating a peasant's mournful song, broken by the uneven jolting +of the cart, I send you my last farewell!... On parting with life, to +you alone I stretch out my hands. Would I might once more inhale the +fresh, bitter fragrance of the wormwood, the sweet scent of the mown +buckwheat in the fields of my native place! Would I might once more +hear far away the modest tinkle of the cracked bell of our parish +church; once more lie in the cool shade under the oak sapling on the +slope of the familiar ravine; once more watch the moving track of the +wind, flitting, a dark wave over the golden grass of our meadow!... Ah, +what's the good of all this? But I can't go on to-day. Enough till +to-morrow. + + +_March_ 22. + +To-day it's cold and overcast again. Such weather is a great deal more +suitable. It's more in harmony with my task. Yesterday, quite +inappropriately, stirred up a multitude of useless emotions and +memories within me. This shall not occur again. Sentimental out-breaks +are like liquorice; when first you suck it, it's not bad, but +afterwards it leaves a very nasty taste in the mouth. I will set to +work simply and serenely to tell the story of my life. And so, we moved +to Moscow.... + +But it occurs to me, is it really worth while to tell the story of my +life? + +No, it certainly is not.... My life has not been different in any +respect from the lives of numbers of other people. The parental home, +the university, the government service in the lower grades, retirement, +a little circle of friends, decent poverty, modest pleasures, +unambitious pursuits, moderate desires--kindly tell me, is that new to +any one? And so I will not tell the story of my life, especially as I +am writing for my own pleasure; and if my past does not afford even me +any sensation of great pleasure or great pain, it must be that there is +nothing in it deserving of attention. I had better try to describe my +own character to myself. What manner of man am I?... It may be observed +that no one asks me that question--admitted. But there, I'm dying, by +Jove!--I'm dying, and at the point of death I really think one may be +excused a desire to find out what sort of a queer fish one really was +after all. + +Thinking over this important question, and having, moreover, no need +whatever to be too bitter in my expressions in regard to myself, as +people are apt to be who have a strong conviction of their valuable +qualities, I must admit one thing. I was a man, or perhaps I should say +a fish, utterly superfluous in this world. And that I propose to show +to-morrow, as I keep coughing to-day like an old sheep, and my nurse, +Terentyevna, gives me no peace: 'Lie down, my good sir,' she says, 'and +drink a little tea.'... I know why she keeps on at me: she wants some +tea herself. Well! she's welcome! Why not let the poor old woman +extract the utmost benefit she can from her master at the last ... as +long as there is still the chance? + + +_March_ 23. + +Winter again. The snow is falling in flakes. Superfluous, +superfluous.... That's a capital word I have hit on. The more deeply I +probe into myself, the more intently I review all my past life, the +more I am convinced of the strict truth of this expression. +Superfluous--that's just it. To other people that term is not +applicable.... People are bad, or good, clever, stupid, pleasant, and +disagreeable; but superfluous ... no. Understand me, though: the +universe could get on without those people too... no doubt; but +uselessness is not their prime characteristic, their most distinctive +attribute, and when you speak of them, the word 'superfluous' is not +the first to rise to your lips. But I ... there's nothing else one can +say about me; I'm superfluous and nothing more. A supernumerary, and +that's all. Nature, apparently, did not reckon on my appearance, and +consequently treated me as an unexpected and uninvited guest. A +facetious gentleman, a great devotee of preference, said very happily +about me that I was the forfeit my mother had paid at the game of life. +I am speaking about myself calmly now, without any bitterness.... It's +all over and done with! Throughout my whole life I was constantly +finding my place taken, perhaps because I did not look for my place +where I should have done. I was apprehensive, reserved, and irritable, +like all sickly people. Moreover, probably owing to excessive +self-consciousness, perhaps as the result of the generally unfortunate +cast of my personality, there existed between my thoughts and feelings, +and the expression of those feelings and thoughts, a sort of +inexplicable, irrational, and utterly insuperable barrier; and whenever +I made up my mind to overcome this obstacle by force, to break down +this barrier, my gestures, the expression of my face, my whole being, +took on an appearance of painful constraint. I not only seemed, I +positively became unnatural and affected. I was conscious of this +myself, and hastened to shrink back into myself. Then a terrible +commotion was set up within me. I analysed myself to the last thread, +compared myself with others, recalled the slightest glances, smiles, +words of the people to whom I had tried to open myself out, put the +worst construction on everything, laughed vindictively at my own +pretensions to 'be like every one else,'--and suddenly, in the midst of +my laughter, collapsed utterly into gloom, sank into absurd dejection, +and then began again as before--went round and round, in fact, like a +squirrel on its wheel. Whole days were spent in this harassing, +fruitless exercise. Well now, tell me, if you please, to whom and for +what is such a man of use? Why did this happen to me? what was the +reason of this trivial fretting at myself?--who knows? who can tell? + +I remember I was driving once from Moscow in the diligence. It was a +good road, but the driver, though he had four horses harnessed abreast, +hitched on another, alongside of them. Such an unfortunate, utterly +useless, fifth horse--fastened somehow on to the front of the shaft by +a short stout cord, which mercilessly cuts his shoulder, forces him to +go with the most unnatural action, and gives his whole body the shape +of a comma--always arouses my deepest pity. I remarked to the driver +that I thought we might on this occasion have got on without the fifth +horse.... He was silent a moment, shook his head, lashed the horse a +dozen times across his thin back and under his distended belly, and +with a grin responded: 'Ay, to be sure; why do we drag him along with +us? What the devil's he for?' And here am I too dragged along. But, +thank goodness, the station is not far off. + +Superfluous.... I promised to show the justice of my opinion, and I +will carry out my promise. I don't think it necessary to mention the +thousand trifles, everyday incidents and events, which would, however, +in the eyes of any thinking man, serve as irrefutable evidence in my +support--I mean, in support of my contention. I had better begin +straight away with one rather important incident, after which probably +there will be no doubt left of the accuracy of the term superfluous. I +repeat: I do not intend to indulge in minute details, but I cannot pass +over in silence one rather serious and significant fact, that is, the +strange behaviour of my friends (I too used to have friends) whenever I +met them, or even called on them. They used to seem ill at ease; as +they came to meet me, they would give a not quite natural smile, look, +not into my eyes nor at my feet, as some people do, but rather at my +cheeks, articulate hurriedly, 'Ah! how are you, Tchulkaturin!' (such is +the surname fate has burdened me with) or 'Ah! here's Tchulkaturin!' +turn away at once and positively remain stockstill for a little while +after, as though trying to recollect something. I used to notice all +this, as I am not devoid of penetration and the faculty of observation; +on the whole I am not a fool; I sometimes even have ideas come into my +head that are amusing, not absolutely commonplace. But as I am a +superfluous man with a padlock on my inner self, it is very painful for +me to express my idea, the more so as I know beforehand that I shall +express it badly. It positively sometimes strikes me as extraordinary +the way people manage to talk, and so simply and freely.... It's +marvellous, really, when you think of it. Though, to tell the truth, I +too, in spite of my padlock, sometimes have an itch to talk. But I did +actually utter words only in my youth; in riper years I almost always +pulled myself up. I would murmur to myself: 'Come, we'd better hold our +tongue.' And I was still. We are all good hands at being silent; our +women especially are great in that line. Many an exalted Russian young +lady keeps silent so strenuously that the spectacle is calculated to +produce a faint shudder and cold sweat even in any one prepared to face +it. But that's not the point, and it's not for me to criticise others. +I proceed to my promised narrative. + +A few years back, owing to a combination of circumstances, very +insignificant in themselves, but very important for me, it was my lot +to spend six months in the district town O----. This town is all built +on a slope, and very uncomfortably built, too. There are reckoned to be +about eight hundred inhabitants in it, of exceptional poverty; the +houses are hardly worthy of the name; in the chief street, by way of an +apology for a pavement, there are here and there some huge white slabs +of rough-hewn limestone, in consequence of which even carts drive round +it instead of through it. In the very middle of an astoundingly dirty +square rises a diminutive yellowish edifice with black holes in it, and +in these holes sit men in big caps making a pretence of buying and +selling. In this place there is an extraordinarily high striped post +sticking up into the air, and near the post, in the interests of public +order, by command of the authorities, there is kept a cartload of +yellow hay, and one government hen struts to and fro. In short, +existence in the town of O---- is truly delightful. During the first +days of my stay in this town, I almost went out of my mind with +boredom. I ought to say of myself that, though I am, no doubt, a +superfluous man, I am not so of my own seeking; I'm morbid myself, but +I can't bear anything morbid.... I'm not even averse to happiness-- +indeed, I've tried to approach it right and left.... And so it is no +wonder that I too can be bored like any other mortal. I was staying in +the town of O---- on official business. + +Terentyevna has certainly sworn to make an end of me. Here's a specimen +of our conversation:-- + +TERENTYEVNA. Oh--oh, my good sir! what are you for ever writing for? +it's bad for you, keeping all on writing. + +I. But I'm dull, Terentyevna. + +SHE. Oh, you take a cup of tea now and lie down. By God's mercy you'll +get in a sweat and maybe doze a bit. + +I. But I'm not sleepy. + +SHE. Ah, sir! why do you talk so? Lord have mercy on you! Come, lie +down, lie down; it's better for you. + +I. I shall die any way, Terentyevna! + +SHE. Lord bless us and save us!... Well, do you want a little tea? + +I. I shan't live through the week, Terentyevna! + +SHE. Eh, eh! good sir, why do you talk so?... Well, I'll go and heat +the samovar. + +Oh, decrepit, yellow, toothless creature! Am I really, even in your +eyes, not a man? + + +_March 24. Sharp frost_. + +On the very day of my arrival in the town of O----, the official +business, above referred to, brought me into contact with a certain +Kirilla Matveitch Ozhogin, one of the chief functionaries of the +district; but I became intimate, or, as it is called, 'friends' with +him a fortnight later. His house was in the principal street, and was +distinguished from all the others by its size, its painted roof, and +the lions on its gates, lions of that species extraordinarily +resembling unsuccessful dogs, whose natural home is Moscow. From those +lions alone, one might safely conclude that Ozhogin was a man of +property. And so it was; he was the owner of four hundred peasants; he +entertained in his house all the best society of the town of O----, and +had a reputation for hospitality. At his door was seen the mayor with +his wide chestnut-coloured droshky and pair--an exceptionally bulky +man, who seemed as though cut out of material that had been laid by for +a long time. The other officials, too, used to drive to his receptions: +the attorney, a yellowish, spiteful creature; the land surveyor, a +wit--of German extraction, with a Tartar face; the inspector of means +of communication--a soft soul, who sang songs, but a scandalmonger; a +former marshal of the district--a gentleman with dyed hair, crumpled +shirt front, and tight trousers, and that lofty expression of face so +characteristic of men who have stood on trial. There used to come also +two landowners, inseparable friends, both no longer young and indeed a +little the worse for wear, of whom the younger was continually crushing +the elder and putting him to silence with one and the same reproach. +'Don't you talk, Sergei Sergeitch! What have you to say? Why, you spell +the word cork with two _k_'s in it.... Yes, gentlemen,' he would go on, +with all the fire of conviction, turning to the bystanders, 'Sergei +Sergeitch spells it not cork, but kork.' And every one present would +laugh, though probably not one of them was conspicuous for special +accuracy in orthography, while the luckless Sergei Sergeitch held his +tongue, and with a faint smile bowed his head. But I am forgetting that +my hours are numbered, and am letting myself go into too minute +descriptions. And so, without further beating about the bush,--Ozhogin +was married, he had a daughter, Elizaveta Kirillovna, and I fell in +love with this daughter. + +Ozhogin himself was a commonplace person, neither good-looking nor +bad-looking; his wife resembled an aged chicken; but their daughter had +not taken after her parents. She was very pretty and of a bright and +gentle disposition. Her clear grey eyes looked out kindly and directly +from under childishly arched brows; she was almost always smiling, and +she laughed too, pretty often. Her fresh voice had a very pleasant +ring; she moved freely, rapidly, and blushed gaily. She did not dress +very stylishly, only plain dresses suited her. I did not make friends +quickly as a rule, and if I were at ease with any one from the +first--which, however, scarcely ever occurred--it said, I must own, a +great deal for my new acquaintance. I did not know at all how to behave +with women, and in their presence I either scowled and put on a morose +air, or grinned in the most idiotic way, and in my embarrassment turned +my tongue round and round in my mouth. With Elizaveta Kirillovna, on +the contrary, I felt at home from the first moment. It happened in this +way. + +I called one day at Ozhogin's before dinner, asked, 'At home?' was +told, 'The master's at home, dressing; please to walk into the +drawing-room.' I went into the drawing-room; I beheld standing at the +window, with her back to me, a girl in a white gown, with a cage in her +hands. I was, as my way was, somewhat taken aback; however, I showed no +sign of it, but merely coughed, for good manners. The girl turned round +quickly, so quickly that her curls gave her a slap in the face, saw me, +bowed, and with a smile showed me a little box half full of seeds. 'You +don't mind?' I, of course, as is the usual practice in such cases, +first bowed my head, and at the same time rapidly crooked my knees, and +straightened them out again (as though some one had given me a blow +from behind in the legs, a sure sign of good breeding and pleasant, +easy manners), and then smiled, raised my hand, and softly and +carefully brandished it twice in the air. The girl at once turned away +from me, took a little piece of board out of the cage, began vigorously +scraping it with a knife, and suddenly, without changing her attitude, +uttered the following words: 'This is papa's parrot.... Are you fond of +parrots?' 'I prefer siskins,' I answered, not without some effort. 'I +like siskins, too; but look at him, isn't he pretty? Look, he's not +afraid.' (What surprised me was that I was not afraid.) 'Come closer. +His name's Popka.' I went up, and bent down. 'Isn't he really sweet?' +She turned her face to me; but we were standing so close together, that +she had to throw her head back to get a look at me with her clear eyes. +I gazed at her; her rosy young face was smiling all over in such a +friendly way that I smiled too, and almost laughed aloud with delight. +The door opened; Mr. Ozhogin came in. I promptly went up to him, and +began talking to him very unconstrainedly. I don't know how it was, but +I stayed to dinner, and spent the whole evening with them; and next day +the Ozhogins' footman, an elongated, dull-eyed person, smiled upon me +as a friend of the family when he helped me off with my overcoat. + +To find a haven of refuge, to build oneself even a temporary nest, to +feel the comfort of daily intercourse and habits, was a happiness I, a +superfluous man, with no family associations, had never before +experienced. If anything about me had had any resemblance to a flower, +and if the comparison were not so hackneyed, I would venture to say +that my soul blossomed from that day. Everything within me and about me +was suddenly transformed! My whole life was lighted up by love, the +whole of it, down to the paltriest details, like a dark, deserted room +when a light has been brought into it. I went to bed, and got up, +dressed, ate my breakfast, and smoked my pipe--differently from before. +I positively skipped along as I walked, as though wings were suddenly +sprouting from my shoulders. I was not for an instant, I remember, in +uncertainty with regard to the feeling Elizaveta Kirillovna inspired in +me. I fell passionately in love with her from the first day, and from +the first day I knew I was in love. During the course of three weeks I +saw her every day. Those three weeks were the happiest time in my life; +but the recollection of them is painful to me. I can't think of them +alone; I cannot help dwelling on what followed after them, and the +intensest bitterness slowly takes possession of my softened heart. + +When a man is very happy, his brain, as is well known, is not very +active. A calm and delicious sensation, the sensation of satisfaction, +pervades his whole being; he is swallowed up by it; the consciousness +of personal life vanishes in him--he is in beatitude, as badly educated +poets say. But when, at last, this 'enchantment' is over, a man is +sometimes vexed and sorry that, in the midst of his bliss, he observed +himself so little; that he did not, by reflection, by recollection, +redouble and prolong his feelings ... as though the 'beatific' man had +time, and it were worth his while to reflect on his sensations! The +happy man is what the fly is in the sunshine. And so it is that, when I +recall those three weeks, it is almost impossible for me to retain in +my mind any exact and definite impression, all the more so as during +that time nothing very remarkable took place between us.... Those +twenty days are present to my imagination as something warm, and young, +and fragrant, a sort of streak of light in my dingy, greyish life. My +memory becomes all at once remorselessly clear and trustworthy, only +from the instant when, to use the phrase of badly-educated writers, the +blows of destiny began to fall upon me. + +Yes, those three weeks.... Not but what they have left some images in +my mind. Sometimes when it happens to me to brood a long while on that +time, some memories suddenly float up out of the darkness of the +past--like stars which suddenly come out against the evening sky to +meet the eyes straining to catch sight of them. One country walk in a +wood has remained particularly distinct in my memory. There were four +of us, old Madame Ozhogin, Liza, I, and a certain Bizmyonkov, a petty +official of the town of O----, a light-haired, good-natured, and +harmless person. I shall have more to say of him later. Mr. Ozhogin had +stayed at home; he had a headache, from sleeping too long. The day was +exquisite; warm and soft. I must observe that pleasure-gardens and +picnic-parties are not to the taste of the average Russian. In district +towns, in the so-called public gardens, you never meet a living soul at +any time of the year; at the most, some old woman sits sighing and +moaning on a green garden seat, broiling in the sun, not far from a +sickly tree--and that, only if there is no greasy little bench in the +gateway near. But if there happens to be a scraggy birchwood in the +neighbourhood of the town, tradespeople and even officials gladly make +excursions thither on Sundays and holidays, with samovars, pies, and +melons; set all this abundance on the dusty grass, close by the road, +sit round, and eat and drink tea in the sweat of their brows till +evening. Just such a wood there was at that time a mile and a half from +the town of O---. We repaired there after dinner, duly drank our fill +of tea, and then all four began to wander about the wood. Bizmyonkov +walked with Madame Ozhogin on his arm, I with Liza on mine. The day was +already drawing to evening. I was at that time in the very fire of +first love (not more than a fortnight had passed since our first +meeting), in that condition of passionate and concentrated adoration, +when your whole soul innocently and unconsciously follows every +movement of the beloved being, when you can never have enough of her +presence, listen enough to her voice, when you smile with the look of a +child convalescent after sickness, and a man of the smallest experience +cannot fail at the first glance to recognise a hundred yards off what +is the matter with you. Till that day I had never happened to have Liza +on my arm. We walked side by side, stepping slowly over the green +grass. A light breeze, as it were, flitted about us between the white +stems of the birches, every now and then flapping the ribbon of her hat +into my face. I incessantly followed her eyes, until at last she turned +gaily to me and we both smiled at each other. The birds were chirping +approvingly above us, the blue sky peeped caressingly at us through the +delicate foliage. My head was going round with excess of bliss. I +hasten to remark, Liza was not a bit in love with me. She liked me; she +was never shy with any one, but it was not reserved for me to trouble +her childlike peace of mind. She walked arm in arm with me, as she +would with a brother. She was seventeen then.... And meanwhile, that +very evening, before my eyes, there began that soft inward ferment +which precedes the metamorphosis of the child into the woman.... I was +witness of that transformation of the whole being, that guileless +bewilderment, that agitated dreaminess; I was the first to detect the +sudden softness of the glance, the sudden ring in the voice--and oh, +fool! oh, superfluous man! For a whole week I had the face to imagine +that I, I was the cause of this transformation! + +This was how it happened. + +We walked rather a long while, till evening, and talked little. I was +silent, like all inexperienced lovers, and she, probably, had nothing +to say to me. But she seemed to be pondering over something, and shook +her head in a peculiar way, as she pensively nibbled a leaf she had +picked. Sometimes she started walking ahead, so resolutely...then all +at once stopped, waited for me, and looked round with lifted eyebrows +and a vague smile. On the previous evening we had read together. _The +Prisoner of the Caucasus_. With what eagerness she had listened to me, +her face propped in both hands, and her bosom pressed against the +table! I began to speak of our yesterday's reading; she flushed, asked +me whether I had given the parrot any hemp-seed before starting, began +humming some little song aloud, and all at once was silent again. The +copse ended on one side in a rather high and abrupt precipice; below +coursed a winding stream, and beyond it, over an immense expanse, +stretched the boundless prairies, rising like waves, spreading wide +like a table-cloth, and broken here and there by ravines. Liza and I +were the first to come out at the edge of the wood; Bizmyonkov and the +elder lady were behind. We came out, stood still, and involuntarily we +both half shut our eyes; directly facing us, across a lurid mist, the +vast, purple sun was setting. Half the sky was flushed and glowing; red +rays fell slanting on the meadows, casting a crimson reflection even on +the side of the ravines in shadow, lying in gleams of fire on the +stream, where it was not hidden under the overhanging bushes, and, as +it were, leaning on the bosom of the precipice and the copse. We stood, +bathed in the blazing brilliance. I am not capable of describing all +the impassioned solemnity of this scene. They say that by a blind man +the colour red is imagined as the sound of a trumpet. I don't know how +far this comparison is correct, but really there was something of a +challenge in this glowing gold of the evening air, in the crimson flush +on sky and earth. I uttered a cry of rapture and at once turned to +Liza. She was looking straight at the sun. I remember the sunset glow +was reflected in little points of fire in her eyes. She was +overwhelmed, deeply moved. She made no response to my exclamation; for +a long while she stood, not stirring, with drooping head.... I held out +my hand to her; she turned away from me, and suddenly burst into tears. +I looked at her with secret, almost delighted amazement.... The voice +of Bizmyonkov was heard a couple of yards off. Liza quickly wiped her +tears and looked with a faltering smile at me. The elder lady came out +of the copse leaning on the arm of her flaxen-headed escort; they, in +their turn, admired the view. The old lady addressed some question to +Liza, and I could not help shuddering, I remember, when her daughter's +broken voice, like cracked glass, sounded in reply. Meanwhile the sun +had set, and the afterglow began to fade. We turned back. Again I took +Liza's arm in mine. It was still light in the wood, and I could clearly +distinguish her features. She was confused, and did not raise her eyes. +The flush that overspread her face did not vanish; it was as though she +were still standing in the rays of the setting sun.... Her hand +scarcely touched my arm. For a long while I could not frame a sentence; +my heart was beating so violently. Through the trees there was a +glimpse of the carriage in the distance; the coachman was coming at a +walking pace to meet us over the soft sand of the road. + +'Lizaveta Kirillovna,' I brought out at last, 'what did you cry for?' + +'I don't know,' she answered, after a short silence. She looked at me +with her soft eyes still wet with tears--her look struck me as changed, +and she was silent again. + +'You are very fond, I see, of nature,' I pursued. That was not at all +what I meant to say, and the last words my tongue scarcely faltered out +to the end. She shook her head. I could not utter another word.... I +was waiting for something ... not an avowal--how was that possible? I +waited for a confiding glance, a question.... But Liza looked at the +ground, and kept silent. I repeated once more in a whisper: 'Why was +it?' and received no reply. She had grown, I saw that, ill at ease, +almost ashamed. + +A quarter of an hour later we were sitting in the carriage driving to +the town. The horses flew along at an even trot; we were rapidly whirled +along through the darkening, damp air. I suddenly began talking, more +than once addressing first Bizmyonkov, and then Madame Ozhogin. I did +not look at Liza, but I could see that from her corner in the carriage +her eyes did not once rest on me. At home she roused herself, but would +not read with me, and soon went off to bed. A turning-point, that +turning-point I have spoken of, had been reached by her. She had ceased +to be a little girl, she too had begun ... like me ... to wait for +something. She had not long to wait. + +But that night I went home to my lodgings in a state of perfect +ecstasy. The vague half presentiment, half suspicion, which had been +arising within me, had vanished. The sudden constraint in Liza's manner +towards me I ascribed to maidenly bashfulness, timidity.... Hadn't I +read a thousand times over in many books that the first appearance of +love always agitates and alarms a young girl? I felt supremely happy, +and was already making all sorts of plans in my head. + +If some one had whispered in my ear then: 'You're raving, my dear chap! +that's not a bit what's in store for you. What's in store for you is to +die all alone, in a wretched little cottage, amid the insufferable +grumbling of an old hag who will await your death with impatience to +sell your boots for a few coppers...'! + +Yes, one can't help saying with the Russian philosopher--'How's one to +know what one doesn't know?' + +Enough for to-day. + + +_March 25. A white winter day._ + +I have read over what I wrote yesterday, and was all but tearing up the +whole manuscript. I think my story's too spun out and too sentimental. +However, as the rest of my recollections of that time presents nothing +of a pleasurable character, except that peculiar sort of consolation +which Lermontov had in view when he said there is pleasure and pain in +irritating the sores of old wounds, why not indulge oneself? But one +must know where to draw the line. And so I will continue without any +sort of sentimentality. + +During the whole of the week after the country excursion, my position +was in reality in no way improved, though the change in Liza became +more noticeable every day. I interpreted this change, as I have said +before, in the most favourable way for me.... The misfortune of +solitary and timid people--who are timid from self-consciousness--is +just that, though they have eyes and indeed open them wide, they see +nothing, or see everything in a false light, as though through coloured +spectacles. Their own ideas and speculations trip them up at every +step. At the commencement of our acquaintance, Liza behaved confidingly +and freely with me, like a child; perhaps there may even have been in +her attitude to me something more than mere childish liking.... But +after this strange, almost instantaneous change had taken place in her, +after a period of brief perplexity, she felt constrained in my +presence; she unconsciously turned away from me, and was at the same +time melancholy and dreamy.... She was waiting ... for what? She did +not know ... while I ... I, as I have said above, was delighted at this +change.... Yes, by God, I was ready to expire, as they say, with +rapture. Though I am prepared to allow that any one else in my place +might have been deceived.... Who is free from vanity? I need not say +that all this was only clear to me in the course of time, when I had to +lower my clipped and at no time over-powerful wings. + +The misunderstanding that had arisen between Liza and me lasted a whole +week--and there is nothing surprising in that: it has been my lot to be +a witness of misunderstandings that have lasted for years and years. +Who was it said, by the way, that truth alone is powerful? Falsehood is +just as living as truth, if not more so. To be sure, I recollect that +even during that week I felt from time to time an uneasy gnawing astir +within me ... but solitary people like me, I say again, are as +incapable of understanding what is going on within them as what is +taking place before their eyes. And, besides, is love a natural +feeling? Is it natural for man to love? Love is a sickness; and for +sickness there is no law. Granting that there was at times an +unpleasant pang in my heart; well, everything inside me was turned +upside down. And how is one to know in such circumstances, what is all +right and what is all wrong? and what is the cause, and what the +significance, of each separate symptom? But, be that as it may, all +these misconceptions, presentiments, and hopes were shattered in the +following manner. + +One day--it was in the morning about twelve o'clock--I had hardly +entered Mr. Ozhogin's hall, when I heard an unfamiliar, mellow voice in +the drawing-room, the door opened, and a tall and slim man of +five-and-twenty appeared in the doorway, escorted by the master of the +house. He rapidly put on a military overcoat which lay on the slab, and +took cordial leave of Kirilla Matveitch. As he brushed past me, he +carelessly touched his foraging cap, and vanished with a clink of his +spurs. + +'Who is that?' I asked Ozhogin. + +'Prince N., 'the latter responded, with a preoccupied face; 'sent from +Petersburg to collect recruits. But where are the servants?' he went on +in a tone of annoyance; 'no one handed him his coat.' + +We went into the drawing-room. + +'Has he been here long?' I inquired. + +'Arrived yesterday evening, I'm told. I offered him a room here, but he +refused. He seems a very nice fellow, though.' + +'Has he been long with you?' + +'About an hour. He asked me to introduce him to Olimpiada Nikitishna.' + +'And did you introduce him?' + +'Of course.' + +'And Lizaveta Kirillovna, too, did he ...' + +'He made her acquaintance, too, of course.' + +I was silent for a space. + +'Has he come here for long, do you know?' + +'Yes, I believe he has to be here for a fortnight.' + +And Kirilla Matveitch hurried away to dress. I walked several times up +and down the drawing-room. I don't recollect that Prince N.'s arrival +made any special impression on me at the time, except that feeling of +hostility which usually possesses us on the appearance of any new +person in our domestic circle. Possibly there was mingled with this +feeling something too of the nature of envy--of a shy and obscure +person from Moscow towards a brilliant officer from Petersburg. 'The +prince,' I mused, 'is an upstart from the capital; he'll look down upon +us....' I had not seen him for more than an instant, but I had had time +to perceive that he was good-looking, clever, and at his ease. After +pacing the room for some time, I stopped at last before a +looking-glass, pulled a comb out of my pocket, gave a picturesque +carelessness to my hair, and, as sometimes happens, became suddenly +absorbed in the contemplation of my own face. I remember my attention +centred anxiously about my nose; the soft and undefined outlines of +that feature afforded me no great satisfaction, when suddenly in the +dark depths of the sloping mirror, which reflected almost the whole +room, the door opened, and the slender figure of Liza appeared. I don't +know why I did not stir, and kept the same expression on my face. Liza +craned her head forward, looked intently at me, and raising her +eyebrows, biting her lips, and holding her breath as any one does who +is glad at not being noticed, she cautiously drew back and stealthily +drew the door to after her. The door creaked slightly. Liza started and +stood rooted to the spot... I still kept from stirring ... she pulled +the handle again and vanished. There was no possibility of doubt: the +expression of Liza's face at the sight of my figure, that expression in +which nothing could be detected except a desire to get away again +successfully, to escape a disagreeable interview, the quick flash of +delight I had time to catch in her eyes when she fancied she really had +managed to creep away unnoticed--it all spoke too clearly; that girl +did not love me. For a long, long while I could not take my eyes off +that motionless, dumb door, which was once more a patch of white in the +looking-glass. I tried to smile at my own long face--dropped my head, +went home again, and flung myself on the sofa. I felt extraordinarily +heavy at heart, so much so that I could not cry ... and, besides, what +was there to cry about...? 'Is it possible?' I repeated incessantly, +lying, as though I were murdered, on my back with my hands folded on my +breast--'is it possible?'...Don't you think that's rather good, that +'is it possible?' + + +_March 26. Thaw._ + +When, next day, after long hesitation and with a low sinking at my +heart, I went into the Ozhogins' familiar drawing-room, I was no longer +the same man as they had known during the last three weeks. All my old +peculiarities, which I had begun to get over, under the influence of a +new feeling, reappeared and took possession of me, like proprietors +returning to their house. People of my sort are usually guided, not so +much by positive facts, as by their own impressions: I, who no longer +ago than the day before had been dreaming of the 'raptures of love +returned,' was that day no less convinced of my 'unhappiness,' and was +absolutely despairing, though I was not myself able to find any +rational ground for my despair. I could not as yet be jealous of Prince +N., and whatever his qualities might be, his mere arrival was not +sufficient to extinguish Liza's good-will towards me at once.... But +stay, was there any good-will on her part? I recalled the past. 'What +of the walk in the wood?' I asked myself. 'What of the expression of +her face in the glass?' 'But,' I went on, 'the walk in the wood, I +think ... Fie on me! my God, what a wretched creature I am!' I said at +last, out loud. Of such sort were the unphrased, incomplete thoughts +that went round and round a thousand times over in a monotonous whirl +in my head. I repeat, I went back to the Ozhogins' the same +hypersensitive, suspicious, constrained creature I had been from my +childhood up.... + +I found the whole family in the drawing-room; Bizmyonkov was sitting +there, too, in a corner. Every one seemed in high good-humour; Ozhogin, +in particular, positively beamed, and his first word was to tell me +that Prince N. had spent the whole of the previous evening with them. +Liza gave me a tranquil greeting. 'Oh,' said I to myself; 'now I +understand why you're in such spirits.' I must own the prince's second +visit puzzled me. I had not anticipated it. As a rule fellows like me +anticipate everything in the world, except what is bound to occur in +the natural order of things; I sulked and put on the air of an injured +but magnanimous person; I tried to punish Liza by showing my +displeasure, from which one must conclude I was not yet completely +desperate after all. They do say that in some cases when one is really +loved, it's positively of use to torment the adored one; but in my +position it was indescribably stupid. Liza, in the most innocent way, +paid no attention to me. No one but Madame Ozhogin observed my solemn +taciturnity, and she inquired anxiously after my health. I replied, of +course, with a bitter smile, that I was thankful to say I was perfectly +well. Ozhogin continued to expatiate on the subject of their visitor; +but noticing that I responded reluctantly, he addressed himself +principally to Bizmyonkov, who was listening to him with great +attention, when a servant suddenly came in, announcing the arrival of +Prince N. Our host jumped up and ran to meet him; Liza, upon whom I at +once turned an eagle eye, flushed with delight, and made as though she +would move from her seat. The prince came in, all agreeable perfume, +gaiety, cordiality.... + +As I am not composing a romance for a gentle reader, but simply writing +for my own amusement, it stands to reason I need not make use of the +usual dodges of our respected authors. I will say straight out without +further delay that Liza fell passionately in love with the prince from +the first day she saw him, and the prince fell in love with her +too--partly from having nothing to do, and partly from a propensity for +turning women's heads, and also owing to the fact that Liza really was +a very charming creature. There was nothing to be wondered at in their +falling in love with each other. He had certainly never expected to +find such a pearl in such a wretched shell (I am alluding to the +God-forsaken town of O----), and she had never in her wildest dreams +seen anything in the least like this brilliant, clever, fascinating +aristocrat. + +After the first courtesies, Ozhogin introduced me to the prince, who +was very affable in his behaviour to me. He was as a rule very affable +with every one; and in spite of the immeasurable distance between him +and our obscure provincial circle, he was clever enough to avoid being +a source of constraint to any one, and even to make a show of being on +our level, and only living at Petersburg, as it were, by accident. + +That first evening.... Oh, that first evening! In our happy days of +childhood our teachers used to describe and set up before us as an +example the manly fortitude of the young Spartan, who, having stolen a +fox and hidden it under his tunic, without uttering one shriek let it +devour all his entrails, and so preferred death itself to disgrace.... +I can find no better comparison for my indescribable sufferings during +the evening on which I first saw the prince by Liza's side. My +continual forced smile and painful vigilance, my idiotic silence, my +miserable and ineffectual desire to get away--all that was doubtless +something truly remarkable in its own way. It was not one wild beast +alone gnawing at my vitals; jealousy, envy, the sense of my own +insignificance, and helpless hatred were torturing me. I could not but +admit that the prince really was a very agreeable young man.... I +devoured him with my eyes; I really believe I forgot to blink as usual, +as I stared at him. He talked not to Liza alone, but all he said was of +course really for her. He must have felt me a great bore. He most +likely guessed directly that it was a discarded lover he had to deal +with, but from sympathy for me, and also a profound sense of my +absolute harmlessness, he treated me with extraordinary gentleness. You +can fancy how this wounded me! In the course of the evening I tried, I +remember, to smooth over my mistake. I positively (don't laugh at me, +whoever you may be, who chance to look through these lines--especially +as it was my last illusion...) ... I, positively, in the midst of my +different sufferings, imagined all of a sudden that Liza wanted to +punish me for my haughty coldness at the beginning of my visit, that +she was angry with me and only flirting with the prince from pique.... +I seized my opportunity and with a meek but gracious smile, I went up +to her, and muttered--'Enough, forgive me, not that I'm afraid ...' and +suddenly, without awaiting her reply, I gave my features an +extraordinarily cheerful and free-and-easy expression, with a set grin, +passed my hand above my head in the direction of the ceiling (I wanted, +I remember, to set my cravat straight), and was even on the point of +pirouetting round on one foot, as though to say, 'All is over, I am +happy, let's all be happy,'--I did not, however, execute this +manoeuvre, as I was afraid of losing my balance, owing to an unnatural +stiffness in my knees.... Liza failed absolutely to understand me; she +looked in my face with amazement, gave a hasty smile, as though she +wanted to get rid of me as quickly as possible, and again approached +the prince. Blind and deaf as I was, I could not but be inwardly aware +that she was not in the least angry, and was not annoyed with me at +that instant: she simply never gave me a thought. The blow was a final +one. My last hopes were shattered with a crash, just as a block of ice, +thawed by the sunshine of spring, suddenly falls into tiny morsels. I +was utterly defeated at the first skirmish, and, like the Prussians at +Jena, lost everything at once in one day. No, she was not angry with +me!... + +Alas, it was quite the contrary! She too--I saw that--was being swept +off her feet by the torrent. Like a young tree, already half torn from +the bank, she bent eagerly over the stream, ready to abandon to it for +ever the first blossom of her spring and her whole life. A man whose +fate it has been to be the witness of such a passion, has lived through +bitter moments if he has loved himself and not been loved. I shall for +ever remember that devouring attention, that tender gaiety, that +innocent self-oblivion, that glance, still a child's and already a +woman's, that happy, as it were flowering smile that never left the +half-parted lips and glowing cheeks.... All that Liza had vaguely +foreshadowed during our walk in the wood had come to pass now--and she, +as she gave herself up utterly to love, was at once stiller and +brighter, like new wine, which ceases to ferment because its full +maturity has come.... + +I had the fortitude to sit through that first evening and the +subsequent evenings ... all to the end! I could have no hope of +anything. Liza and the prince became every day more devoted to each +other ... But I had absolutely lost all sense of personal dignity, and +could not tear myself away from the spectacle of my own misery. I +remember one day I tried not to go, swore to myself in the morning that +I would stay at home, and at eight o'clock in the evening (I usually +set off at seven) leaped up like a madman, put on my hat, and ran +breathless into Kirilla Matveitch's drawing-room. My position was +excessively absurd. I was obstinately silent; sometimes for whole days +together I did not utter a sound. I was, as I have said already, never +distinguished for eloquence; but now everything I had in my mind took +flight, as it were, in the presence of the prince, and I was left bare +and bereft. Besides, when I was alone, I set my wretched brain working +so hard, slowly going over everything I had noticed or surmised during +the preceding day, that when I went back to the Ozhogins' I scarcely +had energy left to observe again. They treated me considerately, as a +sick person; I saw that. Every morning I adopted some new, final +resolution, for the most part painfully hatched in the course of a +sleepless night. At one time I made up my mind to have it out with +Liza, to give her friendly advice ... but when I chanced to be alone +with her, my tongue suddenly ceased to work, froze as it were, and we +both, in great discomfort, waited for the entrance of some third +person. Another time I meant to run away, of course for ever, leaving +my beloved a letter full of reproaches, and I even one day began this +letter; but the sense of justice had not yet quite vanished in me. I +realised that I had no right to reproach any one for anything, and I +flung what I had written in the fire. Then I suddenly offered myself up +wholly as a sacrifice, gave Liza my benediction, praying for her +happiness, and smiled in meek and friendly fashion from my corner at +the prince. But the cruel-hearted lovers not only never thanked me for +my self-sacrifice, they never even noticed me, and were, apparently, +quite ready to dispense with my smiles and my blessings.... + +Then, in wrath, I suddenly flew into quite the opposite mood. I swore +to myself, wrapping my cloak about me like a Spaniard, to rush out from +some dark corner and stab my lucky rival, and with brutal glee I +imagined Liza's despair.... But, in the first place, such corners were +few in the town of O----; and, secondly--the wooden fence, the street +lamp, the policeman in the distance.... No! in such corners it was +somehow far more suitable to sell buns and oranges than to shed human +blood. I must own that, among other means of deliverance, as I very +vaguely expressed it in my colloquies with myself, I did entertain the +idea of having recourse to Ozhogin himself ... of calling the attention +of that nobleman to the perilous situation of his daughter, and the +mournful consequences of her indiscretion.... + +I even once began speaking to him on a certain delicate subject; but my +remarks were so indirect and misty, that after listening and listening +to me, he suddenly, as it were, waking up, rubbed his hand rapidly and +vigorously all over his face, not sparing his nose, gave a snort, and +walked away from me. It is needless to say that in resolving on this +step I persuaded myself that I was acting from the most disinterested +motives, was desirous of the general welfare, and was doing my duty as +a friend of the house.... But I venture to think that even had Kirilla +Matveitch not cut short my outpourings, I should in any case not have +had courage to finish my monologue. At times I set to work with all the +solemnity of some sage of antiquity, weighing the qualities of the +prince; at times I comforted myself with the hope that it was all of no +consequence, that Liza would recover her senses, that her love was not +real love ... oh, no! In short, I know no idea that I did not worry +myself with at that time. There was only one resource which never, I +candidly admit, entered my head: I never once thought of taking my +life. Why it did not occur to me I don't know.... Possibly, even then, +I had a presentiment I should not have long to live in any case. + +It will be readily understood that in such unfavourable circumstances +my manner, my behaviour with people, was more than ever marked by +unnaturalness and constraint. Even Madame Ozhogin--that creature +dull-witted from her birth up--began to shun me, and at times did not +know in what way to approach me. Bizmyonkov, always polite and ready to +do services, avoided me. I fancied even at that time that I had in him +a companion in misfortune--that he too loved Liza. But he never +responded to my hints, and altogether showed a reluctance to converse +with me. The prince behaved in a very friendly way to him; the prince, +one might say, respected him. Neither Bizmyonkov nor I was any obstacle +to the prince and Liza; but he did not shun them as I did, nor look +savage nor injured--and readily joined them when they desired it. It is +true that on such occasions he was not conspicuous for any special +mirthfulness; but his good-humour had always been somewhat subdued in +character. + +In this fashion about a fortnight passed by. The prince was not only +handsome and clever: he played the piano, sang, sketched fairly well, +and was a good hand at telling stories. His anecdotes, drawn from the +highest circles of Petersburg society, always made a great impression +on his audience, all the more so from the fact that he seemed to attach +no importance to them.... + +The consequence of this, if you like, simple accomplishment of the +prince's was that in the course of his not very protracted stay in the +town of O---- he completely fascinated all the neighbourhood. To +fascinate us poor dwellers in the steppes is at all times a very easy +task for any one coming from higher spheres. The prince's frequent +visits to the Ozhogins (he used to spend his evenings there) of course +aroused the jealousy of the other worthy gentry and officials of the +town. But the prince, like a clever person and a man of the world, +never neglected a single one of them; he called on all of them; to +every married lady and every unmarried miss he addressed at least one +flattering phrase, allowed them to feed him on elaborately solid +edibles, and to make him drink wretched wines with magnificent names; +and conducted himself, in short, like a model of caution and tact. +Prince N---- was in general a man of lively manners, sociable and +genial by inclination, and in this case incidentally from prudential +motives also; he could not fail to be a complete success in everything. + +Ever since his arrival, all in the house had felt that the time had +flown by with unusual rapidity; everything had gone off beautifully. +Papa Ozhogin, though he pretended that he noticed nothing, was +doubtless rubbing his hands in private at the idea of such a +son-in-law. The prince, for his part, managed matters with the utmost +sobriety and discretion, when, all of a sudden, an unexpected +incident.... + +Till to-morrow. To-day I'm tired. These recollections irritate me even +at the edge of the grave. Terentyevna noticed to-day that my nose has +already begun to grow sharp; and that, they say, is a bad sign. + + +_March 27. Thaw continuing._ + +Things were in the position described above: the prince and Liza were +in love with each other; the old Ozhogins were waiting to see what +would come of it; Bizmyonkov was present at the proceedings--there was +nothing else to be said of him. I was struggling like a fish on the +ice, and watching with all my might,--I remember that at that time I +set myself the task of preventing Liza at least from falling into the +snares of a seducer, and consequently began paying particular attention +to the maidservants and the fateful 'back stairs'--though, on the other +hand, I often spent whole nights in dreaming with what touching +magnanimity I would one day hold out a hand to the betrayed victim and +say to her, 'The traitor has deceived thee; but I am thy true friend +... let us forget the past and be happy!'--when sudden and glad +tidings overspread the whole town. The marshal of the district proposed +to give a great ball in honour of their respected guest, on his private +estate Gornostaevka. All the official world, big and little, of the +town of O---- received invitations, from the mayor down to the +apothecary, an excessively emaciated German, with ferocious pretensions +to a good Russian accent, which led him into continually and quite +inappropriately employing racy colloquialisms.... Tremendous +preparations were, of course, put in hand. One purveyor of cosmetics +sold sixteen dark-blue jars of pomatum, which bore the inscription _a +la jesmin_. The young ladies provided themselves with tight dresses, +agonising in the waist and jutting out sharply over the stomach; the +mammas put formidable erections on their heads by way of caps; the busy +papas were half dead with the bustle. The longed-for day arrived at +last. I was among those invited. From the town to Gornostaevka was +reckoned between seven and eight miles. Kirilla Matveitch offered me a +seat in his coach; but I refused.... In the same way children, who have +been punished, wishing to pay their parents out, refuse their favourite +dainties at table. Besides, I felt that my presence would be felt as a +constraint by Liza. Bizmyonkov took my place. The prince drove in his +own carriage, and I in a wretched little droshky, hired for an immense +sum for this solemn occasion. I am not going to describe that ball. +Everything about it was just as it always is. There was a band, with +trumpets extraordinarily out of tune, in the gallery; there were +country gentlemen, greatly flustered, with their inevitable families, +mauve ices, viscous lemonade; servants in boots trodden down at heel +and knitted cotton gloves; provincial lions with spasmodically +contorted faces, and so on and so on. And all this little world was +revolving round its sun--round the prince. Lost in the crowd, +unnoticed even by the young ladies of eight-and-forty, with red pimples +on their brows and blue flowers on the top of their heads, I stared +incessantly, first at the prince, then at Liza. She was very charmingly +dressed and very pretty that evening. They only twice danced together +(it is true, he danced the mazurka with her); but it seemed, to me at +least, that there was a sort of secret, continuous communication +between them. Even while not looking at her, while not speaking to her, +he was still, as it were, addressing her, and her alone. He was +handsome and brilliant and charming with other people--for her sake +only. She was apparently conscious that she was the queen of the ball, +and that she was loved. Her face at once beamed with childlike delight +and innocent pride, and was suddenly illuminated by another, deeper +feeling. Happiness radiated from her. I observed all this.... It was +not the first time I had watched them.... At first this wounded me +intensely; afterwards it, as it were, touched me; but, finally, it +infuriated me. I suddenly felt extraordinarily wrathful, and, I +remember, was extraordinarily delighted at this new sensation, and even +conceived a certain respect for myself. 'We'll show them we're not +crushed yet,' I said to myself. When the first inviting notes of the +mazurka sounded, I looked about me with composure, and with a cool and +easy air approached a long-faced young lady with a red and shiny nose, +a mouth that stood awkwardly open, as though it had come unbuttoned, +and a scraggy neck that recalled the handle of a bass-viol. I went up +to her, and, with a perfunctory scrape of my heels, invited her to the +dance. She was wearing a dress of faded rosebud pink, not full-blown +rose colour; on her head quivered a striped and dejected beetle of some +sort on a thick bronze pin; and altogether this lady was, if one may so +express it, soaked through and through with a sort of sour ennui and +inveterate lack of success. From the very commencement of the evening +she had not once stirred from her seat; no one had thought of asking +her to dance. One flaxen-headed youth of sixteen had, through lack of a +partner, been on the point of addressing this lady, and had taken a +step in her direction, but had thought better of it, stared at her, and +hurriedly dived into the crowd. You can fancy with what joyful +amazement she agreed to my proposal! I led her in triumph right across +the ballroom, picked out two chairs, and sat down with her in the ring +of the mazurka, among ten couples, almost opposite the prince, who had, +of course, been offered the first place. The prince, as I have said +already, was dancing with Liza. Neither I nor my partner was disturbed +by invitations; consequently, we had plenty of time for conversation. +To tell the truth, my partner was not conspicuous for her capacity for +the utterance of words in consecutive speech; she used her mouth +principally for the achievement of a strange downward smile such as I +had never till then beheld; while she raised her eyes upward, as though +some unseen force were pulling her face in two. But I did not feel her +lack of eloquence. Happily I felt full of wrath, and my partner did not +make me shy. I fell to finding fault with everything and every one in +the world, with especial emphasis on town-bred youngsters and +Petersburg dandies; and went to such lengths at last, that my partner +gradually ceased smiling, and instead of turning her eyes upward, began +suddenly--from astonishment, I suppose--to squint, and that so +strangely, as though she had for the first time observed the fact that +she had a nose on her face. And one of the lions, referred to above, +who was sitting next me, did not once take his eyes off me; he +positively turned to me with the expression of an actor on the stage, +who has waked up in an unfamiliar place, as though he would say, 'Is it +really you!' While I poured forth this tirade, I still, however, kept +watch on the prince and Liza. They were continually invited; but I +suffered less when they were both dancing; and even when they were +sitting side by side, and smiling as they talked to each other that +sweet smile which hardly leaves the faces of happy lovers, even then I +was not in such torture; but when Liza flitted across the room with +some desperate dandy of an hussar, while the prince with her blue gauze +scarf on his knees followed her dreamily with his eyes, as though +delighting in his conquest;--then, oh! then, I went through intolerable +agonies, and in my anger gave vent to such spiteful observations, that +the pupils of my partner's eyes simply fastened on her nose! + +Meanwhile the mazurka was drawing to a close. They were beginning the +figure called _la confidente_. In this figure the lady sits in the +middle of a circle, chooses another lady as her confidant, and whispers +in her ear the name of the gentleman with whom she wishes to dance. + +Her partner conducts one after another of the dancers to her; but the +lady, who is in the secret, refuses them, till at last the happy man +fixed on beforehand arrives. Liza sat in the middle of the circle and +chose the daughter of the host, one of those young ladies of whom one +says, 'God help them!'... The prince proceeded to discover her choice. +After presenting about a dozen young men to her in vain (the daughter +of the house refused them all with the most amiable of smiles), he at +last turned to me. + +Something extraordinary took place within me at that instant; I, as it +were, twitched all over, and would have refused, but got up and went +along. The prince conducted me to Liza.... She did not even look at me; +the daughter of the house shook her head in refusal, the prince turned +to me, and, probably incited by the goose-like expression of my face, +made me a deep bow. This sarcastic bow, this refusal, transmitted to me +through my triumphant rival, his careless smile, Liza's indifferent +inattention, all this lashed me to frenzy.... I moved up to the prince +and whispered furiously, 'You think fit to laugh at me, it seems?' + +The prince looked at me with contemptuous surprise, took my arm again, +and making a show of re-conducting me to my seat, answered coldly, 'I?' + +'Yes, you!' I went on in a whisper, obeying, however--that is to say, +following him to my place; 'you; but I do not intend to permit any +empty-headed Petersburg up-start----' + +The prince smiled tranquilly, almost condescendingly, pressed my arm, +whispered, 'I understand you; but this is not the place; we will have a +word later,' turned away from me, went up to Bizmyonkov, and led him up +to Liza. The pale little official turned out to be the chosen partner. +Liza got up to meet him. + +Sitting beside my partner with the dejected beetle on her head, I felt +almost a hero. My heart beat violently, my breast heaved gallantly +under my starched shirt front, I drew deep and hurried breaths, and +suddenly gave the local lion near me such a magnificent glare that +there was an involuntary quiver of his foot in my direction. Having +disposed of this person, I scanned the whole circle of dancers.... I +fancied two or three gentlemen were staring at me with some perplexity; +but, in general, my conversation with the prince had passed +unnoticed.... My rival was already back in his chair, perfectly +composed, and with the same smile on his face. Bizmyonkov led Liza back +to her place. She gave him a friendly bow, and at once turned to the +prince, as I fancied, with some alarm. But he laughed in response, with +a graceful wave of his hand, and must have said something very +agreeable to her, for she flushed with delight, dropped her eyes, and +then bent them with affectionate reproach upon him. + +The heroic frame of mind, which had suddenly developed in me, had not +disappeared by the end of the mazurka; but I did not indulge in any +more epigrams or 'quizzing.' I contented myself with glancing +occasionally with gloomy severity at my partner, who was obviously +beginning to be afraid of me, and was utterly tongue-tied and +continuously blinking by the time I placed her under the protection of +her mother, a very fat woman with a red cap on her head. Having +consigned the scared maiden lady to her natural belongings, I turned +away to a window, folded my arms, and began to await what would happen. +I had rather long to wait. The prince was the whole time surrounded by +his host--surrounded, simply, as England is surrounded by the sea,--to +say nothing of the other members of the marshal's family and the rest +of the guests. And besides, he could hardly go up to such an +insignificant person as me and begin to talk without arousing a general +feeling of surprise. This insignificance, I remember, was positively a +joy to me at the time. 'All right,' I thought, as I watched him +courteously addressing first one and then another highly respected +personage, honoured by his notice, if only for an 'instant's flash,' as +the poets say;--'all right, my dear ... you'll come to me soon--I've +insulted you, anyway.' At last the prince, adroitly escaping from the +throng of his adorers, passed close by me, looked somewhere between the +window and my hair, was turning away, and suddenly stood still, as +though he had recollected something. 'Ah, yes!' he said, turning to me +with a smile, 'by the way, I have a little matter to talk to you +about.' + +Two country gentlemen, of the most persistent, who were obstinately +pursuing the prince, probably imagined the 'little matter' to relate to +official business, and respectfully fell back. The prince took my arm +and led me apart. My heart was thumping at my ribs. + +'You, I believe,' he began, emphasising the word _you,_ and looking at +my chin with a contemptuous expression, which, strange to say, was +supremely becoming to his fresh and handsome face, 'you said something +abusive to me?' + +'I said what I thought,' I replied, raising my voice. + +'Sh ... quietly,' he observed; 'decent people don't bawl. You would +like, perhaps, to fight me?' + +'That's your affair,' I answered, drawing myself up. + +'I shall be obliged to challenge you,' he remarked carelessly, 'if you +don't withdraw your expressions....' + +'I do not intend to withdraw from anything,' I rejoined with pride. + +'Really?' he observed, with an ironical smile. + +'In that case,' he continued, after a brief pause, 'I shall have the +honour of sending my second to you to-morrow.' + +'Very good, 'I said in a voice, if possible, even more indifferent. + +The prince gave a slight bow. + +'I cannot prevent you from considering me empty-headed,' he added, with +a haughty droop of his eyelids; 'but the Princes N---- cannot be +upstarts. Good-bye till we meet, Mr.... Mr. Shtukaturin.' + +He quickly turned his back on me, and again approached his host, who +was already beginning to get excited. + +Mr. Shtukaturin!... My name is Tchulkaturin.... I could think of +nothing to say to him in reply to this last insult, and could only gaze +after him with fury. 'Till to-morrow,' I muttered, clenching my teeth, +and I at once looked for an officer of my acquaintance, a cavalry +captain in the Uhlans, called Koloberdyaev, a desperate rake, and a +very good fellow. To him I related, in few words, my quarrel with the +prince, and asked him to be my second. He, of course, promptly +consented, and I went home. + +I could not sleep all night--from excitement, not from cowardice. I am +not a coward. I positively thought very little of the possibility +confronting me of losing my life--that, as the Germans assure us, +highest good on earth. I could think only of Liza, of my ruined hopes, +of what I ought to do. 'Ought I to try to kill the prince?' I asked +myself; and, of course, I wanted to kill him--not from revenge, but +from a desire for Liza's good. 'But she will not survive such a blow,' +I went on. 'No, better let him kill me!' I must own it was an agreeable +reflection, too, that I, an obscure provincial person, had forced a man +of such consequence to fight a duel with me. + +The morning light found me still absorbed in these reflections; and, +not long after it, appeared Koloberdyaev. + +'Well,' he asked me, entering my room with a clatter, 'where's the +prince's second?' 'Upon my word,' I answered with annoyance, 'it's +seven o'clock at the most; the prince is still asleep, I should +imagine.' 'In that case,' replied the cavalry officer, in nowise +daunted, 'order some tea for me. My head aches from yesterday +evening.... I've not taken my clothes off all night. Though, indeed,' +he added with a yawn, 'I don't as a rule often take my clothes off.' + +Some tea was given him. He drank off six glasses of tea and rum, smoked +four pipes, told me he had on the previous day bought, for next to +nothing, a horse the coachman refused to drive, and that he was meaning +to drive her out with one of her fore legs tied up, and fell asleep, +without undressing, on the sofa, with a pipe in his mouth. I got up and +put my papers to rights. One note of invitation from Liza, the one note +I had received from her, I was on the point of putting in my bosom, but +on second thoughts I flung it in a drawer. Koloberdyaev was snoring +feebly, with his head hanging from the leather pillow.... For a long +while, I remember, I scrutinised his unkempt, daring, careless, and +good-natured face. At ten o'clock the man announced the arrival of +Bizmyonkov. The prince had chosen him as second. + +We both together roused the soundly sleeping cavalry officer. He sat +up, stared at us with dim eyes, in a hoarse voice demanded vodka. He +recovered himself, and exchanging greetings with Bizmyonkov, he went +with him into the next room to arrange matters. The consultation of the +worthy seconds did not last long. A quarter of an hour later, they both +came into my bedroom. Koloberdyaev announced to me that 'we're going to +fight to-day at three o'clock with pistols.' In silence I bent my head, +in token of my agreement. Bizmyonkov at once took leave of us, and +departed. He was rather pale and inwardly agitated, like a man unused +to such jobs, but he was, nevertheless, very polite and chilly. I felt, +as it were, conscience-stricken in his presence, and did not dare look +him in the face. Koloberdyaev began telling me about his horse. This +conversation was very welcome to me. I was afraid he would mention +Liza. But the good-natured cavalry officer was not a gossip, and, +moreover, he despised all women, calling them, God knows why, green +stuff. At two o'clock we had lunch, and at three we were at the place +fixed upon--the very birch copse in which I had once walked with Liza, +a couple of yards from the precipice. + +We arrived first; but the prince and Bizmyonkov did not keep us long +waiting. The prince was, without exaggeration, as fresh as a rose; his +brown eyes looked out with excessive cordiality from under the peak of +his cap. He was smoking a cigar, and on seeing Koloberdyaev shook his +hand in a friendly way. + +Even to me he bowed very genially. I was conscious, on the contrary, of +being pale, and my hands, to my terrible vexation, were slightly +trembling ... my throat was parched.... I had never fought a duel +before. 'O God!' I thought; 'if only that ironical gentleman doesn't +take my agitation for timidity!' I was inwardly cursing my nerves; but +glancing, at last, straight in the prince's face, and catching on his +lips an almost imperceptible smile, I suddenly felt furious again, and +was at once at my ease. Meanwhile, our seconds were fixing the barrier, +measuring out the paces, loading the pistols. Koloberdyaev did most; +Bizmyonkov rather watched him. It was a magnificent day--as fine as the +day of that ever-memorable walk. The thick blue of the sky peeped, as +then, through the golden green of the leaves. Their lisping seemed to +mock me. The prince went on smoking his cigar, leaning with his +shoulder against the trunk of a young lime-tree.... + +'Kindly take your places, gentlemen; ready,' Koloberdyaev pronounced at +last, handing us pistols. + +The prince walked a few steps away, stood still, and, turning his head, +asked me over his shoulder, 'You still refuse to take back your words, +then?' + +I tried to answer him; but my voice failed me, and I had to content +myself with a contemptuous wave of the hand. The prince smiled again, +and took up his position in his place. We began to approach one +another. I raised my pistol, was about to aim at my enemy's chest--but +suddenly tilted it up, as though some one had given my elbow a shove, +and fired. The prince tottered, and put his left hand to his left +temple--a thread of blood was flowing down his cheek from under the +white leather glove, Bizmyonkov rushed up to him. + +'It's all right,' he said, taking off his cap, which the bullet had +pierced; 'since it's in the head, and I've not fallen, it must be a +mere scratch.' + +He calmly pulled a cambric handkerchief out of his pocket, and put it +to his blood-stained curls. + +I stared at him, as though I were turned to stone, and did not stir. + +'Go up to the barrier, if you please!' Koloberdyaev observed severely. + +I obeyed. + +'Is the duel to go on?' he added, addressing Bizmyonkov. + +Bizmyonkov made him no answer. But the prince, without taking the +handkerchief from the wound, without even giving himself the +satisfaction of tormenting me at the barrier, replied with a smile. +'The duel is at an end,' and fired into the air. I was almost crying +with rage and vexation. This man by his magnanimity had utterly +trampled me in the mud; he had completely crushed me. I was on the +point of making objections, on the point of demanding that he should +fire at me. But he came up to me, and held out his hand. + +'It's all forgotten between us, isn't it?' he said in a friendly voice. + +I looked at his blanched face, at the blood-stained handkerchief, and +utterly confounded, put to shame, and annihilated, I pressed his hand. + +'Gentlemen!' he added, turning to the seconds, 'everything, I hope, +will be kept secret?' + +'Of course!' cried Koloberdyaev; 'but, prince, allow me ...' + +And he himself bound up his head. + +The prince, as he went away, bowed to me once more. But Bizmyonkov did +not even glance at me. Shattered--morally shattered--went homewards +with Koloberdyaev. + +'Why, what's the matter with you?' the cavalry captain asked me. 'Set +your mind at rest; the wound's not serious. He'll be able to dance by +to-morrow, if you like. Or are you sorry you didn't kill him? You're +wrong, if you are; he's a first-rate fellow.' + +'What business had he to spare me!' I muttered at last. + +'Oh, so that's it!' the cavalry captain rejoined tranquilly... 'Ugh, +you writing fellows are too much for me!' + +I don't know what put it into his head to consider me an author. + +I absolutely decline to describe my torments during the evening +following upon that luckless duel. My vanity suffered indescribably. It +was not my conscience that tortured me; the consciousness of my +imbecility crushed me. 'I have given myself the last decisive blow by +my own act!' I kept repeating, as I strode up and down my room. 'The +prince, wounded by me, and forgiving me... Yes, Liza is now his. Now +nothing can save her, nothing can hold her back on the edge of the +abyss.' I knew very well that our duel could not be kept secret, in +spite of the prince's words; in any case, it could not remain a secret +for Liza. + +'The prince is not such a fool,' I murmured in a frenzy of rage, 'as +not to profit by it.'... But, meanwhile, I was mistaken. The whole town +knew of the duel and of its real cause next day, of course. But the +prince had not blabbed of it; on the contrary, when, with his head +bandaged and an explanation ready, he made his appearance before Liza, +she had already heard everything.... Whether Bizmyonkov had betrayed +me, or the news had reached her by other channels, I cannot say. +Though, indeed, can anything ever be concealed in a little town? You +can fancy how Liza received him, how all the family of the Ozhogins +received him! As for me, I suddenly became an object of universal +indignation and loathing, a monster, a jealous bloodthirsty madman. My +few acquaintances shunned me as if I were a leper. The authorities of +the town promptly addressed the prince, with a proposal to punish me in +a severe and befitting manner. Nothing but the persistent and urgent +entreaties of the prince himself averted the calamity that menaced me. +That man was fated to annihilate me in every way. By his generosity he +had shut, as it were, a coffin-lid down upon me. It's needless to say +that the Ozhogins' doors were at once closed against me. Kirilla +Matveitch even sent me back a bit of pencil I had left in his house. In +reality, he, of all people, had no reason to be angry with me. My +'insane' (that was the expression current in the town) jealousy had +pointed out, defined, so to speak, the relations of the prince to Liza. +Both the old Ozhogins themselves and their fellow-citizens began to +look on him almost as betrothed to her. This could not, as a fact, have +been quite to his liking. But he was greatly attracted by Liza; and +meanwhile, he had not at that time attained his aims. With all the +adroitness of a clever man of the world, he took advantage of his new +position, and promptly entered, as they say, into the spirit of his new +part.... + +But I!... For myself, for my future, I renounced all hopes, at that +time. When suffering reaches the point of making our whole being creak +and groan, like an overloaded cart, it ought to cease to be ridiculous +... but no! laughter not only accompanies tears to the end, to +exhaustion, to the impossibility of shedding more--it even rings and +echoes, where the tongue is dumb, and complaint itself is dead.... And +so, as in the first place I don't intend to expose myself as ridiculous, +even to myself, and secondly as I am fearfully tired, I will put off the +continuation, and please God the conclusion, of my story till +tomorrow.... + + +_March 29. + +A slight frost; yesterday it was thawing._ + +Yesterday I had not the strength to go on with my diary; like +Poprishtchin, I lay, for the most part, on my bed, and talked to +Terentyevna. What a woman! Sixty years ago she lost her first betrothed +from the plague, she has outlived all her children, she is inexcusably +old, drinks tea to her heart's desire, is well fed, and warmly clothed; +and what do you suppose she was talking to me about, all day yesterday? +I had sent another utterly destitute old woman the collar of an old +livery, half moth-eaten, to put on her vest (she wears strips over the +chest by way of vest) ... and why wasn't it given to her? 'But I'm your +nurse; I should think... Oh ... oh, my good sir, it's too bad of you +... after I've looked after you as I have!' ... and so on. The +merciless old woman utterly wore me out with her reproaches.... But to +get back to my story. + +And so, I suffered like a dog, whose hindquarters have been run over by +a wheel. It was only then, only after my banishment from the Ozhogins' +house, that I fully realised how much happiness a man can extract from +the contemplation of his own unhappiness. O men! pitiful race, indeed! + +... But, away with philosophical reflections.... I spent my days in +complete solitude, and could only by the most roundabout and even +humiliating methods find out what was passing in the Ozhogins' +household, and what the prince was doing. My man had made friends with +the cousin of the latter's coachman's wife. This acquaintance afforded +me some slight relief, and my man soon guessed, from my hints and +little presents, what he was to talk about to his master when he pulled +his boots off every evening. Sometimes I chanced to meet some one of +the Ozhogins' family, Bizmyonkov, or the prince in the street.... To +the prince and to Bizmyonkov I bowed, but I did not enter into +conversation with them. Liza I only saw three times: once, with her +mamma, in a fashionable shop; once, in an open carriage with her father +and mother and the prince; and once, in church. Of course, I was not +impudent enough to approach her, and only watched her from a distance. +In the shop she was very much preoccupied, but cheerful.... She was +ordering something for herself, and busily matching ribbons. Her mother +was gazing at her, with her hands folded on her lap, and her nose in +the air, smiling with that foolish and devoted smile which is only +permissible in adoring mothers. In the carriage with the prince, Liza +was ... I shall never forget that meeting! The old people were sitting +in the back seats of the carriage, the prince and Liza in the front. +She was paler than usual; on her cheek two patches of pink could just +be seen. She was half facing the prince; leaning on her straight right +arm (in the left hand she was holding a sunshade), with her little head +drooping languidly, she was looking straight into his face with her +expressive eyes. At that instant she surrendered herself utterly to +him, intrusted herself to him for ever. I had not time to get a good +look at his face--the carriage galloped by too quickly,--but I fancied +that he too was deeply touched. + +The third time I saw her in church. Not more than ten days had passed +since the day when I met her in the carriage with the prince, not more +than three weeks since the day of my duel. The business upon which the +prince had come to O---- was by now completed. But he still kept +putting off his departure. At Petersburg, he was reported to be ill. In +the town, it was expected every day that he would make a proposal in +form to Kirilla Matveitch. I was myself only awaiting this final blow +to go away for ever. The town of O---- had grown hateful to me. I could +not stay indoors, and wandered from morning to night about the suburbs. +One grey, gloomy day, as I was coming back from a walk, which had been +cut short by the rain, I went into a church. The evening service had +only just begun, there were very few people; I looked round me, and +suddenly, near a window, caught sight of a familiar profile. For the +first instant, I did not recognise it: that pale face, that spiritless +glance, those sunken cheeks--could it be the same Liza I had seen a +fortnight before? Wrapped in a cloak, without a hat on, with the cold +light from the broad white window falling on her from one side, she was +gazing fixedly at the holy image, and seemed striving to pray, striving +to awake from a sort of listless stupor. A red-cheeked, fat little page +with yellow trimmings on his chest was standing behind her, and, with +his hands clasped behind his back, stared in sleepy bewilderment at his +mistress. I trembled all over, was about to go up to her, but stopped +short. I felt choked by a torturing presentiment. Till the very end of +the evening service, Liza did not stir. All the people went out, a +beadle began sweeping out the church, but still she did not move from +her place. The page went up to her, said something to her, touched her +dress; she looked round, passed her hand over her face, and went away. +I followed her home at a little distance, and then returned to my +lodging. + +'She is lost!' I cried, when I had got into my room. + +As a man, I don't know to this day what my sensations were at that +moment. I flung myself, I remember, with clasped hands, on the sofa and +fixed my eyes on the floor. But I don't know--in the midst of my woe I +was, as it were, pleased at something.... I would not admit this for +anything in the world, if I were not writing only for myself.... I had +been tormented, certainly, by terrible, harassing suspicions ... and +who knows, I should, perhaps, have been greatly disconcerted if they +had not been fulfilled. 'Such is the heart of man!' some middle-aged +Russian teacher would exclaim at this point in an expressive voice, +while he raises a fat forefinger, adorned with a cornelian ring. But +what have we to do with the opinion of a Russian teacher, with an +expressive voice and a cornelian on his finger? + +Be that as it may, my presentiment turned out to be well founded. +Suddenly the news was all over the town that the prince had gone away, +presumably in consequence of a summons from Petersburg; that he had +gone away without making any proposal to Kirilla Matveitch or his wife, +and that Liza would have to deplore his treachery till the end of her +days. The prince's departure was utterly unexpected, for only the +evening before his coachman, so my man assured me, had not the +slightest suspicion of his master's intentions. This piece of news +threw me into a perfect fever. I at once dressed, and was on the point +of hastening to the Ozhogins', but on thinking the matter over I +considered it more seemly to wait till the next day. I lost nothing, +however, by remaining at home. The same evening, there came to see me +in all haste a certain Pandopipopulo, a wandering Greek, stranded by +some chance in the town of O----, a scandalmonger of the first +magnitude, who had been more indignant with me than any one for my duel +with the prince. He did not even give my man time to announce him; he +fairly burst into my room, warmly pressed my hand, begged my pardon a +thousand times, called me a paragon of magnanimity and courage, painted +the prince in the darkest colours, censured the old Ozhogins, who, in +his opinion, had been punished as they deserved, made a slighting +reference to Liza in passing, and hurried off again, kissing me on my +shoulder. Among other things, I learned from him that the prince, _en +vrai grand seigneur_, on the eve of his departure, in response to a +delicate hint from Kirilla Matveitch, had answered coldly that he had +no intention of deceiving any one, and no idea of marrying, had risen, +made his bow, and that was all.... Next day I set off to the Ozhogins'. +The shortsighted footman leaped up from his bench on my appearance, +with the rapidity of lightning. I bade him announce me; the footman +hurried away and returned at once. 'Walk in,' he said; 'you are begged +to go in.' I went into Kirilla Matveitch's study.... The rest +to-morrow. + + +_March 30. Frost._ + +And so I went into Kirilla Matveitch's study. I would pay any one +handsomely, who could show me now my own face at the moment when that +highly respected official, hurriedly flinging together his +dressing-gown, approached me with outstretched arms. I must have been a +perfect picture of modest triumph, indulgent sympathy, and boundless +magnanimity.... I felt myself something in the style of Scipio +Africanus. Ozhogin was visibly confused and cast down, he avoided my +eyes, and kept fidgeting about. I noticed, too, that he spoke +unnaturally loudly, and in general expressed himself very vaguely. +Vaguely, but with warmth, he begged my forgiveness, vaguely alluded to +their departed guest, added a few vague generalities about deception +and the instability of earthly blessings, and, suddenly feeling the +tears in his eyes, hastened to take a pinch of snuff, probably in order +to deceive me as to the cause of his tearfulness.... He used the +Russian green snuff, and it's well known that that article forces even +old men to shed tears that make the human eye look dull and senseless +for several minutes. + +I behaved, of course, very cautiously with the old man, inquired after +the health of his wife and daughter, and at once artfully turned the +conversation on to the interesting subject of the rotation of crops. I +was dressed as usual, but the feeling of gentle propriety and soft +indulgence which filled me gave me a fresh and festive sensation, as +though I had on a white waistcoat and a white cravat. One thing +agitated me, the thought of seeing Liza.... Ozhogin, at last, proposed +of his own accord to take me up to his wife. The kind-hearted but +foolish woman was at first terribly embarrassed on seeing me; but her +brain was not capable of retaining the same impression for long, and so +she was soon at her ease. At last I saw Liza ... she came into the +room.... + +I had expected to find in her a shamed and penitent sinner, and had +assumed beforehand the most affectionate and reassuring expression of +face.... Why lie about it? I really loved her and was thirsting for the +happiness of forgiving her, of holding out a hand to her; but to my +unutterable astonishment, in response to my significant bow, she +laughed coldly, observed carelessly, 'Oh, is that you?' and at once +turned away from me. It is true that her laugh struck me as forced, and +in any case did not accord well with her terribly thin face ... but, +all the same, I had not expected such a reception.... I looked at her +with amazement ... what a change had taken place in her! Between the +child she had been and the woman before me, there was nothing in +common. She had, as it were, grown up, straightened out; all the +features of her face, especially her lips, seemed defined ... her gaze +had grown deeper, harder, and gloomier. I stayed on at the Ozhogins' +till dinner-time. She got up, went out of the room, and came back +again, answered questions with composure, and designedly took no notice +of me. She wanted, I saw, to make me feel that I was not worth her +anger, though I had been within an ace of killing her lover. I lost +patience at last; a malicious allusion broke from my lips.... She +started, glanced swiftly at me, got up, and going to the window, +pronounced in a rather shaky voice, 'You can say anything you like, but +let me tell you that I love that man, and always shall love him, and do +not consider that he has done me any injury, quite the contrary.'... +Her voice broke, she stopped ... tried to control herself, but could +not, burst into tears, and went out of the room.... The old people were +much upset.... I pressed the hands of both, sighed, turned my eyes +heavenward, and withdrew. + +I am too weak, I have too little time left, I am not capable of +describing in the same detail the new range of torturing reflections, +firm resolutions, and all the other fruits of what is called inward +conflict, that arose within me after the renewal of my acquaintance +with the Ozhogins. I did not doubt that Liza still loved, and would +long love, the prince ... but as one reconciled to the inevitable, and +anxious myself to conciliate, I did not even dream of her love. I +desired only her affection, I desired to gain her confidence, her +respect, which, we are assured by persons of experience, forms the +surest basis for happiness in marriage.... Unluckily, I lost sight of +one rather important circumstance, which was that Liza had hated me +ever since the day of the duel. I found this out too late. I began, as +before, to be a frequent visitor at the house of the Ozhogins. Kirilla +Matveitch received me with more effusiveness and affability than he had +ever done. I have even ground for believing that he would at that time +have cheerfully given me his daughter, though I was certainly not a +match to be coveted. Public opinion was very severe upon him and Liza, +while, on the other hand, it extolled me to the skies. Liza's attitude +to me was unchanged. She was, for the most part, silent; obeyed, when +they begged her to eat, showed no outward signs of sorrow, but, for all +that, was wasting away like a candle. I must do Kirilla Matveitch the +justice to say that he spared her in every way. Old Madame Ozhogin only +ruffled up her feathers like a hen, as she looked at her poor nestling. +There was only one person Liza did not shun, though she did not talk +much even to him, and that was Bizmyonkov. The old people were rather +short, not to say rude, in their behaviour to him. They could not +forgive him for having been second in the duel. But he went on going to +see them, as though he did not notice their unamiability. With me he +was very chilly, and--strange to say--I felt, as it were, afraid of +him. This state of things went on for a fortnight. At last, after a +sleepless night, I resolved to have it out with Liza, to open my heart +to her, to tell her that, in spite of the past, in spite of all +possible gossip and scandal, I should consider myself only too happy if +she would give me her hand, and restore me her confidence. I really did +seriously imagine that I was showing what they call in the school +reading-books an unparalleled example of magnanimity, and that, from +sheer amazement alone, she would consent. In any case, I resolved to +have an explanation and to escape, at last, from suspense. + +Behind the Ozhogins' house was a rather large garden, which ended in a +little grove of lime-trees, neglected and overgrown. In the middle of +this thicket stood an old summer-house in the Chinese style: a wooden +paling separated the garden from a blind alley. Liza would sometimes +walk, for hours together, alone in this garden. Kirilla Matveitch was +aware of this, and forbade her being disturbed or followed; let her +grief wear itself out, he said. When she could not be found indoors, +they had only to ring a bell on the steps at dinner-time and she made +her appearance at once, with the same stubborn silence on her lips and +in her eyes, and some little leaf crushed up in her hand. So, noticing +one day that she was not in the house, I made a show of going away, +took leave of Kirilla Matveitch, put on my hat, and went out from the +hall into the courtyard, and from the courtyard into the street, but +promptly darted in at the gate again with extraordinary rapidity and +hurried past the kitchen into the garden. Luckily no one noticed me. +Without losing time in deliberation, I went with rapid steps into the +grove. In a little path before me was standing Liza. My heart beat +violently. I stood still, drew a deep sigh, and was just on the point +of going up to her, when suddenly she lifted her hand without turning +round, and began listening.... From behind the trees, in the direction +of the blind alley, came a distinct sound of two knocks, as though some +one were tapping at the paling. Liza clapped her hands together, there +was heard the faint creak of the gate, and out of the thicket stepped +Bizmyonkov. I hastily hid behind a tree. Liza turned towards him +without speaking.... Without speaking, he drew her arm in his, and the +two walked slowly along the path together. I looked after them in +amazement. They stopped, looked round, disappeared behind the bushes, +reappeared again, and finally went into the summer-house. This +summer-house was a diminutive round edifice, with a door and one little +window. In the middle stood an old one-legged table, overgrown with +fine green moss; two discoloured deal benches stood along the sides, +some distance from the damp and darkened walls. Here, on exceptionally +hot days, in bygone times, perhaps once a year or so, they had drunk +tea. The door did not quite shut, the window-frame had long ago come +out of the window, and hung disconsolately, only attached at one +corner, like a bird's broken wing. I stole up to the summer-house, and +peeped cautiously through the chink in the window. Liza was sitting on +one of the benches, with her head drooping. Her right hand lay on her +knees, the left Bizmyonkov was holding in both his hands. He was +looking sympathetically at her. + +'How do you feel to-day?' he asked her in a low voice. + +'Just the same,' she answered, 'not better, nor worse.--The emptiness, +the fearful emptiness!' she added, raising her eyes dejectedly. + +Bizmyonkov made her no answer. + +'What do you think,' she went on: 'will he write to me once more?' + +'I don't think so, Lizaveta Kirillovna!' + +She was silent. + +'And after all, why should he write? He told me everything in his first +letter. I could not be his wife; but I have been happy ... not for long +... I have been happy ...' + +Bizmyonkov looked down. + +'Ah,' she went on quickly, 'if you knew how I loathe that Tchulkaturin +... I always fancy I see on that man's hands ... his blood.' (I +shuddered behind my chink.) 'Though indeed,' she added, dreamily, 'who +knows, perhaps, if it had not been for that duel.... Ah, when I saw him +wounded I felt at once that I was altogether his.' + +'Tchulkaturin loves you,' observed Bizmyonkov. + +'What is that to me? I don't want any one's love.'... She stopped and +added slowly, 'Except yours. Yes, my friend, your love is necessary to +me; except for you, I should be lost. You have helped me to bear +terrible moments ...' + +She broke off ... Bizmyonkov began with fatherly tenderness stroking +her hand. + +'There's no help for it! What is one to do! what is one to do, Lizaveta +Kirillovna!' he repeated several times. + +'And now indeed,' she went on in a lifeless voice, 'I should die, I +think, if it were not for you. It's you alone that keep me up; besides, +you remind me of him.... You knew all about it, you see. Do you +remember how fine he was that day.... But forgive me; it must be hard +for you....' + +'Go on, go on! Nonsense! Bless you!' Bizmyonkov interrupted her. + +She pressed his hand. + +'You are very good, Bizmyonkov,' she went on;' you are good as an +angel. What can I do! I feel I shall love him to the grave. I have +forgiven him, I am grateful to him. God give him happiness! May God +give him a wife after his own heart'--and her eyes filled with +tears--'if only he does not forget me, if only he will sometimes think +of his Liza!--Let us go,' she added, after a brief silence. + +Bizmyonkov raised her hand to his lips. + +'I know,' she began again hotly, 'every one is blaming me now, every +one is throwing stones at me. Let them! I wouldn't, any way, change my +misery for their happiness ... no! no!... He did not love me for long, +but he loved me! He never deceived me, he never told me I should be his +wife; I never dreamed of it myself. It was only poor papa hoped for it. +And even now I am not altogether unhappy; the memory remains to me, and +however fearful the results ... I'm stifling here ... it was here I saw +him the last time.... Let's go into the air.' + +They got up. I had only just time to skip on one side and hide behind a +thick lime-tree. They came out of the summer-house, and, as far as I +could judge by the sound of their steps, went away into the thicket. I +don't know how long I went on standing there, without stirring from my +place, plunged in a sort of senseless amazement, when suddenly I heard +steps again. I started, and peeped cautiously out from my hiding-place. +Bizmyonkov and Liza were coming back along the same path. Both were +greatly agitated, especially Bizmyonkov. + +I fancied he was crying. Liza stopped, looked at him, and distinctly +uttered the following words: 'I do consent, Bizmyonkov. I would never +have agreed if you were only trying to save me, to rescue me from a +terrible position, but you love me, you know everything--and you love +me. I shall never find a trustier, truer friend. I will be your wife.' + +Bizmyonkov kissed her hand: she smiled at him mournfully and moved away +towards the house. Bizmyonkov rushed into the thicket, and I went my +way. Seeing that Bizmyonkov had apparently said to Liza precisely what +I had intended to say to her, and she had given him precisely the reply +I was longing to hear from her, there was no need for me to trouble +myself further. Within a fortnight she was married to him. The old +Ozhogins were thankful to get any husband for her. + +Now, tell me, am I not a superfluous man? Didn't I play throughout the +whole story the part of a superfluous person? The prince's part ... of +that it's needless to speak; Bizmyonkov's part, too, is +comprehensible.... But I--with what object was I mixed up in it?... A +senseless fifth wheel to the cart!... Ah, it's bitter, bitter for +me!... But there, as the barge-haulers say, 'One more pull, and one +more yet,'--one day more, and one more yet, and there will be no more +bitter nor sweet for me. + + +_March 31_. + +I'm in a bad way. I am writing these lines in bed. Since yesterday +evening there has been a sudden change in the weather. To-day is hot, +almost a summer day. Everything is thawing, breaking up, flowing away. +The air is full of the smell of the opened earth, a strong, heavy, +stifling smell. Steam is rising on all sides. The sun seems beating, +seems smiting everything to pieces. I am very ill, I feel that I am +breaking up. + +I meant to write my diary, and, instead of that, what have I done? I +have related one incident of my life. I gossiped on, slumbering +reminiscences were awakened and drew me away. I have written, without +haste, in detail, as though I had years before me. And here now, +there's no time to go on. Death, death is coming. I can hear her +menacing _crescendo_. The time is come ... the time is come!... + +And indeed, what does it matter? Isn't it all the same whatever I +write? In sight of death the last earthly cares vanish. I feel I have +grown calm; I am becoming simpler, clearer. Too late I've gained +sense!... It's a strange thing! I have grown calm--certainly, and at +the same time ... I'm full of dread. Yes, I'm full of dread. Half +hanging over the silent, yawning abyss, I shudder, turn away, with +greedy intentness gaze at everything about me. Every object is doubly +precious to me. I cannot gaze enough at my poor, cheerless room, saying +farewell to each spot on my walls. Take your fill for the last time, my +eyes. Life is retreating; slowly and smoothly she is flying away from +me, as the shore flies from the eyes of one at sea. The old yellow face +of my nurse, tied up in a dark kerchief, the hissing samovar on the +table, the pot of geranium in the window, and you, my poor dog, Tresor, +the pen I write these lines with, my own hand, I see you now ... here +you are, here.... Is it possible ... can it be, to-day ... I shall +never see you again! It's hard for a live creature to part with life! +Why do you fawn on me, poor dog? why do you come putting your forepaws +on the bed, with your stump of a tail wagging so violently, and your +kind, mournful eyes fixed on me all the while? Are you sorry for me? or +do you feel already that your master will soon be gone? Ah, if I could +only keep my thoughts, too, resting on all the objects in my room! I +know these reminiscences are dismal and of no importance, but I have no +other. 'The emptiness, the fearful emptiness!' as Liza said. + +O my God, my God! Here I am dying.... A heart capable of loving and +ready to love will soon cease to beat.... And can it be it will be +still for ever without having once known happiness, without having once +expanded under the sweet burden of bliss? Alas! it's impossible, +impossible, I know.... If only now, at least, before death--for death +after all is a sacred thing, after all it elevates any being--if any +kind, sad, friendly voice would sing over me a farewell song of my own +sorrow, I could, perhaps, be resigned to it. But to die stupidly, +stupidly.... + +I believe I'm beginning to rave. + +Farewell, life! farewell, my garden! and you, my lime-trees! When the +summer comes, do not forget to be clothed with flowers from head to +foot ... and may it be sweet for people to lie in your fragrant shade, +on the fresh grass, among the whispering chatter of your leaves, +lightly stirred by the wind. Farewell, farewell! Farewell, everything +and for ever! + +Farewell, Liza! I wrote those two words, and almost laughed aloud. This +exclamation strikes me as taken out of a book. It's as though I were +writing a sentimental novel and ending up a despairing letter.... + +To-morrow is the first of April. Can I be going to die to-morrow? That +would be really too unseemly. It's just right for me, though ... + +How the doctor did chatter to-day. + + +_April_ 1. + +It is over.... Life is over. I shall certainly die to-day. It's hot +outside ... almost suffocating ... or is it that my lungs are already +refusing to breathe? My little comedy is played out. The curtain is +falling. + +Sinking into nothing, I cease to be superfluous ... + +Ah, how brilliant that sun is! Those mighty beams breathe of eternity ... + +Farewell, Terentyevna!... This morning as she sat at the window she was +crying ... perhaps over me ... and perhaps because she too will soon +have to die. I have made her promise not to kill Tresor. + +It's hard for me to write.... I will put down the pen.... It's high +time; death is already approaching with ever-increasing rumble, like a +carriage at night over the pavement; it is here, it is flitting about +me, like the light breath which made the prophet's hair stand up on +end. + +I am dying.... Live, you who are living, + + 'And about the grave + May youthful life rejoice, + And nature heedless + Glow with eternal beauty. + +_Note by the Editor_.--Under this last line was a head in profile with +a big streak of hair and moustaches, with eyes _en face_, and eyelashes +like rays; and under the head some one had written the following words: + + 'This manuscript was read + And the Contents of it Not Approved + By Peter Zudotyeshin + My My My + My dear Sir, + Peter Zudotyeshin, + Dear Sir.' + +But as the handwriting of these lines was not in the least like the +handwriting in which the other part of the manuscript was written, the +editor considers that he is justified in concluding that the above +lines were added subsequently by another person, especially since it +has come to his (the editor's) knowledge that Mr. Tchulkaturin actually +did die on the night between the 1st and 2nd of April in the year 18--, +at his native place, Sheep's Springs. + + + * * * * * + + +A TOUR IN THE FOREST + + + + + +FIRST DAY + + +The sight of the vast pinewood, embracing the whole horizon, the sight +of the 'Forest,' recalls the sight of the ocean. And the sensations it +arouses are the same; the same primaeval untouched force lies +outstretched in its breadth and majesty before the eyes of the +spectator. From the heart of the eternal forest, from the undying bosom +of the waters, comes the same voice: 'I have nothing to do with +thee,'--nature says to man, 'I reign supreme, while do thou bestir +thyself to thy utmost to escape dying.' But the forest is gloomier and +more monotonous than the sea, especially the pine forest, which is +always alike and almost soundless. The ocean menaces and caresses, it +frolics with every colour, speaks with every voice; it reflects the +sky, from which too comes the breath of eternity, but an eternity as it +were not so remote from us.... The dark, unchanging pine-forest keeps +sullen silence or is filled with a dull roar--and at the sight of it +sinks into man's heart more deeply, more irresistibly, the sense of his +own nothingness. It is hard for man, the creature of a day, born +yesterday, and doomed to death on the morrow, it is hard for him to +bear the cold gaze of the eternal Isis, fixed without sympathy upon +him: not only the daring hopes and dreams of youth are humbled and +quenched within him, enfolded by the icy breath of the elements; +no--his whole soul sinks down and swoons within him; he feels that the +last of his kind may vanish off the face of the earth--and not one +needle will quiver on those twigs; he feels his isolation, his +feebleness, his fortuitousness;--and in hurried, secret panic, he turns +to the petty cares and labours of life; he is more at ease in that +world he has himself created; there he is at home, there he dares yet +believe in his own importance and in his own power. + +Such were the ideas that came into my mind, some years ago, when, +standing on the steps of a little inn on the bank of the marshy little +river Ressetta, I first gazed upon the forest. The bluish masses of +fir-forest lay in long, continuous ridges before me; here and there was +the green patch of a small birch-copse; the whole sky-line was hugged +by the pine-wood; nowhere was there the white gleam of a church, nor +bright stretches of meadow--it was all trees and trees, everywhere the +ragged edge of the tree-tops, and a delicate dim mist, the eternal mist +of the forest, hung over them in the distance. It was not indolent +repose this immobility of life suggested; no--the absence of life, +something dead, even in its grandeur, was what came to me from every +side of the horizon. I remember big white clouds were swimming by, +slowly and very high up, and the hot summer day lay motionless upon the +silent earth. The reddish water of the stream glided without a splash +among the thick reeds: at its bottom could be dimly discerned round +cushions of pointed moss, and its banks sank away in the swampy mud, +and sharply reappeared again in white hillocks of fine crumbling sand. +Close by the little inn ran the trodden highroad. + +On this road, just opposite the steps, stood a cart, loaded with boxes +and hampers. Its owner, a thin pedlar with a hawk nose and mouse-like +eyes, bent and lame, was putting in it his little nag, lame like +himself. He was a gingerbread-seller, who was making his way to the +fair at Karatchev. Suddenly several people appeared on the road, others +straggled after them ... at last, quite a crowd came trudging into +sight; all of them had sticks in their hands and satchels on their +shoulders. From their fatigued yet swinging gait, and from their +sun-burnt faces, one could see they had come from a long distance. They +were leatherworkers and diggers coming back from working for hire. + +An old man of seventy, white all over, seemed to be their leader. From +time to time he turned round and with a quiet voice urged on those who +lagged behind. 'Now, now, now, lads,' he said, 'no--ow.' They all +walked in silence, in a sort of solemn hush. Only one of them, a little +man with a wrathful air, in a sheepskin coat wide open, and a lambswool +cap pulled right over his eyes, on coming up to the gingerbread man, +suddenly inquired: 'How much is the gingerbread, you tomfool?' + +'What sort of gingerbread will it be, worthy sir?' the disconcerted +gingerbread--man responded in a thin, little voice. 'Some are a +farthing--and others cost a halfpenny. Have you a halfpenny in your +purse?' + +'But I guess it will sweeten the belly too much,' retorted the +sheepskin, and he retreated from the cart. + +'Hurry up, lads, hurry up,' I heard the old man's voice: 'it's far yet +to our night's rest.' + +'An uneducated folk,' said the gingerbread-man, with a squint at me, +directly all the crowd had trudged past: 'is such a dainty for the +likes of them?' + +And quickly harnessing his horse, he went down to the river, where a +little wooden ferry could be seen. A peasant in a white felt 'schlik' +(the usual headgear in the forest) came out of a low mud hut to meet +him, and ferried him over to the opposite bank. The little cart, with +one wheel creaking from time to time, crawled along the trodden and +deeply rutted road. + +I fed my horses, and I too was ferried over. After struggling for a +couple of miles through the boggy prairie, I got at last on to a narrow +raised wooden causeway to a clearing in the forest. The cart jolted +unevenly over the round beams of the causeway: I got out and went along +on foot. The horses moved in step snorting and shaking their heads from +the gnats and flies. The forest took us into its bosom. On the +outskirts, nearer to the prairie, grew birches, aspens, limes, maples, +and oaks. Then they met us more rarely, the dense firwood moved down on +us in an unbroken wall. Further on were the red, bare trunks of pines, +and then again a stretch of mixed copse, overgrown with underwood of +hazelnut, mountain ash, and bramble, and stout, vigorous weeds. The +sun's rays threw a brilliant light on the tree-tops, and, filtering +through the branches, here and there reached the ground in pale streaks +and patches. Birds I scarcely heard--they do not like great forests. +Only from time to time there came the doleful, thrice-repeated call of +a hoopoe, and the angry screech of a nuthatch or a jay; a silent, +always solitary bird kept fluttering across the clearing, with a flash +of golden azure from its lovely feathers. At times the trees grew +further apart, ahead of us the light broke in, the cart came out on a +cleared, sandy, open space. Thin rye was growing over it in rows, +noiselessly nodding its pale ears. On one side there was a dark, +dilapidated little chapel, with a slanting cross over a well. An unseen +brook was babbling peaceably with changing, ringing sounds, as though +it were flowing into an empty bottle. And then suddenly the road was +cut in half by a birch-tree recently fallen, and the forest stood +around, so old, lofty, and slumbering, that the air seemed pent in. In +places the clearing lay under water. On both sides stretched a forest +bog, all green and dark, all covered with reeds and tiny alders. Ducks +flew up in pairs--and it was strange to see those water-birds darting +rapidly about among the pines. 'Ga, ga, ga, ga,' their drawn-out call +kept rising unexpectedly. Then a shepherd drove a flock through the +underwood: a brown cow with short, pointed horns broke noisily through +the bushes and stood stockstill at the edge of the clearing, her big, +dark eyes fixed on the dog running before me. A slight breeze brought +the delicate, pungent smell of burnt wood. A white smoke in the +distance crept in eddying rings over the pale, blue forest air, showing +that a peasant was charcoal-burning for a glass-factory or for a +foundry. The further we went on, the darker and stiller it became all +round us. In the pine-forest it is always still; there is only, high +overhead, a sort of prolonged murmur and subdued roar in the tree-tops. +One goes on and on, and this eternal murmur of the forest never ceases, +and the heart gradually begins to sink, and a man longs to come out +quickly into the open, into the daylight; he longs to draw a full +breath again, and is oppressed by the fragrant damp and decay.... + +For about twelve miles we drove on at a walking pace, rarely at a trot. +I wanted to get by daylight to Svyatoe, a hamlet lying in the very +heart of the forest. Twice we met peasants with stripped bark or long +logs on carts. + +'Is it far to Svyatoe?' I asked one of them. + +'No, not far.' + +'How far?' + +'It'll be a little over two miles.' + +Another hour and a half went by. We were still driving on and on. Again +we heard the creak of a laden cart. A peasant was walking beside it. + +'How far, brother, is it still to Svyatoe?' + +'What?' + +'How far to Svyatoe?' + +'Six miles.' + +The sun was already setting when at last I got out of the forest and +saw facing me a little village. About twenty homesteads were grouped +close about an old wooden church, with a single green cupola, and tiny +windows, brilliantly red in the evening glow. This was Svyatoe. I drove +into its outskirts. A herd returning homewards overtook my cart, and +with lowing, grunting and bleating moved by us. Young girls and +bustling peasant women came to meet their beasts. Whiteheaded boys with +merry shrieks went in chase of refractory pigs. The dust swirled along +the street in light clouds, flushed crimson as they rose higher in the +air. + +I stopped at the house of the village elder, a crafty and clever +'forester,' one of those foresters of whom they say he can see two +yards into the ground. Early next morning, accompanied by the village +elder's son, and another peasant called Yegor, I set off in a little +cart with a pair of peasant's horses, to shoot woodcocks and moorhens. +The forest formed a continuous bluish ring all round the sky-line; +there was reckoned to be two hundred acres, no more, of ploughed land +round Svyatoe; but one had to go some five miles to find good places +for game. The elder's son was called Kondrat. He was a flaxen-haired, +rosy-cheeked young fellow, with a good-natured, peaceable expression of +face, obliging and talkative. He drove the horses. Yegor sat by my +side. I want to say a few words about him. + +He was considered the cleverest sportsman in the whole district. Every +step of the ground for fifty miles round he had been over again and +again. He seldom fired at a bird, for lack of powder and shot; but it +was enough for him to decoy a moorhen or to detect the track of a +grouse. Yegor had the character of being a straightforward fellow and +'no talker.' He did not care for talking and never exaggerated the +number of birds he had taken--a trait rare in a sportsman. He was of +medium height, thin, and had a pale, long face, and big, honest eyes. +All his features, especially his straight and never-moving lips, were +expressive of untroubled serenity. He gave a slight, as it were inward +smile, whenever he uttered a word--very sweet was that quiet smile. He +never drank spirits, and worked industriously; but nothing prospered +with him. His wife was always ailing, his children didn't live; he got +poorer and poorer and could never pick up again. And there is no +denying that a passion for the chase is no good for a peasant, and any +one who 'plays with a gun' is sure to be a poor manager of his land. +Either from constantly being in the forest, face to face with the stern +and melancholy scenery of that inhuman country, or from the peculiar +cast and formation of his character, there was noticeable in every +action of Yegor's a sort of modest dignity and stateliness--stateliness +it was, and not melancholy--the stateliness of a majestic stag. He had +in his time killed seven bears, lying in wait for them in the oats. The +last he had only succeeded in killing on the fourth night of his +ambush; the bear persisted in not turning sideways to him, and he had +only one bullet. Yegor had killed him the day before my arrival. When +Kondrat brought me to him, I found him in his back yard; squatting on +his heels before the huge beast, he was cutting the fat out with a +short, blunt knife. + +'What a fine fellow you've knocked over there!' I observed. + +Yegor raised his head and looked first at me, then at the dog, who had +come with me. + +'If it's shooting you've come after, sir, there are woodcocks at +Moshnoy--three coveys, and five of moorhens,' he observed, and set to +work again. + +With Yegor and with Kondrat I went out the next day in search of sport. +We drove rapidly over the open ground surrounding Svyatoe, but when we +got into the forest we crawled along at a walking pace once more. + +'Look, there's a wood-pigeon,' said Kondrat suddenly, turning to me: +'better knock it over!' + +Yegor looked in the direction Kondrat pointed, but said nothing. The +wood-pigeon was over a hundred paces from us, and one can't kill it at +forty paces; there is such strength in its feathers. A few more remarks +were made by the conversational Kondrat; but the forest hush had its +influence even on him; he became silent. Only rarely exchanging a word +or two, looking straight ahead, and listening to the puffing and +snorting of the horses, we got at last to 'Moshnoy.' That is the name +given to the older pine-forest, overgrown in places by fir saplings. We +got out; Kondrat led the cart into the bushes, so that the gnats should +not bite the horses. Yegor examined the cock of his gun and crossed +himself: he never began anything without the sign of the cross. + +The forest into which we had come was exceedingly old. I don't know +whether the Tartars had wandered over it, but Russian thieves or +Lithuanians, in disturbed times, might certainly have hidden in its +recesses. At a respectful distance from one another stood the mighty +pines with their slightly curved, massive, pale-yellow trunks. Between +them stood in single file others, rather younger. The ground was +covered with greenish moss, sprinkled all over with dead pine-needles; +blueberries grew in dense bushes; the strong perfume of the berries, +like the smell of musk, oppressed the breathing. The sun could not +pierce through the high network of the pine-branches; but it was +stiflingly hot in the forest all the same, and not dark; like big drops +of sweat the heavy, transparent resin stood out and slowly trickled +down the coarse bark of the trees. The still air, with no light or +shade in it, stung the face. Everything was silent; even our footsteps +were not audible; we walked on the moss as on a carpet. Yegor in +particular moved as silently as a shadow; even the brushwood did not +crackle under his feet. He walked without haste, from time to time +blowing a shrill note on a whistle; a woodcock soon answered back, and +before my eyes darted into a thick fir-tree. But in vain Yegor pointed +him out to me; however much I strained my eyes, I could not make him +out. Yegor had to take a shot at him. We came upon two coveys of +moorhens also. The cautious birds rose at a distance with an abrupt, +heavy sound. We succeeded, however, in killing three young ones. + +At one _meidan_ [Footnote 1: _Meidan_ is the name given to a place +where tar has been made.--Author's Note.] Yegor suddenly stopped and +called me up. + +'A bear has been trying to get water,' he observed, pointing to a +broad, fresh scratch, made in the very middle of a hole covered with +fine moss. + +'Is that the print of his paw?' I inquired. + +'Yes; but the water has dried up. That's the track of him too on that +pine; he has been climbing after honey. He has cut into it with his +claws as if with a knife.' + +We went on making our way into the inner-most depths of the forest. +Yegor only rarely looked upwards, and walked on serenely and +confidently. I saw a high, round rampart, enclosed by a half-choked-up +ditch. + +'What's that? a _meidan_ too?' I inquired. + +'No,' answered Yegor; 'here's where the thieves' town stood.' + +'Long ago?' + +'Long ago; our grandfathers remember it. Here they buried their +treasure. And they took a mighty oath: on human blood.' + +We went on another mile and a half; I began to feel thirsty. + +'Sit down a little while,' said Yegor: 'I will go for water; there is a +well not far from here.' + +He went away; I was left alone. + +I sat down on a felled stump, leaned my elbows on my knees, and after a +long stillness, raised my head and looked around me. Oh, how still and +sullenly gloomy was everything around me--no, not gloomy even, but +dumb, cold, and menacing at the same time! My heart sank. At that +instant, at that spot, I had a sense of death breathing upon me, I felt +I almost touched its perpetual closeness. If only one sound had +vibrated, one momentary rustle had arisen, in the engulfing stillness +of the pine-forest that hemmed me in on all sides! I let my head sink +again, almost in terror; it was as though I had looked in, where no man +ought to look.... I put my hand over my eyes--and all at once, as +though at some mysterious bidding, I began to remember all my life.... + +There passed in a flash before me my childhood, noisy and peaceful, +quarrelsome and good-hearted, with hurried joys and swift sorrows; then +my youth rose up, vague, queer, self-conscious, with all its mistakes +and beginnings, with disconnected work, and agitated indolence.... +There came back, too, to my memory the comrades who shared those early +aspirations ... then like lightning in the night there came the gleam +of a few bright memories ... then the shadows began to grow and bear +down on me, it was darker and darker about me, more dully and quietly +the monotonous years ran by--and like a stone, dejection sank upon my +heart. I sat without stirring and gazed, gazed with effort and +perplexity, as though I saw all my life before me, as though scales had +fallen from my eyes. Oh, what have I done! my lips involuntarily +murmured in a bitter whisper. O life, life, where, how have you gone +without a trace? How have you slipped through my clenched fingers? Have +you deceived me, or was it that I knew not how to make use of your +gifts? Is it possible? is this fragment, this poor handful of dusty +ashes, all that is left of you? Is this cold, stagnant, unnecessary +something--I, the I of old days? How? The soul was athirst for +happiness so perfect, she rejected with such scorn all that was small, +all that was insufficient, she waited: soon happiness would burst on +her in a torrent--and has not one drop moistened the parched lips? Oh, +my golden strings, you that once so delicately, so sweetly quivered,--I +have never, it seems, heard your music ... you had but just +sounded--when you broke. Or, perhaps, happiness, the true happiness of +all my life, passed close by me, smiled a resplendent smile upon +me--and I failed to recognise its divine countenance. Or did it really +visit me, sit at my bedside, and is forgotten by me, like a dream? Like +a dream, I repeated disconsolately. Elusive images flitted over my +soul, awakening in it something between pity and bewilderment ... you +too, I thought, dear, familiar, lost faces, you, thronging about me in +this deadly solitude, why are you so profoundly and mournfully silent? +From what abyss have you arisen? How am I to interpret your enigmatic +glances? Are you greeting me, or bidding me farewell? Oh, can it be +there is no hope, no turning back? Why are these heavy, belated drops +trickling from my eyes? O heart, why, to what end, grieve more? try to +forget if you would have peace, harden yourself to the meek acceptance +of the last parting, to the bitter words 'good-bye' and 'for ever.' Do +not look back, do not remember, do not strive to reach where it is +light, where youth laughs, where hope is wreathed with the flowers of +spring, where dovelike delight soars on azure wings, where love, like +dew in the sunrise, flashes with tears of ecstasy; look not where is +bliss, and faith and power--that is not our place! + +'Here is water for you,' I heard Yegor's musical voice behind me: +'drink, with God's blessing.' + +I could not help starting; this living speech shook me, sent a +delightful tremor all through me. It was as though I had fallen into +unknown, dark depths, where all was hushed about me, and nothing could +be heard but the soft, persistent moan of some unending grief.... I was +faint and could not struggle, and all at once there floated down to me +a friendly voice, and some mighty hand with one pull drew me up into +the light of day. I looked round, and with unutterable consolation saw +the serene and honest face of my guide. He stood easily and gracefully +before me, and with his habitual smile held out a wet flask full of +clear liquid.... I got up. + +'Let's go on; lead the way,' I said eagerly. We set off and wandered a +long while, till evening. Directly the noonday heat was over, it became +cold and dark so rapidly in the forest that one felt no desire to +remain in it. + +'Away, restless mortals,' it seemed whispering sullenly from each pine. +We came out, but it was some time before we could find Kondrat. We +shouted, called to him, but he did not answer. All of a sudden, in the +profound stillness of the air, we heard his 'wo, wo,' sound distinctly +in a ravine close to us.... The wind, which had suddenly sprung up, and +as suddenly dropped again, had prevented him from hearing our calls. +Only on the trees which stood some distance apart were traces of its +onslaught to be seen; many of the leaves were blown inside out, and +remained so, giving a variegated look to the motionless foliage. We got +into the cart, and drove home. I sat, swaying to and fro, and slowly +breathing in the damp, rather keen air; and all my recent reveries and +regrets were drowned in the one sensation of drowsiness and fatigue, in +the one desire to get back as soon as possible to the shelter of a warm +house, to have a good drink of tea with cream, to nestle into the soft, +yielding hay, and to sleep, to sleep, to sleep.... + + + + +SECOND DAY + + +The next morning the three of us set off to the 'Charred Wood.' Ten +years before, several thousand acres in the 'Forest' had been burnt +down, and had not up to that time grown again; here and there, young +firs and pines were shooting up, but for the most part there was +nothing but moss and ashes. In this 'Charred Wood,' which is reckoned +to be about nine miles from Svyatoe, there are all sorts of berries +growing in great profusion, and it is a favourite haunt of grouse, who +are very fond of strawberries and bilberries. + +We were driving along in silence, when suddenly Kondrat raised his +head. + +'Ah!' he exclaimed: 'why, that's never Efrem standing yonder! 'Morning +to you, Alexandritch,' he added, raising his voice, and lifting his +cap. + +A short peasant in a short, black smock, with a cord round the waist, +came out from behind a tree, and approached the cart. + +'Why, have they let you off?' inquired Kondrat. + +'I should think so!' replied the peasant, and he grinned. 'You don't +catch them keeping the likes of me.' + +'And what did Piotr Filippitch say to it?' + +'Filippov, is it? Oh, he's all right.' + +'You don't say so! Why, I thought, Alexandritch--well, brother, thought +I, now you 're the goose that must lie down in the frying-pan!' + +'On account of Piotr Filippov, hey? Get along! We've seen plenty like +him. He tries to pass for a wolf, and then slinks off like a +dog.--Going shooting your honour, hey?' the peasant suddenly inquired, +turning his little, screwed-up eyes rapidly upon me, and at once +dropping them again. + +'Yes.' + +'And whereabouts, now?' + +'To the Charred Wood,' said Kondrat. + +'You 're going to the Charred Wood? mind you don't get into the fire.' + +'Eh?' + +'I've seen a lot of woodcocks,' the peasant went on, seeming all the +while to be laughing, and making Kondrat no answer. 'But you'll never +get there; as the crow flies it'll be fifteen miles. Why, even Yegor +here--not a doubt but he's as at home in the forest as in his own +back-yard, but even he won't make his way there. Hullo, Yegor, you +honest penny halfpenny soul!' he shouted suddenly. + +'Good morning, Efrem,' Yegor responded deliberately. + +I looked with curiosity at this Efrem. It was long since I had seen +such a queer face. He had a long, sharp nose, thick lips, and a scanty +beard. His little blue eyes positively danced, like little imps. He +stood in a free-and-easy pose, his arms akimbo, and did not touch his +cap. + +'Going home for a visit, eh?' Kondrat questioned him. + +'Go on! on a visit! It's not the weather for that, my lad; it's set +fair. It's all open and free, my dear; one may lie on the stove till +winter time, not a dog will stir. When I was in the town, the clerk +said: "Give us up," says he, "'Lexandritch; you just get out of the +district, we'll let you have a passport, first-class one ..." but +there, I'd pity on you Svyatoe fellows: you'd never get another thief +like me.' + +Kondrat laughed. + +'You will have your joke, uncle, you will, upon my word,' he said, and +he shook the reins. The horses started off. + +'Wo,' said Efrem. The horses stopped. Kondrat did not like this prank. + +'Enough of your nonsense, Alexandritch,' he observed in an undertone: +'don't you see we're out with a gentleman? You mind; he'll be angry.' + +'Get on with you, sea-drake! What should he be angry about? He's a +good-natured gentleman. You see, he'll give me something to drink. Hey, +master, give a poor scoundrel a dram! Won't I drink it!' he added, +shrugging his shoulder up to his ear, and grating his teeth. + +I could not help smiling, gave him a copper, and told Kondrat to drive +on. + +'Much obliged, your honour,' Efrem shouted after us in soldierly +fashion. 'And you'll know, Kondrat, for the future from whom to learn +manners. Faint heart never wins; 'tis boldness gains the day. When you +come back, come to my place, d'ye hear? There'll be drinking going on +three days at home; there'll be some necks broken, I can tell you; my +wife's a devil of a woman; our yard's on the side of a precipice.... +Ay, magpie, have a good time till your tail gets pinched.' And with a +sharp whistle, Efrem plunged into the bushes. + +'What sort of man is he?' I questioned Kondrat, who, sitting in the +front, kept shaking his head, as though deliberating with himself. + +'That fellow?' replied Kondrat, and he looked down. 'That fellow?' he +repeated. + +'Yes. Is he of your village?' + +'Yes, he's a Svyatoe man. He's a fellow.... You wouldn't find the like +of him, if you hunted for a hundred miles round. A thief and +cheat--good Lord, yes! Another man's property simply, as it were, takes +his eye. You may bury a thing underground, and you won't hide it from +him; and as to money, you might sit on it, and he'd get it from under +you without your noticing it.' + +'What a bold fellow he is!' + +'Bold? Yes, he's not afraid of any one. But just look at him; he's a +beast by his physiognomy; you can see by his nose.' (Kondrat often used +to drive with gentlemen, and had been in the chief town of the +province, and so liked on occasion to show off his attainments.) +'There's positively no doing anything with him. How many times they've +taken him off to put him in the prison!--it's simply trouble thrown +away. They start tying him up, and he'll say, "Come, why don't you +fasten that leg? fasten that one too, and a little tighter: I'll have a +little sleep meanwhile; and I shall get home before your escort." And +lo and behold! there he is back again, yes, back again, upon my soul! +Well as we all about here know the forest, being used to it from +childhood, we're no match for him there. Last summer he came at night +straight across from Altuhin to Svyatoe, and no one had ever been known +to walk it--it'll be over thirty miles. And he steals honey too; no one +can beat him at that; and the bees don't sting him. There's not a hive +he hasn't plundered.' + +'I expect he doesn't spare the wild bees either?' + +'Well, no, I won't lay a false charge against him. That sin's never +been observed in him. The wild bees' nest is a holy thing with us. A +hive is shut in by fences; there's a watch kept; if you get the +honey--it's your luck; but the wild bee is a thing of God's, not +guarded; only the bear touches it.' + +'Because he is a bear,' remarked Yegor. + +'Is he married?' + +'To be sure. And he has a son. And won't he be a thief too, the son! +He's taken after his father. And he's training him now too. The other +day he took a pot with some old coppers in it, stolen somewhere, I've +no doubt, went and buried it in a clearing in the forest, and went home +and sent his son to the clearing. "Till you find the pot," says he, "I +won't give you anything to eat, or let you into the place." The son +stayed the whole day in the forest, and spent the night there, but he +found the pot. Yes, he's a smart chap, that Efrem. When he's at home, +he's a civil fellow, presses every one; you may eat and drink as you +will, and there'll be dancing got up at his place and merry-making of +all sorts. And when he comes to the meeting--we have a parish meeting, +you know, in our village--well, no one talks better sense than he does; +he'll come up behind, listen, say a word as if he chopped it off, and +away again; and a weighty word it'll be, too. But when he's about in +the forest, ah! that means trouble! We've to look out for mischief. +Though, I must say, he doesn't touch his own people unless he's in a +fix. If he meets a Svyatoe man: "Go along with you, brother," he'll +shout, a long way away; "the forest devil's upon me: I shall kill +you!"--it's a bad business!' + +'What can you all be thinking about? A whole district can't get even +with one man?' + +'Well, that's just how it is, any way.' + +'Is he a sorcerer, then?' + +'Who can say! Here, some days ago, he crept round at night to the +deacon's near, after the honey, and the deacon was watching the hive +himself. Well, he caught him, and in the dark he gave him a good +hiding. When he'd done, Efrem, he says to him: "But d'you know who it +is you've been beating?" The deacon, when he knew him by his voice, was +fairly dumfoundered. + +"Well, my good friend," says Efrem, "you won't get off so easily for +this." The deacon fell down at his feet. "Take," says he, "what you +please." "No," says he. "I'll take it from you at my own time and as I +choose." And what do you think? Since that day the deacon's as though +he'd been scalded; he wanders about like a ghost. "It's taken," says +he, "all the heart out of me; it was a dreadful, powerful saying, to be +sure, the brigand fastened upon me." That's how it is with him, with +the deacon.' + +'That deacon must be a fool,' I observed. + +'A fool? Well, but what do you say to this? There was once an order +issued to seize this fellow, Efrem. We had a police commissary then, a +sharp man. And so a dozen chaps went off into the forest to take Efrem. +They look, and there he is coming to meet them.... One of them shouts, +"Here he is, hold him, tie him!" But Efrem stepped into the forest and +cut himself a branch, two fingers' thickness, like this, and then out +he skips into the road again, looking so frightful, so terrible, and +gives the command like a general at a review: "On your knees!" All of +them fairly fell down. "But who," says he, "shouted hold him, tie him? +You, Seryoga?" The fellow simply jumped up and ran ... and Efrem after +him, and kept swinging his branch at his heels.... For nearly a mile he +stroked him down. And afterwards he never ceased to regret: "Ah," he'd +say, "it is annoying I didn't lay him up for the confession." For it +was just before St. Philip's day. Well, they changed the police +commissary soon after, but it all ended the same way.' + +'Why did they all give in to him?' + +'Why! well, it is so....' + +'He has frightened you all, and now he does as he likes with you.' + +'Frightened, yes.... He'd frighten any one. And he's a wonderful hand +at contrivances, my goodness, yes! I once came upon him in the forest; +there was a heavy rain falling; I was for edging away.... But he looked +at me, and beckoned to me with his hand like this. "Come along," says +he, "Kondrat, don't be afraid. Let me show you how to live in the +forest, and to keep dry in the rain." I went up to him, and he was +sitting under a fir-tree, and he'd made a fire of damp twigs: the smoke +hung about in the fir-tree, and kept the rain from dripping through. I +was astonished at him then. And I'll tell you what he contrived one +time' (and Kondrat laughed); 'he really did do a funny thing. They'd +been thrashing the oats at the thrashing-floor, and they hadn't +finished; they hadn't time to rake up the last heap; well, they 'd set +two watch-men by it for the night, and they weren't the boldest-hearted +of the chaps either. Well, they were sitting and gossiping, and Efrem +takes and stuffs his shirt-sleeves full of straw, ties up the +wrist-bands, and puts the shirt up over his head. And so he steals up +in that shape to the thrashing-floor, and just pops out from behind the +corner and gives them a peep of his horns. One chap says to the other: +"Do you see?" "Yes," says the other, and didn't he give a screech all +of a sudden ... and then the fences creaked and nothing more was seen +of them. Efrem shovelled up the oats into a bag and dragged it off +home. He told the story himself afterwards. He put them to shame, he +did, the chaps.... He did really!' + +Kondrat laughed again. And Yegor smiled. 'So the fences creaked and +that was all?' he commented. 'There was nothing more seen of them,' +Kondrat assented. 'They were simply gone in a flash.' + +We were all silent again. Suddenly Kondrat started and sat up. + +'Eh, mercy upon us!' he ejaculated; 'surely it's never a fire!' + +'Where, where?' we asked. + +'Yonder, see, in front, where we 're going.... A fire it is! Efrem +there, Efrem--why, he foretold it! If it's not his doing, the damned +fellow!...' + +I glanced in the direction Kondrat was pointing. Two or three miles +ahead of us, behind a green strip of low fir saplings, there really was +a thick column of dark blue smoke slowly rising from the ground, +gradually twisting and coiling into a cap-shaped cloud; to the right +and left of it could be seen others, smaller and whiter. + +A peasant, all red and perspiring, in nothing but his shirt, with his +hair hanging dishevelled about his scared face, galloped straight +towards us, and with difficulty stopped his hastily bridled horse. + +'Mates,' he inquired breathlessly, 'haven't you seen the foresters?' + +'No, we haven't. What is it? is the forest on fire?' + +'Yes. We must get the people together, or else if it gets to Trosnoe ...' + +The peasant tugged with his elbows, pounded with his heels on the +horse's sides.... It galloped off. + +Kondrat, too, whipped up his pair. We drove straight towards the smoke, +which was spreading more and more widely; in places it suddenly grew +black and rose up high. The nearer we moved to it, the more indefinite +became its outlines; soon all the air was clouded over, there was a +strong smell of burning, and here and there between the trees, with a +strange, weird quivering in the sunshine, gleamed the first pale red +tongues of flame. + +'Well, thank God,' observed Kondrat, 'it seems it's an overground +fire.' + +'What's that?' + +'Overground? One that runs along over the earth. With an underground +fire, now, it's a difficult job to deal. What's one to do, when the +earth's on fire for a whole yard's depth? There's only one means of +safety--digging ditches,--and do you suppose that's easy? But an +overground fire's nothing. It only scorches the grasses and burns the +dry leaves! The forest will be all the better for it. Ouf, though, +mercy on us, look how it flares!' + +We drove almost up to the edge of the fire. I got down and went to meet +it. It was neither dangerous nor difficult. The fire was running over +the scanty pine-forest against the wind; it moved in an uneven line, +or, to speak more accurately, in a dense jagged wall of curved tongues. +The smoke was carried away by the wind. Kondrat had told the truth; it +really was an overground fire, which only scorched the grass and passed +on without finishing its work, leaving behind it a black and smoking, +but not even smouldering, track. At times, it is true, when the fire +came upon a hole filled with dry wood and twigs, it suddenly and with a +kind of peculiar, rather vindictive roar, rose up in long, quivering +points; but it soon sank down again and ran on as before, with a slight +hiss and crackle. I even noticed, more than once, an oak-bush, with dry +hanging leaves, hemmed in all round and yet untouched, except for a +slight singeing at its base. I must own I could not understand why the +dry leaves were not burned. Kondrat explained to me that it was owing +to the fact that the fire was overground, 'that's to say, not angry.' +'But it's fire all the same,' I protested. 'Overground fire,' repeated +Kondrat. However, overground as it was, the fire, none the less, +produced its effect: hares raced up and down with a sort of disorder, +running back with no sort of necessity into the neighbourhood of the +fire; birds fell down in the smoke and whirled round and round; horses +looked back and neighed, the forest itself fairly hummed--and man felt +discomfort from the heat suddenly beating into his face.... + +'What are we looking at?' said Yegor suddenly, behind my back. 'Let's +go on.' + +'But where are we to go?' asked Kondrat. + +'Take the left, over the dry bog; we shall get through.' + +We turned to the left, and got through, though it was sometimes +difficult for both the horses and the cart. + +The whole day we wandered over the Charred Wood. At evening--the sunset +had not yet begun to redden in the sky, but the shadows from the trees +already lay long and motionless, and in the grass one could feel that +chill that comes before the dew--I lay down by the roadside near the +cart in which Kondrat, without haste, was harnessing the horses after +their feed, and I recalled my cheerless reveries of the day before. +Everything around was as still as the previous evening, but there was +not the forest, stifling and weighing down the spirit. On the dry moss, +on the crimson grasses, on the soft dust of the road, on the slender +stems and pure little leaves of the young birch-trees, lay the clear +soft light of the no longer scorching, sinking sun. Everything was +resting, plunged in soothing coolness; nothing was yet asleep, but +everything was getting ready for the restoring slumber of evening and +night-time. Everything seemed to be saying to man: 'Rest, brother of +ours; breathe lightly, and grieve not, thou too, at the sleep close +before thee.' I raised my head and saw at the very end of a delicate +twig one of those large flies with emerald head, long body, and four +transparent wings, which the fanciful French call 'maidens,' while our +guileless people has named them 'bucket-yokes.' For a long while, more +than an hour, I did not take my eyes off her. Soaked through and +through with sunshine, she did not stir, only from time to time turning +her head from side to side and shaking her lifted wings ... that was +all. Looking at her, it suddenly seemed to me that I understood the +life of nature, understood its clear and unmistakable though, to many, +still mysterious significance. A subdued, quiet animation, an +unhasting, restrained use of sensations and powers, an equilibrium of +health in each separate creature--there is her very basis, her +unvarying law, that is what she stands upon and holds to. Everything +that goes beyond this level, above or below--it makes no +difference--she flings away as worthless. Many insects die as soon as +they know the joys of love, which destroy the equilibrium. The sick +beast plunges into the thicket and expires there alone: he seems to +feel that he no longer has the right to look upon the sun that is +common to all, nor to breathe the open air; he has not the right to +live;--and the man who from his own fault or from the fault of others +is faring ill in the world--ought, at least, to know how to keep +silence. + +'Well, Yegor!' cried Kondrat all at once. He had already settled +himself on the box of the cart and was shaking and playing with the +reins. 'Come, sit down. What are you so thoughtful about? Still about +the cow?' + +'About the cow? What cow?' I repeated, and looked at Yegor: calm and +stately as ever, he certainly did seem thoughtful, and was gazing away +into the distance towards the fields already beginning to get dark. + +'Don't you know?' answered Kondrat; 'his last cow died last night. He +has no luck.--What are you going to do?'.... + +Yegor sat down on the box, without speaking, and we drove off. 'That +man knows how to bear in silence,' I thought. + + + + +YAKOV PASINKOV + +I + + +It happened in Petersburg, in the winter, on the first day of the +carnival. I had been invited to dinner by one of my schoolfellows, who +enjoyed in his youth the reputation of being as modest as a maiden, and +turned out in the sequel a person by no means over rigid in his +conduct. He is dead now, like most of my schoolfellows. There were to +be present at the dinner, besides me, Konstantin Alexandrovitch Asanov, +and a literary celebrity of those days. The literary celebrity kept us +waiting for him, and finally sent a note that he was not coming, and in +place of him there turned up a little light-haired gentleman, one of +the everlasting uninvited guests with whom Petersburg abounds. + +The dinner lasted a long while; our host did not spare the wine, and by +degrees our heads were affected. Everything that each of us kept hidden +in his heart--and who is there that has not something hidden in his +heart?--came to the surface. Our host's face suddenly lost its modest +and reserved expression; his eyes shone with a brazen-faced impudence, +and a vulgar grin curved his lips; the light-haired gentleman laughed +in a feeble way, with a senseless crow; but Asanov surprised me more +than any one. The man had always been conspicuous for his sense of +propriety, but now he began by suddenly rubbing his hand over his +forehead, giving himself airs, boasting of his connections, and +continually alluding to a certain uncle of his, a very important +personage.... I positively should not have known him; he was +unmistakably jeering at us ... he all but avowed his contempt for our +society. Asanov's insolence began to exasperate me. + +'Listen,' I said to him; 'if we are such poor creatures to your +thinking, you'd better go and see your illustrious uncle. But possibly +he's not at home to you.' + +Asanov made me no reply, and went on passing his hand across his +forehead. + +'What a set of people!' he said again; 'they've never been in any +decent society, never been acquainted with a single decent woman, while +I have here,' he cried, hurriedly pulling a pocket-book out of his +side-pocket and tapping it with his hand, 'a whole pack of letters from +a girl whom you wouldn't find the equal of in the whole world.' + +Our host and the light-haired gentleman paid no attention to Asanov's +last words; they were holding each other by their buttons, and both +relating something; but I pricked up my ears. + +'Oh, you 're bragging, Mr. nephew of an illustrious personage,' I said, +going up to Asanov; 'you haven't any letters at all.' + +'Do you think so?' he retorted, and he looked down loftily at me; +'what's this, then?' He opened the pocket-book, and showed me about a +dozen letters addressed to him.... A familiar handwriting, I +fancied.... I feel the flush of shame mounting to my cheeks ... my +self-love is suffering horribly.... No one likes to own to a mean +action.... But there is nothing for it: when I began my story, I knew I +should have to blush to my ears in the course of it. And so, I am bound +to harden my heart and confess that.... + +Well, this was what passed: I took advantage of the intoxicated +condition of Asanov, who had carelessly dropped the letters on the +champagne-stained tablecloth (my own head was dizzy enough too), and +hurriedly ran my eyes over one of the letters.... + +My heart stood still.... Alas! I was myself in love with the girl who +had written to Asanov, and I could have no doubt now that she loved +him. The whole letter, which was in French, expressed tenderness and +devotion.... + +'Mon cher ami Constantin!' so it began ... and it ended with the words: +'be careful as before, and I will be yours or no one's.' + +Stunned as by a thunderbolt, I sat for a few instants motionless; at +last I regained my self-possession, jumped up, and rushed out of the +room. + +A quarter of an hour later I was back at home in my own lodgings. + + + * * * * * + + +The family of the Zlotnitskys was one of the first whose acquaintance I +made on coming to Petersburg from Moscow. It consisted of a father and +mother, two daughters, and a son. The father, a man already grey, but +still vigorous, who had been in the army, held a fairly important +position, spent the morning in a government office, went to sleep after +dinner, and in the evening played cards at his club.... He was seldom +at home, spoke little and unwillingly, looked at one from under his +eyebrows with an expression half surly, half indifferent, and read +nothing except books of travels and geography. Sometimes he was unwell, +and then he would shut himself up in his own room, and paint little +pictures, or tease the old grey parrot, Popka. His wife, a sickly, +consumptive woman, with hollow black eyes and a sharp nose, did not +leave her sofa for days together, and was always embroidering +cushion-covers in canvas. As far as I could observe, she was rather +afraid of her husband, as though she had somehow wronged him at some +time or other. The elder daughter, Varvara, a plump, rosy, fair-haired +girl of eighteen, was always sitting at the window, watching the people +that passed by. The son, who was being educated in a government school, +was only seen at home on Sundays, and he, too, did not care to waste +his words. Even the younger daughter, Sophia, the girl with whom I was +in love, was of a silent disposition. In the Zlotnitskys' house there +reigned a perpetual stillness; it was only broken by the piercing +screams of Popka, but visitors soon got used to these, and were +conscious again of the burden and oppression of the eternal stillness. +Visitors, however, seldom looked in upon the Zlotnitskys; their house +was a dull one. The very furniture, the red paper with yellow patterns +in the drawing-room, the numerous rush-bottomed chairs in the +dining-room, the faded wool-work cushions, embroidered with figures of +girls and dogs, on the sofa, the branching lamps, and the +gloomy-looking portraits on the walls--everything inspired an +involuntary melancholy, about everything there clung a sense of chill +and flatness. On my arrival in Petersburg, I had thought it my duty to +call on the Zlotnitskys. They were relations of my mother's. I managed +with difficulty to sit out an hour with them, and it was a long while +before I went there again. But by degrees I took to going oftener and +oftener. I was drawn there by Sophia, whom I had not cared for at +first, and with whom I finally fell in love. + +She was a slender, almost thin, girl of medium height, with a pale +face, thick black hair, and big brown eyes, always half closed. Her +severe and well-defined features, especially her tightly shut lips, +showed determination and strength of will. At home they knew her to be +a girl with a will of her own.... + +'She's like her eldest sister, like Katerina,' Madame Zlotnitsky said +one day, as she sat alone with me (in her husband's presence she did +not dare to mention the said Katerina). 'You don't know her; she's in +the Caucasus, married. At thirteen, only fancy, she fell in love with +her husband, and announced to us at the time that she would never marry +any one else. We did everything we could--nothing was of any use. She +waited till she was three-and-twenty, and braved her father's anger, +and so married her idol. There is no saying what Sonitchka might not +do! The Lord preserve her from such stubbornness! But I am afraid for +her; she's only sixteen now, and there's no turning her....' + +Mr. Zlotnitsky came in, and his wife was instantly silent. + +What had captivated me in Sophia was not her strength of will--no; but +with all her dryness, her lack of vivacity and imagination, she had a +special charm of her own, the charm of straightforwardness, genuine +sincerity, and purity of heart. I respected her as much as I loved +her.... It seemed to me that she too looked with friendly eyes on me; +to have my illusions as to her feeling for me shattered, and her love +for another man proved conclusively, was a blow to me. + +The unlooked-for discovery I had made astonished me the more as Asanov +was not often at the Zlotnitskys' house, much less so than I, and had +shown no marked preference for Sonitchka. He was a handsome, dark +fellow, with expressive but rather heavy features, with brilliant, +prominent eyes, with a large white forehead, and full red lips under +fine moustaches. He was very discreet, but severe in his behaviour, +confident in his criticisms and utterances, and dignified in his +silence. It was obvious that he thought a great deal of himself. Asanov +rarely laughed, and then with closed teeth, and he never danced. He was +rather loosely and clumsily built. He had at one time served in the +--th regiment, and was spoken of as a capable officer. + +'A strange thing!' I ruminated, lying on the sofa; 'how was it I +noticed nothing?' ... 'Be careful as before': those words in Sophia's +letter suddenly recurred to my memory. 'Ah!' I thought: 'that's it! +What a sly little hussy! And I thought her open and sincere.... Wait a +bit, that's all; I'll let you know....' + +But at this point, if I can trust my memory, I began weeping bitterly, +and could not get to sleep all night. + + + * * * * * + + +Next day at two o'clock I set off to the Zlotnitskys'. The father was +not at home, and his wife was not sitting in her usual place; after the +pancake festival of the preceding day, she had a headache, and had gone +to lie down in her bedroom. Varvara was standing with her shoulder +against the window, looking into the street; Sophia was walking up and +down the room with her arms folded across her bosom; Popka was +shrieking. + +'Ah! how do you do?' said Varvara lazily, directly I came into the +room, and she added at once in an undertone, 'There goes a peasant with +a tray on his head.' ... (She had the habit of keeping up a running +commentary on the passers-by to herself.) + +'How do you do?' I responded; 'how do you do, Sophia Nikolaevna? Where +is Tatiana Vassilievna?' + +'She has gone to lie down,' answered Sophia, still pacing the room. + +'We had pancakes,' observed Varvara, without turning round. 'Why didn't +you come? ... Where can that clerk be going?' 'Oh, I hadn't time.' +('Present arms!' the parrot screeched shrilly.) 'How Popka is shrieking +to-day!' + +'He always does shriek like that,' observed Sophia. + +We were all silent for a time. + +'He has gone in at the gate,' said Varvara, and she suddenly got up on +the window-sill and opened the window. + +'What are you about?' asked Sophia. + +'There's a beggar,' responded Varvara. She bent down, picked up a +five-copeck piece from the window; the remains of a fumigating pastille +still stood in a grey heap of ashes on the copper coin, as she flung it +into the street; then she slammed the window to and jumped heavily down +to the floor.... + +'I had a very pleasant time yesterday,' I began, seating myself in an +arm-chair. 'I dined with a friend of mine; Konstantin Alexandritch was +there.... (I looked at Sophia; not an eyebrow quivered on her face.) +'And I must own,' I continued, 'we'd a good deal of wine; we emptied +eight bottles between the four of us.' + +'Really!' Sophia articulated serenely, and she shook her head. + +'Yes,' I went on, slightly irritated at her composure: 'and do you know +what, Sophia Nikolaevna, it's a true saying, it seems, that in wine is +truth.' + +'How so?' + +'Konstantin Alexandritch made us laugh. Only fancy, he began all at +once passing his hand over his forehead like this, and saying: "I'm a +fine fellow! I've an uncle a celebrated man!"....' + +'Ha, ha!' came Varvara's short, abrupt laugh. + +....'Popka! Popka! Popka!' the parrot dinned back at her. + +Sophia stood still in front of me, and looked me straight in the face. + +'And you, what did you say?' she asked; 'don't you remember?' + +I could not help blushing. + +'I don't remember! I expect I was pretty absurd too. It certainly is +dangerous to drink,' I added with significant emphasis; 'one begins +chattering at once, and one's apt to say what no one ought to know. +One's sure to be sorry for it afterwards, but then it's too late.' + +'Why, did you let out some secret?' asked Sophia. + +'I am not referring to myself.' + +Sophia turned away, and began walking up and down the room again. I +stared at her, raging inwardly. 'Upon my word,' I thought, 'she is a +child, a baby, and how she has herself in hand! She's made of stone, +simply. But wait a bit....' + +'Sophia Nikolaevna ...' I said aloud. + +Sophia stopped. + +'What is it?' + +'Won't you play me something on the piano? By the way, I've something I +want to say to you,' I added, dropping my voice. + +Sophia, without saying a word, walked into the other room; I followed +her. She came to a standstill at the piano. + +'What am I to play you?' she inquired. + +'What you like ... one of Chopin's nocturnes.' + +Sophia began the nocturne. She played rather badly, but with feeling. +Her sister played nothing but polkas and waltzes, and even that very +seldom. She would go sometimes with her indolent step to the piano, sit +down, let her coat slip from her shoulders down to her elbows (I never +saw her without a coat), begin playing a polka very loud, and without +finishing it, begin another, then she would suddenly heave a sigh, get +up, and go back again to the window. A queer creature was that Varvara! + +I sat down near Sophia. + +'Sophia Nikolaevna,' I began, watching her intently from one side. 'I +ought to tell you a piece of news, news disagreeable to me.' + +'News? what is it?' + +'I'll tell you.... Up till now I have been mistaken in you, completely +mistaken.' + +'How was that?' she rejoined, going on playing, and keeping her eyes +fixed on her fingers. + +'I imagined you to be open; I imagined that you were incapable of +hypocrisy, of hiding your feelings, deceiving....' + +Sophia bent her face closer over the music. + +'I don't understand you.' + +'And what's more,' I went on; 'I could never have conceived that you, +at your age, were already quite capable of acting a part in such +masterly fashion.' + +Sophia's hands faintly trembled above the keys. 'Why are you saying +this?' she said, still not looking at me; 'I play a part?' + +'Yes, you do.' (She smiled ... I was seized with spiteful fury.) ... +'You pretend to be indifferent to a man and ... and you write letters +to him,' I added in a whisper. + +Sophia's cheeks grew white, but she did not turn to me: she played the +nocturne through to the end, got up, and closed the piano. + +'Where are you going?' I asked her in some perplexity. 'You have no +answer to make me?' + +'What answer can I make you? I don't know what you 're talking +about.... And I am not good at pretending....' + +She began putting by the music. + +The blood rushed to my head. 'No; you know what I am talking about,' I +said, and I too got up from my seat; 'or if you like, I will remind you +directly of some of your expressions in one letter: "be as careful as +before"....' + +Sophia gave a faint start. + +'I never should have expected this of you,' she said at last. + +'I never should have expected,' I retorted, 'that you, Sophia +Nikolaevna, would have deigned to notice a man who ...' + +Sophia turned with a rapid movement to me; I instinctively stepped back +a little from her; her eyes, always half closed, were so wide open that +they looked immense, and they glittered wrathfully under her frowning +brows. + +'Oh! if that's it,' she said, 'let me tell you that I love that man, +and that it's absolutely no consequence to me what you think about him +or about my love for him. And what business is it of yours? ... What +right have you to speak of this? If I have made up my mind ...' + +She stopped speaking, and went hurriedly out of the room. I stood +still. I felt all of a sudden so uncomfortable and so ashamed that I +hid my face in my hands. I realised all the impropriety, all the +baseness of my behaviour, and, choked with shame and remorse, I stood +as it were in disgrace. 'Mercy,' I thought, 'what I've done!' + +'Anton Nikititch,' I heard the maid-servant saying in the outer-room, +'get a glass of water, quick, for Sophia Nikolaevna.' + +'What's wrong?' answered the man. + +'I fancy she's crying....' + +I started up and went into the drawing-room for my hat. + +'What were you talking about to Sonitchka?' Varvara inquired +indifferently, and after a brief pause she added in an undertone, +'Here's that clerk again.' + +I began saying good-bye. + +'Why are you going? Stay a little; mamma is coming down directly.' + +'No; I can't now,' I said: 'I had better call and see her another +time.' + +At that instant, to my horror, to my positive horror, Sophia walked +with resolute steps into the drawing-room. Her face was paler than +usual, and her eyelids were a little red. She never even glanced at me. + +'Look, Sonia,' observed Varvara; 'there's a clerk keeps continually +passing our house.' + +'A spy, perhaps...' Sophia remarked coldly and contemptuously. + +This was too much. I went away, and I really don't know how I got home. + +I felt very miserable, wretched and miserable beyond description. In +twenty-four hours two such cruel blows! I had learned that Sophia loved +another man, and I had for ever forfeited her respect. I felt myself so +utterly annihilated and disgraced that I could not even feel indignant +with myself. Lying on the sofa with my face turned to the wall, I was +revelling in the first rush of despairing misery, when I suddenly heard +footsteps in the room. I lifted my head and saw one of my most intimate +friends, Yakov Pasinkov. + +I was ready to fly into a rage with any one who had come into my room +that day, but with Pasinkov I could never be angry. Quite the contrary; +in spite of the sorrow devouring me, I was inwardly rejoiced at his +coming, and I nodded to him. He walked twice up and down the room, as +his habit was, clearing his throat, and stretching out his long limbs; +then he stood a minute facing me in silence, and in silence he seated +himself in a corner. + +I had known Pasinkov a very long while, almost from childhood. He had +been brought up at the same private school, kept by a German, +Winterkeller, at which I had spent three years. Yakov's father, a poor +major on the retired list, a very honest man, but a little deranged +mentally, had brought him, when a boy of seven, to this German; had +paid for him for a year in advance, and had then left Moscow and been +lost sight of completely.... From time to time there were dark, strange +rumours about him. Eight years later it was known as a positive fact +that he had been drowned in a flood when crossing the Irtish. What had +taken him to Siberia, God knows. Yakov had no other relations; his +mother had long been dead. He was simply left stranded on +Winterkeller's hands. Yakov had, it is true, a distant relation, a +great-aunt; but she was so poor, that she was afraid at first to go to +her nephew, for fear she should have the care of him thrust upon her. +Her fears turned out to be groundless; the kind-hearted German kept +Yakov with him, let him study with his other pupils, fed him (dessert, +however, was not offered him except on Sundays), and rigged him out in +clothes cut out of the cast-off morning-gowns--usually +snuff-coloured--of his mother, an old Livonian lady, still alert and +active in spite of her great age. Owing to all these circumstances, and +owing generally to Yakov's inferior position in the school, his +schoolfellows treated him in rather a casual fashion, looked down upon +him, and used to call him 'mammy's dressing-gown,' the 'nephew of the +mob-cap' (his aunt invariably wore a very peculiar mob-cap with a bunch +of yellow ribbons sticking straight upright, like a globe artichoke, +upon it), and sometimes the 'son of Yermak' (because his father had, +like that hero, been drowned in the Irtish). But in spite of those +nicknames, in spite of his ridiculous garb, and his absolute +destitution, every one was fond of him, and indeed it was impossible +not to be fond of him; a sweeter, nobler nature, I imagine, has never +existed upon earth. He was very good at lessons too. + +When I saw him first, he was sixteen years old, and I was only just +thirteen. I was an exceedingly selfish and spoilt boy; I had grown up +in a rather wealthy house, and so, on entering the school, I lost no +time in making friends with a little prince, an object of special +solicitude to Winterkeller, and with two or three other juvenile +aristocrats; while I gave myself great airs with all the rest. Pasinkov +I did not deign to notice at all. I regarded the long, gawky lad, in a +shapeless coat and short trousers, which showed his coarse thread +stockings, as some sort of page-boy, one of the house-serfs--at best, a +person of the working class. Pasinkov was extremely courteous and +gentle to everybody, though he never sought the society of any one. If +he were rudely treated, he was neither humiliated nor sullen; he simply +withdrew and held himself aloof, with a sort of regretful look, as it +were biding his time. This was just how he behaved with me. About two +months passed. One bright summer day I happened to go out of the +playground after a noisy game of leap-frog, and walking into the garden +I saw Pasinkov sitting on a bench under a high lilac-bush. He was +reading. I glanced at the cover of the book as I passed, and read +_Schiller's Werke_ on the back. I stopped short. + +'Do you mean to say you know German?' I questioned Pasinkov.... + +I feel ashamed to this day as I recall all the arrogance there was in +the very sound of my voice.... Pasinkov softly raised his small but +expressive eyes and looked at me. + +'Yes,' he answered; 'do you?' + +'I should hope so!' I retorted, feeling insulted at the question, and I +was about to go on my way, but something held me back. + +'What is it you are reading of Schiller?' I asked, with the same +haughty insolence. + +'At this moment I am reading "Resignation," a beautiful poem. Would you +like me to read it to you? Come and sit here by me on the bench.' + +I hesitated a little, but I sat down. Pasinkov began reading. He knew + +German far better than I did. He had to explain the meaning of several +lines for me. But already I felt no shame at my ignorance and his +superiority to me. From that day, from the very hour of our reading +together in the garden, in the shade of the lilac-bush, I loved +Pasinkov with my whole soul, I attached myself to him and fell +completely under his sway. + +I have a vivid recollection of his appearance in those days. He changed +very little, however, later on. He was tall, thin, and rather awkwardly +built, with a long back, narrow shoulders, and a hollow chest, which +made him look rather frail and delicate, although as a fact he had +nothing to complain of on the score of health. His large, dome-shaped +head was carried a little on one side; his soft, flaxen hair straggled +in lank locks about his slender neck. His face was not handsome, and +might even have struck one as absurd, owing to the long, full, and +reddish nose, which seemed almost to overhang his wide, straight mouth. +But his open brow was splendid; and when he smiled, his little grey +eyes gleamed with such mild and affectionate goodness, that every one +felt warmed and cheered at heart at the very sight of him. I remember +his voice too, soft and even, with a peculiar sort of sweet huskiness +in it. He spoke, as a rule, little, and with noticeable difficulty. But +when he warmed up, his words flowed freely, and--strange to say!--his +voice grew still softer, his glance seemed turned inward and lost its +fire, while his whole face faintly glowed. On his lips the words +'goodness,' 'truth,' 'life,' 'science,' 'love,' however +enthusiastically they were uttered, never rang with a false note. +Without strain, without effort, he stepped into the realm of the ideal; +his pure soul was at any moment ready to stand before the 'holy shrine +of beauty'; it awaited only the welcoming call, the contact of another +soul.... Pasinkov was an idealist, one of the last idealists whom it +has been my lot to come across. Idealists, as we all know, are all but +extinct in these days; there are none of them, at any rate, among the +young people of to day. So much the worse for the young people of +to-day! + +About three years I spent with Pasinkov, 'soul in soul,' as the saying +is. + +I was the confidant of his first love. With what grateful sympathy and +intentness I listened to his avowal! The object of his passion was a +niece of Winterkeller's, a fair-haired, pretty little German, with a +chubby, almost childish little face, and confidingly soft blue eyes. +She was very kind and sentimental: she loved Mattison, Uhland, and +Schiller, and repeated their verses very sweetly in her timid, musical +voice. Pasinkov's love was of the most platonic. He only saw his +beloved on Sundays, when she used to come and play at forfeits with the +Winterkeller children, and he had very little conversation with her. +But once, when she said to him, 'mein lieber, lieber Herr Jacob!' he +did not sleep all night from excess of bliss. It never even struck him +at the time that she called all his schoolfellows 'mein lieber.' I +remember, too, his grief and dejection when the news suddenly reached +us that Fraeulein Frederike--that was her name--was going to be married +to Herr Kniftus, the owner of a prosperous butcher's shop, a very +handsome man, and well educated too; and that she was marrying him, not +simply in submission to parental authority, but positively from love. +It was a bitter blow for Pasinkov, and his sufferings were particularly +severe on the day of the young people's first visit. The former +Fraeulein, now Frau, Frederike presented him, once more addressing him +as 'lieber Herr Jacob,' to her husband, who was all splendour from top +to toe; his eyes, his black hair brushed up into a tuft, his forehead +and his teeth, and his coat buttons, and the chain on his waistcoat, +everything, down to the boots on his rather large, turned-out feet, +shone brilliantly. Pasinkov pressed Herr Kniftus's hand, and wished him +(and the wish was sincere, that I am certain) complete and enduring +happiness. This took place in my presence. I remember with what +admiration and sympathy I gazed at Yakov. I thought him a hero!.... And +afterwards, what mournful conversations passed between us. 'Seek +consolation in art,' I said to him. 'Yes,' he answered me; 'and in +poetry.' 'And in friendship,' I added. 'And in friendship,' he +repeated. Oh, happy days!... + +It was a grief to me to part from Pasinkov. Just before I left school, +he had, after prolonged efforts and difficulties, after a +correspondence often amusing, succeeded in obtaining his certificates +of birth and baptism and his passport, and had entered the university. +He still went on living at Winterkeller's expense; but instead of +home-made jackets and breeches, he was provided now with ordinary +attire, in return for lessons on various subjects, which he gave the +younger pupils. Pasinkov was unchanged in his behaviour to me up to the +end of my time at the school, though the difference in our ages began +to be more noticeable, and I, I remember, grew jealous of some of his +new student friends. His influence on me was most beneficial. It was a +pity it did not last longer. To give a single instance: as a child I +was in the habit of telling lies.... In Yakov's presence I could not +bring my tongue to utter an untruth. What I particularly loved was +walking alone with him, or pacing by his side up and down the room, +listening while he, not looking at me, read poetry in his soft, intense +voice. It positively seemed to me that we were slowly, gradually, +getting away from the earth, and soaring away to some radiant, glorious +land of mystery.... I remember one night. We were sitting together +under the same lilac-bush; we were fond of that spot. All our +companions were asleep; but we had softly got up, dressed, fumbling in +the dark, and stealthily stepped out 'to dream.' It was fairly warm out +of doors, but a fresh breeze blew now and then and made us huddle +closer together. We talked, we talked a lot, and with much warmth--so +much so, that we positively interrupted each other, though we did not +argue. In the sky gleamed stars innumerable. Yakov raised his eyes, and +pressing my hand he softly cried out: + + 'Above our heads + The sky with the eternal stars.... + Above the stars their Maker....' + +A thrill of awe ran through me; I felt cold all over, and sank on his +shoulder.... My heart was full.... Where are those raptures? Alas! +where youth is. + +In Petersburg I met Yakov again eight years after. I had only just been +appointed to a position in the service, and some one had got him a +little post in some department. Our meeting was most joyful. I shall +never forget the moment when, sitting alone one day at home, I suddenly +heard his voice in the passage.... + +How I started; with what throbbing at the heart I leaped up and flung +myself on his neck, without giving him time to take off his fur +overcoat and unfasten his scarf! How greedily I gazed at him through +bright, involuntary tears of tenderness! He had grown a little older +during those seven years; lines, delicate as if they had been traced by +a needle, furrowed his brow here and there, his cheeks were a little +more hollow, and his hair was thinner; but he had hardly more beard, +and his smile was just the same as ever; and his laugh, a soft, inward, +as it were breathless laugh, was the same too.... + +Mercy on us! what didn't we talk about that day! ... The favourite +poems we read to one another! I began begging him to move and come and +live with me, but he would not consent. He promised, however, to come +every day to see me, and he kept his word. + +In soul, too, Pasinkov was unchanged. He showed himself just the same +idealist as I had always known him. However rudely life's chill, the +bitter chill of experience, had closed in about him, the tender flower +that had bloomed so early in my friend's heart had kept all its pure +beauty untouched. There was no trace of sadness even, no trace even of +melancholy in him; he was quiet, as he had always been, but +everlastingly glad at heart. + +In Petersburg he lived as in a wilderness, not thinking of the future, +and knowing scarcely any one. I took him to the Zlotnitskys'. He used +to go and see them rather often. Not being self-conscious, he was not +shy, but in their house, as everywhere, he said very little; they liked +him, however. Even the tedious old man, Tatiana Vassilievna's husband, +was friendly to him, and both the silent girls were soon quite at home +with him. + +Sometimes he would arrive, bringing with him in the back pocket of his +coat some book that had just come out, and for a long time would not +make up his mind to read, but would keep stretching his neck out on one +side, like a bird, looking about him as though inquiring, 'could he?' +At last he would establish himself in a corner (he always liked sitting +in corners), would pull out a book and set to reading, at first in a +whisper, then louder and louder, occasionally interrupting himself with +brief criticisms or exclamations. I noticed that Varvara was readier to +sit by him and listen than her sister, though she certainly did not +understand much; literature was not in her line. She would sit opposite +Pasinkov, her chin in her hands, staring at him--not into his eyes, but +into his whole face--and would not utter a syllable, but only heave a +noisy, sudden sigh. Sometimes in the evenings we used to play forfeits, +especially on Sundays and holidays. We were joined on these occasions +by two plump, short young ladies, sisters, and distant relations of the +Zlotnitskys, terribly given to giggling, and a few lads from the +military school, very good-natured, quiet fellows. Pasinkov always used +to sit beside Tatiana Vassilievna, and with her, judge what was to be +done to the one who had to pay a forfeit. + +Sophia did not like the kisses and such demonstrations, with which +forfeits are often paid, while Varvara used to be cross if she had to +look for anything or guess something. The young ladies giggled +incessantly--laughter seemed to bubble up by some magic in them,--I +sometimes felt positively irritated as I looked at them, but Pasinkov +only smiled and shook his head. Old Zlotnitsky took no part in our +games, and even looked at us rather disapprovingly from the door of his +study. Only once, utterly unexpectedly, he came in to us, and proposed +that whoever had next to pay a forfeit should waltz with him; we, of +course, agreed. It happened to be Tatiana Vassilievna who had to pay +the forfeit. She crimsoned all over, and was confused and abashed like +a girl of fifteen; but her husband at once told Sophia to go to the +piano, while he went up to his wife, and waltzed two rounds with her of +the old-fashioned _trois temps_ waltz. I remember how his bilious, +gloomy face, with its never-smiling eyes, kept appearing and +disappearing as he slowly turned round, his stern expression never +relaxing. He waltzed with a long step and a hop, while his wife +pattered rapidly with her feet, and huddled up with her face close to +his chest, as though she were in terror. He led her to her place, bowed +to her, went back to his room and shut the door. Sophia was just +getting up, but Varvara asked her to go on, went up to Pasinkov, and +holding out her hand, with an awkward smile, said, 'Will you like a +turn?' Pasinkov was surprised, but he jumped up--he was always +distinguished by the most delicate courtesy--and took Varvara by the +waist, but he slipped down at the first step, and leaving hold of his +partner at once, rolled right under the pedestal on which the parrot's +cage was standing.... The cage fell, the parrot was frightened and +shrieked, 'Present arms!' Every one laughed.... Zlotnitsky appeared at +his study door, looked grimly at us, and slammed the door to. From that +time forth, one had only to allude to this incident before Varvara, and +she would go off into peals of laughter at once, and look at Pasinkov, +as though anything cleverer than his behaviour on that occasion it was +impossible to conceive. + +Pasinkov was very fond of music. He used often to beg Sophia to play +him something, and to sit on one side listening, and now and then +humming in a thin voice the most pathetic passages. He was particularly +fond of Schubert's Constellation. He used to declare that when he heard +the air played he could always fancy that with the sounds long rays of +azure light came pouring down from on high, straight upon him. To this +day, whenever I look upon a cloudless sky at night, with the softly +quivering stars, I always recall Schubert's melody and Pasinkov.... An +excursion into the country comes back to my mind. We set out, a whole +party of us, in two hired four-wheel carriages, to Pargolovo. I +remember we took the carriages from the Vladimirsky; they were very +old, and painted blue, with round springs, and a wide box-seat, and +bundles of hay inside; the brown, broken-winded horses that drew us +along at a slow trot were each lame in a different leg. We strolled a +long while about the pinewoods round Pargolovo, drank milk out of +earthenware pitchers, and ate wild strawberries and sugar. The weather +was exquisite. Varvara did not care for long walks: she used soon to +get tired; but this time she did not lag behind us. She took off her +hat, her hair came down, her heavy features lighted up, and her cheeks +were flushed. Meeting two peasant girls in the wood, she sat down +suddenly on the ground, called them to her, did not patronise them, but +made them sit down beside her. Sophia looked at them from some distance +with a cold smile, and did not go up to them. She was walking with +Asanov. Zlotnitsky observed that Varvara was a regular hen for sitting. +Varvara got up and walked away. In the course of the walk she several +times went up to Pasinkov, and said to him, 'Yakov Ivanitch, I want to +tell you something,' but what she wanted to tell him--remained unknown. + +But it's high time for me to get back to my story. + + + * * * * * + + +I was glad to see Pasinkov; but when I recalled what I had done the day +before, I felt unutterably ashamed, and I hurriedly turned away to the +wall again. After a brief pause, Yakov asked me if I were unwell. + +'I'm quite well,' I answered through my teeth; 'only my head aches.' + +Yakov made no reply, and took up a book. More than an hour passed by; I +was just coming to the point of confessing everything to Yakov ... +suddenly there was a ring at the outer bell of my flat. + +The door on to the stairs was opened.... I listened.... Asanov was +asking my servant if I were at home. + +Pasinkov got up; he did not care for Asanov, and telling me in a +whisper that he would go and lie down on my bed, he went into my +bedroom. + +A minute later Asanov entered. + +From the very sight of his flushed face, from his brief, cool bow, I +guessed that he had not come to me without some set purpose in his +mind. 'What is going to happen?' I wondered. + +'Sir,' he began, quickly seating himself in an armchair, 'I have come +to you for you to settle a matter of doubt for me.' + +'And that is?' + +'That is: I wish to know whether you are an honest man.' + +I flew into a rage. 'What's the meaning of that?' I demanded. + +'I'll tell you what's the meaning of it,' he retorted, underlining as +it were each word. 'Yesterday I showed you a pocket-book containing +letters from a certain person to me.... To-day you repeated to that +person, with reproach--with reproach, observe--some expressions from +those letters, without having the slightest right to do so. I should +like to know what explanation you can give of this?' + +'And I should like to know what right you have to cross-examine me,' I +answered, trembling with fury and inward shame. + +'You chose to boast of your uncle, of your correspondence; I'd nothing +to do with it. You've got all your letters all right, haven't you?' + +'The letters are all right; but I was yesterday in a condition in which +you could easily----' + +'In short, sir,' I began, speaking intentionally as loud as I could, 'I +beg you to leave me alone, do you hear? I don't want to know anything +about it, and I'm not going to give you any explanation. You can go to +that person for explanations!' I felt that my head was beginning to go +round. + +Asanov turned upon me a look to which he obviously tried to impart an +air of scornful penetration, pulled his moustaches, and got up slowly. + +'I know now what to think,' he observed; 'your face is the best +evidence against you. But I must tell you that that's not the way +honourable people behave.... To read a letter on the sly, and then to +go and worry an honourable girl....' + +'Will you go to the devil!' I shouted, stamping, 'and send me a second; +I don't mean to talk to you.' + +'Kindly refrain from telling me what to do,' Asanov retorted frigidly; +'but I certainly will send a second to you.' + +He went away. I fell on the sofa and hid my face in my hands. Some one +touched me on the shoulder; I moved my hands--before me was standing +Pasinkov. + +'What's this? is it true?' ... he asked me. 'You read another man's +letter?' + +I had not the strength to answer, but I nodded in assent. + +Pasinkov went to the window, and standing with his back to me, said +slowly: 'You read a letter from a girl to Asanov. Who was the girl?' + +'Sophia Zlotnitsky,' I answered, as a prisoner on his trial answers the +judge. + +For a long while Pasinkov did not utter a word. + +'Nothing but passion could to some extent excuse you,' he began at +last. 'Are you in love then with the younger Zlotnitsky?' + +'Yes.' + +Pasinkov was silent again for a little. + +'I thought so. And you went to her to-day and began reproaching +her?...' + +'Yes, yes, yes!...' I articulated desperately. 'Now you can despise +me....' + +Pasinkov walked a couple of times up and down the room. + +'And she loves him?' he queried. + +'She loves him....' + +Pasinkov looked down, and gazed a long while at the floor without +moving. + +'Well, it must be set right,' he began, raising his head,' things can't +be left like this.' + +And he took up his hat. + +'Where are you going?' + +'To Asanov.' + +I jumped up from the sofa. + +'But I won't let you. Good heavens! how can you! what will he think?' + +Pasinkov looked at me. + +'Why, do you think it better to keep this folly up, to bring ruin on +yourself, and disgrace on the girl?' + +'But what are you going to say to Asanov?' + +'I'll try and explain things to him, I'll tell him you beg his +forgiveness ...' + +'But I don't want to apologise to him!' + +'You don't? Why, aren't you in fault?' + +I looked at Pasinkov; the calm and severe, though mournful, expression +of his face impressed me; it was new to me. I made no reply, and sat +down on the sofa. + +Pasinkov went out. + +In what agonies of suspense I waited for his return! With what cruel +slowness the time lingered by! At last he came back--late. + +'Well?' I queried in a timid voice. + +'Thank goodness!' he answered; 'it's all settled.' + +'You have been at Asanov's?' + +'Yes.' + +'Well, and he?--made a great to-do, I suppose?' I articulated with an +effort. + +'No, I can't say that. I expected more ... He ... he's not such a +vulgar fellow as I thought.' + +'Well, and have you seen any one else besides?' I asked, after a brief +pause. + +'I've been at the Zlotnitskys'.' + +'Ah!...' (My heart began to throb. I did not dare look Pasinkov in the +face.) 'Well, and she?' + +'Sophia Nikolaevna is a reasonable, kind-hearted girl.... Yes, she is a +kind-hearted girl. She felt awkward at first, but she was soon at ease. +But our whole conversation only lasted five minutes.' + +'And you ... told her everything ... about me ... everything?' + +'I told her what was necessary.' + +'I shall never be able to go and see them again now!' I pronounced +dejectedly.... + +'Why? No, you can go occasionally. On the contrary, you are absolutely +bound to go and see them, so that nothing should be thought....' + +'Ah, Yakov, you will despise me now!' I cried, hardly keeping back my +tears. + +'Me! Despise you? ...' (His affectionate eyes glowed with love.) +'Despise you ... silly fellow! Don't I see how hard it's been for you, +how you're suffering?' + +He held out his hand to me; I fell on his neck and broke into sobs. + +After a few days, during which I noticed that Pasinkov was in very low +spirits, I made up my mind at last to go to the Zlotnitskys'. What I +felt, as I stepped into their drawing-room, it would be difficult to +convey in words; I remember that I could hardly distinguish the persons +in the room, and my voice failed me. Sophia was no less ill at ease; +she obviously forced herself to address me, but her eyes avoided mine +as mine did hers, and every movement she made, her whole being, +expressed constraint, mingled ... why conceal the truth? with secret +aversion. I tried, as far as possible, to spare her and myself from +such painful sensations. This meeting was happily our last--before her +marriage. A sudden change in my fortunes carried me off to the other +end of Russia, and I bade a long farewell to Petersburg, to the +Zlotnitsky family, and, what was most grievous of all for me, to dear +Yakov Pasinkov. + + +II + +Seven years had passed by. I don't think it necessary to relate all +that happened to me during that period. I moved restlessly about over +Russia, and made my way into the remotest wilds, and thank God I did! +The wilds are not so much to be dreaded as some people suppose, and in +the most hidden places, under the fallen twigs and rotting leaves in +the very heart of the forest, spring up flowers of sweet fragrance. + +One day in spring, as I was passing on some official duties through a +small town in one of the outlying provinces of Eastern Russia, through +the dim little window of my coach I saw standing before a shop in the +square a man whose face struck me as exceedingly familiar. I looked +attentively at the man, and to my great delight recognised him as +Elisei, Pasinkov's servant. + +I at once told the driver to stop, jumped out of the coach, and went up +to Elisei. + +'Hullo, friend!' I began, with difficulty concealing my excitement; +'are you here with your master?' + +'Yes, I'm with my master,' he responded slowly, and then suddenly cried +out: 'Why, sir, is it you? I didn't know you.' + +'Are you here with Yakov Ivanitch?' + +'Yes, sir, with him, to be sure ... whom else would I be with?' + +'Take me to him quickly.' + +'To be sure! to be sure! This way, please, this way ... we're stopping +here at the tavern.' Elisei led me across the square, incessantly +repeating--'Well, now, won't Yakov Ivanitch be pleased!' + +This man, of Kalmuck extraction, and hideous, even savage appearance, +but the kindest-hearted creature and by no means a fool, was +passionately devoted to Pasinkov, and had been his servant for ten +years. + +'Is Yakov Ivanitch quite well?' I asked him. + +Elisei turned his dusky, yellow little face to me. + +'Ah, sir, he's in a poor way ... in a poor way, sir! You won't know his +honour.... He's not long for this world, I'm afraid. That's how it is +we've stopped here, or we had been going on to Odessa for his health.' + +'Where do you come from?' + +'From Siberia, sir.' + +'From Siberia?' + +'Yes, sir. Yakov Ivanitch was sent to a post out there. It was there +his honour got his wound.' + +'Do you mean to say he went into the military service?' + +'Oh no, sir. He served in the civil service.' + +'What a strange thing!' I thought. + +Meanwhile we had reached the tavern, and Elisei ran on in front to +announce me. During the first years of our separation, Pasinkov and I +had written to each other pretty often, but his last letter had reached +me four years before, and since then I had heard nothing of him. + +'Please come up, sir!' Elisei shouted to me from the staircase; 'Yakov +Ivanitch is very anxious to see you.' + +I ran hurriedly up the tottering stairs, went into a dark little +room--and my heart sank.... On a narrow bed, under a fur cloak, pale as +a corpse, lay Pasinkov, and he was stretching out to me a bare, wasted +hand. I rushed up to him and embraced him passionately. + +'Yasha!' I cried at last; 'what's wrong with you?' + +'Nothing,' he answered in a faint voice; 'I'm a bit feeble. What chance +brought you here?' + +I sat down on a chair beside Pasinkov's bed, and, never letting his +hands out of my hands, I began gazing into his face. I recognised the +features I loved; the expression of the eyes and the smile were +unchanged; but what a wreck illness had made of him! + +He noticed the impression he was making on me. + +'It's three days since I shaved,' he observed; 'and, to be sure, I've +not been combed and brushed, but except for that ... I'm not so bad.' + +'Tell me, please, Yasha,' I began; 'what's this Elisei's been telling +me ... you were wounded?' + +'Ah! yes, it's quite a history,' he replied. 'I'll tell you it later. +Yes, I was wounded, and only fancy what by?--an arrow.' + +'An arrow?' + +'Yes, an arrow; only not a mythological one, not Cupid's arrow, but a +real arrow of very flexible wood, with a sharply-pointed tip at one +end.... A very unpleasant sensation is produced by such an arrow, +especially when it sticks in one's lungs.' + +'But however did it come about? upon my word!...' + +'I'll tell you how it happened. You know there always was a great deal +of the absurd in my life. Do you remember my comical correspondence +about getting my passport? Well, I was wounded in an absurd fashion +too. And if you come to think of it, what self-respecting person in our +enlightened century would permit himself to be wounded by an arrow? And +not accidentally--observe--not at sports of any sort, but in a battle.' + +'But you still don't tell me ...' + +'All right, wait a minute,' he interrupted. 'You know that soon after +you left Petersburg I was transferred to Novgorod. I was a good time at +Novgorod, and I must own I was bored there, though even there I came +across one creature....' (He sighed.) ... 'But no matter about that +now; two years ago I got a capital little berth, some way off, it's +true, in the Irkutsk province, but what of that! It seems as though my +father and I were destined from birth to visit Siberia. A splendid +country, Siberia! Rich, fertile--every one will tell you the same. I +liked it very much there. The natives were put under my rule; they're a +harmless lot of people; but as my ill-luck would have it, they took it +into their heads, a dozen of them, not more, to smuggle in contraband +goods. I was sent to arrest them. Arrest them I did, but one of them, +crazy he must have been, thought fit to defend himself, and treated me +to the arrow.... I almost died of it; however, I got all right again. +Now, here I am going to get completely cured.... The government--God +give them all good health!--have provided the cash.' + +Pasinkov let his head fall back on the pillow, exhausted, and ceased +speaking. A faint flush suffused his cheeks. He closed his eyes. + +'He can't talk much,' Elisei, who had not left the room, murmured in an +undertone. + +A silence followed; nothing was heard but the sick man's painful +breathing. + +'But here,' he went on, opening his eyes, 'I've been stopping a +fortnight in this little town.... I caught cold, I suppose. The +district doctor here is attending me--you'll see him; he seems to know +his business. I'm awfully glad it happened so, though, or how should we +have met?' (And he took my hand. His hand, which had just before been +cold as ice, was now burning hot.) 'Tell me something about yourself,' +he began again, throwing the cloak back off his chest. 'You and I +haven't seen each other since God knows when.' + +I hastened to carry out his wish, so as not to let him talk, and +started giving an account of myself. He listened to me at first with +great attention, then asked for drink, and then began closing his eyes +again and turning his head restlessly on the pillow. I advised him to +have a little nap, adding that I should not go on further till he was +well again, and that I should establish myself in a room beside him. +'It's very nasty here ...' Pasinkov was beginning, but I stopped his +mouth, and went softly out. Elisei followed me. + +'What is it, Elisei? Why, he's dying, isn't he?' I questioned the +faithful servant. + +Elisei simply made a gesture with his hand, and turned away. + +Having dismissed my driver, and rapidly moved my things into the next +room, I went to see whether Pasinkov was asleep. At the door I ran up +against a tall man, very fat and heavily built. His face, pock-marked +and puffy, expressed laziness--and nothing else; his tiny little eyes +seemed, as it were, glued up, and his lips looked polished, as though +he were just awake. + +'Allow me to ask,' I questioned him, 'are you not the doctor?' + +The fat man looked at me, seeming with an effort to lift his +overhanging forehead with his eyebrows. + +'Yes, sir,' he responded at last. + +'Do me the favour, Mr. Doctor, won't you, please, to come this way into +my room? Yakov Ivanitch, is, I believe, now asleep. I am a friend of +his and should like to have a little talk with you about his illness, +which makes me very uneasy.' + +'Very good,' answered the doctor, with an expression which seemed to +try and say, 'Why talk so much? I'd have come anyway,' and he followed +me. + +'Tell me, please,' I began, as soon as he had dropped into a chair, 'is +my friend's condition serious? What do you think?' + +'Yes,' answered the fat man, tranquilly. + +'And... is it very serious?' + +'Yes, it's serious.' + +'So that he may...even die?' + +'He may.' + +I confess I looked almost with hatred at the fat man. + +'Good heavens!' I began; 'we must take some steps, call a consultation, +or something. You know we can't... Mercy on us!' + +'A consultation?--quite possible; why not? It's possible. Call in Ivan +Efremitch....' + +The doctor spoke with difficulty, and sighed continually. His stomach +heaved perceptibly when he spoke, as it were emphasising each word. + +'Who is Ivan Efremitch?' + +'The parish doctor.' + +'Shouldn't we send to the chief town of the province? What do you +think? There are sure to be good doctors there.' + +'Well! you might.' + +'And who is considered the best doctor there?' + +'The best? There was a doctor Kolrabus there ... only I fancy he's been +transferred somewhere else. Though I must own there's no need really to +send.' + +'Why so?' + +'Even the best doctor will be of no use to your friend.' + +'Why, is he so bad?' + +'Yes, he's run down.' 'In what way precisely is he ill?' + +'He received a wound.... The lungs were affected in consequence ... and +then he's taken cold too, and fever was set up ... and so on. And +there's no reserve force; a man can't get on, you know yourself, with +no reserve force.' + +We were both silent for a while. + +'How about trying homoeopathy?...' said the fat man, with a sidelong +glance at me. + +'Homoeopathy? Why, you're an allopath, aren't you?' + +'What of that? Do you think I don't understand homoeopathy? I +understand it as well as the other! Why, the chemist here among us +treats people homeopathically, and he has no learned degree whatever.' + +'Oh,' I thought, 'it's a bad look-out!...' + +'No, doctor,' I observed, 'you had better treat him according to your +usual method.' + +'As you please.' + +The fat man got up and heaved a sigh. + +'You are going to him? 'I asked. + +'Yes, I must have a look at him.' + +And he went out. + +I did not follow him; to see him at the bedside of my poor, sick friend +was more than I could stand. I called my man and gave him orders to +drive at once to the chief town of the province, to inquire there for +the best doctor, and to bring him without fail. There was a slight +noise in the passage. I opened the door quickly. + +The doctor was already coming out of Pasinkov's room. + +'Well?' I questioned him in a whisper. + +'It's all right. I have prescribed a mixture.' + +'I have decided, doctor, to send to the chief town. I have no doubt of +your skill, but as you're aware, two heads are better than one.' + +'Well, that's very praiseworthy!' responded the fat man, and he began +to descend the staircase. He was obviously tired of me. + +I went in to Pasinkov. + +'Have you seen the local Aesculapius?' he asked. + +'Yes,' I answered. + +'What I like about him,' remarked Pasinkov, 'is his astounding +composure. A doctor ought to be phlegmatic, oughtn't he? It's so +encouraging for the patient.' + +I did not, of course, try to controvert this. + +Towards the evening, Pasinkov, contrary to my expectations, seemed +better. He asked Elisei to set the samovar, announced that he was going +to regale me with tea, and drink a small cup himself, and he was +noticeably more cheerful. I tried, though, not to let him talk, and +seeing that he would not be quiet, I asked him if he would like me to +read him something. 'Just as at Winterkeller's--do you remember?' he +answered. 'If you will, I shall be delighted. What shall we read? Look, +there are my books in the window.'... + +I went to the window and took up the first book that my hand chanced +upon.... + +'What is it?' he asked. + +'Lermontov.' + +'Ah, Lermontov! Excellent! Pushkin is greater, no doubt.... Do you +remember: "Once more the storm-clouds gather close Above me in the +perfect calm" ... or, "For the last time thy image sweet in thought I +dare caress." Ah! marvellous! marvellous! But Lermontov's fine too. +Well, I'll tell you what, dear boy: you take the book, open it by +chance, and read what you find!' + +I opened the book, and was disconcerted; I had chanced upon 'The Last +Will.' I tried to turn over the page, but Pasinkov noticed my action +and said hurriedly: 'No, no, no, read what turned up.' + +There was no getting out of it; I read 'The Last Will.' + +[Footnote: THE LAST WILL + + Alone with thee, brother, + I would wish to be; + On earth, so they tell me, + I have not long to stay, + Soon you will go home: + See that ... But nay! for my fate + To speak the truth, no one + Is very greatly troubled. + + But if any one asks ... + + Well, whoever may ask, + Tell them that through the breast + I was shot by a bullet; + That I died honourably for the Tsar, + That our doctors are not much good, + And that to my native land + I send a humble greeting. + + My father and mother, hardly + Will you find living.... + I'll own I should be sorry + That they should grieve for me.] + +'Splendid thing!' said Pasinkov, directly I had finished the last +verse. 'Splendid thing! + +But, it's queer,' he added, after a brief pause, 'it's queer you should +have chanced just on that.... Queer.' + +I began to read another poem, but Pasinkov was not listening to me; he +looked away, and twice he repeated again: 'Queer!' + +I let the book drop on my knees. + +'"There is a girl, their neighbour,"' he whispered, and turning to me +he asked--'I say, do you remember Sophia Zlotnitsky?' + +I turned red. + +'I should think I did!' + +'She was married, I suppose?...' + +'To Asanov, long, long ago. I wrote to you about it.' + + + * * * * * + + + But if either of them is living, + Say I am lazy about writing, + That our regiment has been sent forward, + And that they must not expect me home. + + There is a girl, their neighbour.... + As you remember, it's long + Since we parted.... She will not + Ask for me.... All the same, + You tell her all the truth, + Don't spare her empty heart-- + Let her weep a little.... + It will not hurt her much! + +'To be sure, to be sure, so you did. Did her father forgive her in the +end?' + +'He forgave her; but he would not receive Asanov.' + +'Obstinate old fellow! Well, and are they supposed to be happy?' + +'I don't know, really... I fancy they 're happy. They live in the +country, in ---- province. I've never seen them, though I have been +through their parts.' + +'And have they any children?' + +'I think so.... By the way, Pasinkov?...' I began questioningly. + +He glanced at me. + +'Confess--do you remember, you were unwilling to answer my question at +the time--did you tell her I cared for her?' + +'I told her everything, the whole truth.... I always told her the +truth. To be hypocritical with her would have been a sin!' + +Pasinkov was silent for a while. + +'Come, tell me,' he began again: 'did you soon get over caring for her, +or not?' + +'Not very soon, but I got over it. What's the good of sighing in vain?' + +Pasinkov turned over, facing me. + +'Well, I, brother,' he began--and his lips were quivering--'am no match +for you there; I've not got over caring for her to this day.' + +'What!' I cried in indescribable amazement; 'did you love her?' + +'I loved her,' said Pasinkov slowly, and he put both hands behind his +head. 'How I loved her, God only knows. I've never spoken of it to any +one, to any one in the world, and I never meant to ... but there! "On +earth, so they tell me, I have not long to stay." ... What does it +matter?' + +Pasinkov's unexpected avowal so utterly astonished me that I could +positively say nothing. I could only wonder, 'Is it possible? how was +it I never suspected it?' + +'Yes,' he went on, as though speaking to himself, 'I loved her. I never +ceased to love her even when I knew her heart was Asanov's. But how +bitter it was for me to know that! If she had loved you, I should at +least have rejoiced for you; but Asanov.... How did he make her care +for him? It was just his luck! And change her feelings, cease to care, +she could not! A true heart does not change....' + +I recalled Asanov's visit after the fatal dinner, Pasinkov's +intervention, and I could not help flinging up my hands in +astonishment. + +'You learnt it all from me, poor fellow!' I cried; 'and you undertook +to go and see her then!' + +'Yes,' Pasinkov began again; 'that explanation with her ... I shall +never forget it.' It was then I found out, then I realised the meaning +of the word I had chosen for myself long before: resignation. But still +she has remained my constant dream, my ideal.... And he's to be pitied +who lives without an ideal!' + +I looked at Pasinkov; his eyes, fastened, as it were, on the distance, +shone with feverish brilliance. + +'I loved her,' he went on, 'I loved her, her, calm, true, +unapproachable, incorruptible; when she went away, I was almost mad +with grief.... Since then I have never cared for any one.'... + +And suddenly turning, he pressed his face into the pillow, and began +quietly weeping. + +I jumped up, bent over him, and began trying to comfort him.... + +'It's no matter,' he said, raising his head and shaking back his hair; +'it's nothing; I felt a little bitter, a little sorry ... for myself, +that is.... But it's all no matter. It's all the fault of those verses. +Read me something else, more cheerful.' + +I took up Lermontov and began hurriedly turning over the pages; but, as +fate would have it, I kept coming across poems likely to agitate +Pasinkov again. At last I read him 'The Gifts of Terek.' + +'Jingling rhetoric!' said my poor friend, with the tone of a preceptor; +'but there are fine passages. Since I saw you, brother, I've tried my +hand at poetry, and began one poem--"The Cup of Life"--but it didn't +come off! It's for us, brother, to appreciate, not to create.... But +I'm rather tired; I'll sleep a little--what do you say? What a splendid +thing sleep is, come to think of it! All our life's a dream, and the +best thing in it is dreaming too.' + +'And poetry?' I queried. + +'Poetry's a dream too, but a dream of paradise.' + +Pasinkov closed his eyes. + +I stood for a little while at his bedside. I did not think he would get +to sleep quickly, but soon his breathing became more even and +prolonged. I went away on tiptoe, turned into my own room, and lay down +on the sofa. For a long while I mused on what Pasinkov had told me, +recalled many things, wondered; at last I too fell asleep.... + +Some one touched me; I started up; before me stood Elisei. + +'Come in to my master,' he said. + +I got up at once. + +'What's the matter with him?' + +'He's delirious.' + +'Delirious? And hasn't it ever been so before with him?' + +'Yes, he was delirious last night, too; only to-day it is something +terrible.' + +I went to Pasinkov's room. He was not lying down, but sitting up in +bed, his whole body bent forward. He was slowly gesticulating with his +hands, smiling and talking, talking all the time in a weak, hollow +voice, like the whispering of rushes. His eyes were wandering. The +gloomy light of a night light, set on the floor, and shaded off by a +book, lay, an unmoving patch on the ceiling; Pasinkov's face seemed +paler than ever in the half darkness. + +I went up to him, called him by his name--he did not answer. I began +listening to his whispering: he was talking of Siberia, of its forests. +From time to time there was sense in his ravings. + +'What trees!' he whispered; 'right up to the sky. What frost on them! +Silver ... snowdrifts.... And here are little tracks ... that's a +hare's leaping, that's a white weasel... No, it's my father running +with my papers. Here he is!... Here he is! Must go; the moon is +shining. Must go, look for my papers.... Ah! A flower, a crimson +flower--there's Sophia.... Oh, the bells are ringing, the frost is +crackling.... Ah, no; it's the stupid bullfinches hopping in the +bushes, whistling.... See, the redthroats! Cold.... Ah! here's +Asanov.... Oh yes, of course, he's a cannon, a copper cannon, and his +gun-carriage is green. That's how it is he's liked. Is it a star has +fallen? No, it's an arrow flying.... Ah, how quickly, and straight into +my heart!... Who shot it? You, Sonitchka?' + +He bent his head and began muttering disconnected words. I glanced at +Elisei; he was standing, his hands clasped behind his back, gazing +ruefully at his master. + +'Ah, brother, so you've become a practical person, eh?' he asked +suddenly, turning upon me such a clear, such a fully conscious glance, +that I could not help starting and was about to reply, but he went on +at once: 'But I, brother, have not become a practical person, I +haven't, and that's all about it! A dreamer I was born, a dreamer! +Dreaming, dreaming.... What is dreaming? Sobakevitch's peasant--that's +dreaming. Ugh!...' + +Almost till morning Pasinkov wandered in delirium; at last he gradually +grew quieter, sank back on the pillow, and dozed off. I went back into +my room. Worn out by the cruel night, I slept soundly. + +Elisei again waked me. + +'Ah, sir!' he said in a shaking voice, 'I do believe Yakov Ivanitch is +dying....' + +I ran in to Pasinkov. He was lying motionless. In the light of the +coming day he looked already a corpse. He recognised me. + +'Good-bye,' he whispered; 'greet her for me, I'm dying....' + +'Yasha!' I cried; 'nonsense! you are going to live....' + +'No, no! I am dying.... Here, take this as a keepsake.' ... (He pointed +to his breast.) ... + +'What's this?' he began suddenly; 'look: the sea ... all golden, and +blue isles upon it, marble temples, palm-trees, incense....' + +He ceased speaking ... stretched.... + +Within half an hour he was no more. Elisei flung himself weeping at his +feet. I closed his eyes. + +On his neck there was a little silken amulet on a black cord. I took +it. + +Three days afterwards he was buried.... One of the noblest hearts was +hidden for ever in the grave. I myself threw the first handful of earth +upon him. + + +III + +Another year and a half passed by. Business obliged me to visit Moscow. +I took up my quarters in one of the good hotels there. One day, as I +was passing along the corridor, I glanced at the black-board with the +list of visitors staying in the hotel, and almost cried out aloud with +astonishment. Opposite the number 12 stood, distinctly written in +chalk, the name, Sophia Nikolaevna Asanova. Of late I had chanced to +hear a good deal that was bad about her husband. I had learned that he +was addicted to drink and to gambling, had ruined himself, and was +generally misconducting himself. His wife was spoken of with +respect.... In some excitement I went back to my room. The passion, +that had long long ago grown cold, began as it were to stir within my +heart, and it throbbed. I resolved to go and see Sophia Nikolaevna. +'Such a long time has passed since the day we parted,' I thought, 'she +has, most likely, forgotten everything there was between us in those +days.' + +I sent Elisei, whom I had taken into my service after the death of +Pasinkov, with my visiting-card to her door, and told him to inquire +whether she was at home, and whether I might see her. Elisei quickly +came back and announced that Sophia Nikolaevna was at home and would +see me. + +I went at once to Sophia Nikolaevna. When I went in, she was standing +in the middle of the room, taking leave of a tall stout gentleman. + +'As you like,' he was saying in a rich, mellow voice; 'he is not a +harmless person, he's a useless person; and every useless person in a +well-ordered society is harmful, harmful, harmful!' + +With those words the tall gentleman went out. Sophia Nikolaevna turned +to me. + +'How long it is since we met!' she said. 'Sit down, please....' + +We sat down. I looked at her.... To see again after long absence the +features of a face once dear, perhaps beloved, to recognise them, and +not recognise them, as though across the old, unforgotten countenance a +new one, like, but strange, were looking out at one; instantaneously, +almost unconsciously, to note the traces time has laid upon it;--all +this is rather melancholy. 'I too must have changed in the same way,' +each is inwardly thinking.... + +Sophia Nikolaevna did not, however, look much older; though, when I had +seen her last, she was sixteen, and that was nine years ago. + +Her features had become still more correct and severe; as of old, they +expressed sincerity of feeling and firmness; but in place of her former +serenity, a sort of secret ache and anxiety could be discerned in them. +Her eyes had grown deeper and darker. She had begun to show a likeness +to her mother.... + +Sophia Nikolaevna was the first to begin the conversation. + +'We are both changed,' she began. 'Where have you been all this time?' + +'I've been a rolling stone,' I answered. 'And have you been living in +the country all the while?' + +'For the most part I've been in the country. I'm only here now for a +little time.' + +'How are your parents?' + +'My mother is dead, but my father is still in Petersburg; my brother's +in the service; Varia lives with him.' + +'And your husband?' + +'My husband,' she said in a rather hurried voice--'he's just now in +South Russia for the horse fairs. He was always very fond of horses, +you know, and he has started stud stables ... and so, on that account +... he's buying horses now.' + +At that instant there walked into the room a little girl of eight years +old, with her hair in a pigtail, with a very keen and lively little +face, and large dark grey eyes. On seeing me, she at once drew back her +little foot, dropped a hasty curtsey, and went up to Sophia Nikolaevna. + +'This is my little daughter; let me introduce her to you,' said Sophia + +Nikolaevna, putting one finger under the little girl's round chin; 'she +would not stop at home--she persuaded me to bring her with me.' + +The little girl scanned me with her rapid glance and faintly dropped +her eyelids. + +'She is a capital little person,' Sophia Nikolaevna went on: 'there's +nothing she's afraid of. And she's good at her lessons; I must say that +for her.' + +'Comment se nomme monsieur?' the little girl asked in an undertone, +bending over to her mother. + +Sophia Nikolaevna mentioned my name. + +The little girl glanced at me again. + +'What is your name?' I asked her. + +'My name is Lidia,' answered the little girl, looking me boldly in the +face. + +'I expect they spoil you,' I observed. + +'Who spoil me?' + +'Who? everyone, I expect; your parents to begin with.' + +(The little girl looked, without a word, at her mother.) 'I can fancy +Konstantin Alexandritch,' I was going on ... + +'Yes, yes,' Sophia Nikolaevna interposed, while her little daughter +kept her attentive eyes fastened upon her; 'my husband, of course--he +is very fond of children....' + +A strange expression flitted across Lidia's clever little face. There +was a slight pout about her lips; she hung her head. + +'Tell me,' Sophia Nikolaevna added hurriedly; 'you are here on +business, I expect?' + +'Yes, I am here on business.... And are you too?' + +'Yes.... In my husband's absence, you understand, I'm obliged to look +after business matters.' + +'Maman!' Lidia was beginning. + +'Quoi, mon enfant?' + +'Non--rien.... Je te dirai apres.' + +Sophia Nikolaevna smiled and shrugged her shoulders. + +'Tell me, please,' Sophia Nikolaevna began again; 'do you remember, you +had a friend ... what was his name? he had such a good-natured face ... +he was always reading poetry; such an enthusiastic--' + +'Not Pasinkov?' + +'Yes, yes, Pasinkov ... where is he now?' + +'He is dead.' + +'Dead?' repeated Sophia Nikolaevna; 'what a pity!...' + +'Have I seen him?' the little girl asked in a hurried whisper. + +'No, Lidia, you've never seen him.--What a pity!' repeated Sophia +Nikolaevna. + +'You regret him ...' I began; 'what if you had known him, as I knew +him?... But, why did you speak of him, may I ask?' + +'Oh, I don't know....' (Sophia Nikolaevna dropped her eyes.) 'Lidia,' +she added; 'run away to your nurse.' + +'You'll call me when I may come back?' asked the little girl. + +'Yes.' + +The little girl went away. Sophia Nikolaevna turned to me. + +'Tell me, please, all you know about Pasinkov.' I began telling her his +story. I sketched in brief words the whole life of my friend; tried, as +far as I was able, to give an idea of his soul; described his last +meeting with me and his end. + +'And a man like that,' I cried, as I finished my story--'has left us, +unnoticed, almost unappreciated! But that's no great loss. What is the +use of man's appreciation? What pains me, what wounds me, is that such +a man, with such a loving and devoted heart, is dead without having +once known the bliss of love returned, without having awakened interest +in one woman's heart worthy of him!... Such as I may well know nothing +of such happiness; we don't deserve it; but Pasinkov!... And yet +haven't I met thousands of men in my life, who could not compare with +him in any respect, who were loved? Must one believe that some faults +in a man--conceit, for instance, or frivolity--are essential to gain a +woman's devotion? Or does love fear perfection, the perfection possible +on earth, as something strange and terrible?' + +Sophia Nikolaevna heard me to the end, without taking her stern, +searching eyes off me, without moving her lips; only her eyebrows +contracted from time to time. + +'What makes you suppose,' she observed after a brief silence, 'that no +woman ever loved your friend?' + +'Because I know it, know it for a fact.' + +Sophia Nikolaevna seemed about to say something, but she stopped. She +seemed to be struggling with herself. + +'You are mistaken,' she began at last; 'I know a woman who loved your +dead friend passionately; she loves him and remembers him to this day +... and the news of his death will be a fearful blow for her.' + +'Who is this woman? may I know?' + +'My sister, Varia.' + +'Varvara Nikolaevna!' I cried in amazement. + +'Yes.' + +'What? Varvara Nikolaevna?' I repeated, 'that...' + +'I will finish your sentence,' Sophia Nikolaevna took me up; 'that girl +you thought so cold, so listless and indifferent, loved your friend; +that is why she has never married and never will marry. Till this day +no one has known of this but me; Varia would die before she would +betray her secret. In our family we know how to suffer in silence.' + +I looked long and intently at Sophia Nikolaevna, involuntarily +pondering on the bitter significance of her last words. + +'You have surprised me,' I observed at last. 'But do you know, Sophia +Nikolaevna, if I were not afraid of recalling disagreeable memories, I +might surprise you too....' + +'I don't understand you,' she rejoined slowly, and with some +embarrassment. + +'You certainly don't understand me,' I said, hastily getting up; 'and +so allow me, instead of verbal explanation, to send you something ...' + +'But what is it?' she inquired. + +'Don't be alarmed, Sophia Nikolaevna, it's nothing to do with me.' + +I bowed, and went back to my room, took out the little silken bag I had +taken off Pasinkov, and sent it to Sophia Nikolaevna with the following +note-- + +'This my friend wore always on his breast and died with it on him. In +it is the only note you ever wrote him, quite insignificant in its +contents; you can read it. He wore it because he loved you +passionately; he confessed it to me only the day before his death. Now, +when he is dead, why should you not know that his heart too was yours?' + +Elisei returned quickly and brought me back the relic. + +'Well?' I queried; 'didn't she send any message?' + +'No.' + +I was silent for a little. + +'Did she read my note?' + +'No doubt she did; the maid took it to her.' + +'Unapproachable,' I thought, remembering Pasinkov's last words. 'All +right, you can go,' I said aloud. + +Elisei smiled somewhat queerly and did not go. + +'There's a girl ...' he began, 'here to see you.' + +'What girl?' + +Elisei hesitated. + +'Didn't my master say anything to you?' + +'No.... What is it?' + +'When my master was in Novgorod,' he went on, fingering the door-post, +'he made acquaintance, so to say, with a girl. So here is this girl, +wants to see you. I met her the other day in the street. I said to her, +"Come along; if the master allows it, I'll let you see him." + +'Ask her in, ask her in, of course. But ... what is she like?' + +'An ordinary girl... working class... Russian.' + +'Did Yakov Ivanitch care for her?' + +'Well, yes ... he was fond of her. And she...when she heard my master +was dead, she was terribly upset. She's a good sort of girl.' + +'Ask her in, ask her in.' + +Elisei went out and at once came back. He was followed by a girl in a +striped cotton gown, with a dark kerchief on her head, that half hid +her face. On seeing me, she was much taken aback and turned away. + +'What's the matter?' Elisei said to her; 'go on, don't be afraid.' + +I went up to her and took her by the hand. + +'What is your name?' I asked her. + +'Masha,' she replied in a soft voice, stealing a glance at me. + +She looked about two- or three-and-twenty; she had a round, rather +simple-looking, but pleasant face, soft cheeks, mild blue eyes, and +very pretty and clean little hands. She was tidily dressed. + +'You knew Yakov Ivanitch?' I pursued. + +'I used to know him,' she said, tugging at the ends of her kerchief, +and the tears stood in her eyes. + +I asked her to sit down. + +She sat down at once on the edge of a chair, without any affectation of +ceremony. Elisei went out. + +'You became acquainted with him in Novgorod?' + +'Yes, in Novgorod,' she answered, clasping her hands under her +kerchief. 'I only heard the day before yesterday, from Elisei +Timofeitch, of his death. Yakov Ivanitch, when he went away to Siberia, +promised to write to me, and twice he did write, and then he wrote no +more. I would have followed him out to Siberia, but he didn't wish it.' + +'Have you relations in Novgorod?' + +'Yes.' + +'Did you live with them?' + +'I used to live with mother and my married sister; but afterwards +mother was cross with me, and my sister was crowded up, too; she has a +lot of children: and so I moved. I always rested my hopes on Yakov +Ivanitch, and longed for nothing but to see him, and he was always good +to me--you can ask Elisei Timofeitch.' + +Masha paused. + +'I have his letters,' she went on. 'Here, look.' She took several +letters out of her pocket, and handed them to me. 'Read them,' she +added. + +I opened one letter and recognised Pasinkov's hand. + +'Dear Masha!' (he wrote in large, distinct letters) 'you leaned your +little head against my head yesterday, and when I asked why you do so, +you told me--"I want to hear what you are thinking." I'll tell you what +I was thinking; I was thinking how nice it would be for Masha to learn +to read and write! She could make out this letter ...' + +Masha glanced at the letter. + +'That he wrote me in Novgorod,' she observed, 'when he was just going +to teach me to read. Look at the others. There's one from Siberia. +Here, read this.' + +I read the letters. They were very affectionate, even tender. In one of +them, the first one from Siberia, Pasinkov called Masha his best +friend, promised to send her the money for the journey to Siberia, and +ended with the following words--'I kiss your pretty little hands; the +girls here have not hands like yours; and their heads are no match for +yours, nor their hearts either.... Read the books I gave you, and think +of me, and I'll not forget you. You are the only, only girl that ever +cared for me; and so I want to belong only to you....' + +'I see he was very much attached to you,' I said, giving the letters +back to her. + +'He was very fond of me,' replied Masha, putting the letters carefully +into her pocket, and the tears flowed slowly down her cheeks. 'I always +trusted in him; if the Lord had vouchsafed him long life, he would not +have abandoned me. God grant him His heavenly peace!'... + +She wiped her eyes with a corner of her kerchief. + +'Where are you living now?' I inquired. + +'I'm here now, in Moscow; I came here with my mistress, but now I'm out +of a place. I did go to Yakov Ivanitch's aunt, but she is very poor +herself. Yakov Ivanitch used often to talk of you,' she added, getting +up and bowing; 'he always loved you and thought of you. I met Elisei +Timofeitch the day before yesterday, and wondered whether you wouldn't +be willing to assist me, as I'm out of a place just now....' + +'With the greatest pleasure, Maria ... let me ask, what's your name +from your father?' + +'Petrovna,' answered Masha, and she cast down her eyes. + +'I will do anything for you I can, Maria Petrovna,' I continued; 'I am +only sorry that I am a visitor here, and know few good families.' + +Masha sighed. + +'If I could get a situation of some sort ... I can't cut out, but I can +sew, so I'm always doing sewing ... and I can look after children too.' + +'Give her money,' I thought; 'but how's one to do it?' + +'Listen, Maria Petrovna,' I began, not without faltering; 'you must, +please, excuse me, but you know from Pasinkov's own words what a friend +of his I was ... won't you allow me to offer you--for the immediate +present--a small sum?' ... + +Masha glanced at me. + +'What?' she asked. + +'Aren't you in want of money?' I said. + +Masha flushed all over and hung her head. + +'What do I want with money?' she murmured; 'better get me a situation.' + +'I will try to get you a situation, but I can't answer for it for +certain; but you ought not to make any scruple, really ... I'm not like +a stranger to you, you know.... Accept this from me, in memory of our +friend....' + +I turned away, hurriedly pulled a few notes out of my pocket-book, and +handed them to her. + +Masha was standing motionless, her head still more downcast. + +'Take it,' I persisted. + +She slowly raised her eyes to me, looked me in the face mournfully, +slowly drew her pale hand from under her kerchief and held it out to +me. + +I laid the notes in her cold fingers. Without a word, she hid the hand +again under her kerchief, and dropped her eyes. + +'In future, Maria Petrovna,' I resumed, 'if you should be in want of +anything, please apply directly to me. I will give you my address.' + +'I humbly thank you,' she said, and after a short pause she added: 'He +did not speak to you of me?' + +'I only met him the day before his death, Maria Petrovna. But I'm not +sure ... I believe he did say something.' + +Masha passed her hand over her hair, pressed her cheek lightly, thought +a moment, and saying 'Good-bye,' walked out of the room. + +I sat at the table and fell into bitter musings. This Masha, her +relations with Pasinkov, his letters, the hidden love of Sophia +Nikolaevna's sister for him.... 'Poor fellow! poor fellow!' I +whispered, with a catching in my breath. I thought of all Pasinkov's +life, his childhood, his youth, Fraeulein Frederike.... 'Well,' I +thought, 'much fate gave to thee! much cause for joy!' + +Next day I went again to see Sophia Nikolaevna. I was kept waiting in +the ante-room, and when I entered, Lidia was already seated by her +mother. I understood that Sophia Nikolaevna did not wish to renew the +conversation of the previous day. + +We began to talk--I really don't remember what about--about the news of +the town, public affairs.... Lidia often put in her little word, and +looked slily at me. An amusing air of importance had suddenly become +apparent on her mobile little visage.... The clever little girl must +have guessed that her mother had intentionally stationed her at her +side. + +I got up and began taking leave. Sophia Nikolaevna conducted me to the +door. + +'I made you no answer yesterday,' she said, standing still in the +doorway; 'and, indeed, what answer was there to make? Our life is not +in our own hands; but we all have one anchor, from which one can never, +without one's own will, be torn--a sense of duty.' + +Without a word I bowed my head in sign of assent, and parted from the +youthful Puritan. + +All that evening I stayed at home, but I did not think of her; I kept +thinking and thinking of my dear, never-to-be-forgotten Pasinkov--the +last of the idealists; and emotions, mournful and tender, pierced with +sweet anguish into my soul, rousing echoes on the strings of a heart +not yet quite grown old.... Peace to your ashes, unpractical man, +simple-hearted idealist! and God grant to all practical men--to whom +you were always incomprehensible, and who, perhaps, will laugh even now +over you in the grave--God grant to them to experience even a hundredth +part of those pure delights in which, in spite of fate and men, your +poor and unambitious life was so rich! + + + + +ANDREI KOLOSOV + + +In a small, decently furnished room several young men were sitting +before the fire. The winter evening was only just beginning; the +samovar was boiling on the table, the conversation had hardly taken a +definite turn, but passed lightly from one subject to another. They +began discussing exceptional people, and in what way they differed from +ordinary people. Every one expounded his views to the best of his +abilities; they raised their voices and began to be noisy. A small, +pale man, after listening long to the disquisitions of his companions, +sipping tea and smoking a cigar the while, suddenly got up and +addressed us all (I was one of the disputants) in the following +words:-- + +'Gentlemen! all your profound remarks are excellent in their own way, +but unprofitable. + +Every one, as usual, hears his opponent's views, and every one retains +his own convictions. But it's not the first time we have met, nor the +first time we have argued, and so we have probably by now had ample +opportunity for expressing our own views and learning those of others. +Why, then, do you take so much trouble?' + +Uttering these words, the small man carelessly flicked the ash off his +cigar into the fireplace, dropped his eyelids, and smiled serenely. We +all ceased speaking. + +'Well, what are we to do then, according to you?' said one of us; 'play +cards, or what? go to sleep? break up and go home?' + +'Playing cards is agreeable, and sleep's always salutary,' retorted the +small man; 'but it's early yet to break up and go home. You didn't +understand me, though. Listen: I propose, if it comes to that, that +each of you should describe some exceptional personality, tell us of +any meeting you may have had with any remarkable man. I can assure you +even the feeblest description has far more sense in it than the finest +argument.' + +We pondered. + +'It's a strange thing,' observed one of us, an inveterate jester; +'except myself I don't know a single exceptional person, and with my +life you are all, I fancy, familiar already. However, if you insist--' + +'No!' cried another, 'we don't! But, I tell you what,' he added, +addressing the small man, 'you begin. You have put a stopper on all of +us, you're the person to fill the gap. Only mind, if we don't care for +your story, we shall hiss you.' + +'If you like,' answered the small man. He stood close to the fire; we +sat round him and kept quiet. The small man looked at all of us, +glanced at the ceiling, and began as follows:-- + +'Ten years ago, my dear friends, I was a student at Moscow. My father, +a virtuous landowner of the steppes, had handed me over to a retired +German professor, who, for a hundred roubles a month, undertook to +lodge and board me, and to watch over my morals. This German was the +fortunate possessor of an exceedingly solemn and decorous manner; at +first I went in considerable awe of him. But on returning home one +evening, I saw, with indescribable emotion, my preceptor sitting with +three or four companions at a round table, on which there stood a +fair-sized collection of empty bottles and half-full glasses. On seeing +me, my revered preceptor got up, and, waving his arms and stammering, +presented me to the honourable company, who all promptly offered me a +glass of punch. This agreeable spectacle had a most illuminating effect +on my intelligence; my future rose before me in the most seductive +images. And, as a fact, from that memorable day I enjoyed unbounded +freedom, and all but worried my preceptor to death. He had a wife who +always smelt of smoke and pickled cucumbers; she was still youngish, +but had not a single front tooth in her head. All German women, as we +know, very quickly lose those indispensable ornaments of the human +frame. I mention her, solely because she fell passionately in love with +me and fed me almost into my grave.' + +'To the point, to the point,' we shouted. 'Surely it's not your own +adventures you're going to tell us?' + +'No, gentlemen!' the small man replied composedly. 'I am an ordinary +mortal. And so I lived at my German's, as the saying is, in clover. I +did not attend lectures with too much assiduity, while at home I did +positively nothing. In a very short time, I had got to know all my +comrades and was on intimate terms with all of them. Among my new +friends was one rather decent and good-natured fellow, the son of a +town provost on the retired list. His name was Bobov. This Bobov got in +the habit of coming to see me, and seemed to like me. I, too ... do you +know, I didn't like him, nor dislike him; I was more or less +indifferent.... I must tell I hadn't in all Moscow a single relation, +except an old uncle, who used sometimes to ask me for money. I never +went anywhere, and was particularly afraid of women; I also avoided all +acquaintance with the parents of my college friends, ever after one +such parent (in my presence) pulled his son's hair--because a button +was off his uniform, while at the very time I hadn't more than six +buttons on my whole coat. In comparison with many of my comrades, I +passed for being a person of wealth; my father used to send me every +now and then small packets of faded blue notes, and consequently I not +only enjoyed a position of independence, but I was continually +surrounded by toadies and flatterers.... What am I saying?--why, for +that matter, so was my bobtail dog Armishka, who, in spite of his +setter pedigree, was so frightened of a shot, that the very sight of a +gun reduced him to indescribable misery. Like every young man, however, +I was not without that vague inward fermentation which usually, after +bringing forth a dozen more or less shapeless poems, passes off in a +peaceful and propitious manner. I wanted something, strove towards +something, and dreamed of something; I'll own I didn't know precisely +what it was I dreamed of. Now I understand what was lacking:--I felt my +loneliness, thirsted for the society of so-called live people; the word +Life waked echoes in my heart, and with a vague ache I listened to the +sound of it.... Valerian Nikitich, pass me a cigarette.' + +Lighting the cigarette, the small man continued: + +'One fine morning Bobov came running to me, out of breath: "Do you +know, old man, the great news? Kolosov has arrived." "Kolosov? and who +on earth is Mr. Kolosov?" + +'"You don't know him? Andriusha Kolosov! Come, old boy, let's go to him +directly. He came back last night from a holiday engagement." "But what +sort of fellow is he?" "An exceptional man, my boy, let me assure you!" +"An exceptional man," I answered; "then you go alone. I'll stop at +home. I know your exceptional men! A half-tipsy rhymester with an +everlastingly ecstatic smile!" ... "Oh no! Kolosov's not like that." I +was on the point of observing that it was for Mr. Kolosov to call on +me; but, I don't know why, I obeyed Bobov and went. Bobov conducted me +to one of the very dirtiest, crookedest, and narrowest streets in +Moscow.... The house in which Kolosov lodged was built in the +old-fashioned style, rambling and uncomfortable. We went into the +courtyard; a fat peasant woman was hanging out clothes on a line +stretched from the house to the fence.... Children were squalling on +the wooden staircase...' + +'Get on! get on!' we objected plaintively. + +'I see, gentlemen, you don't care for the agreeable, and cling solely +to the profitable. As you please! We groped our way through a dark and +narrow passage to Kolosov's room; we went in. You have most likely an +approximate idea of what a poor student's room is like. Directly facing +the door Kolosov was sitting on a chest of drawers, smoking a pipe. He +gave his hand to Bobov in a friendly way, and greeted me affably. I +looked at Kolosov and at once felt irresistibly drawn to him. +Gentlemen! Bobov was right: Kolosov really was a remarkable person. Let +me describe a little more in detail.... He was rather tall, slender, +graceful, and exceedingly good-looking. His face... I find it very +difficult to describe his face. It is easy to describe all the features +one by one; but how is one to convey to any one else what constitutes +the distinguishing characteristic, the essence of just _that_ face?' + +'What Byron calls "the music of the face,"' observed a tightly +buttoned-up, pallid gentleman. + +'Quite so.... And therefore I will confine myself to a single remark: +the especial "something" to which I have just referred consisted in +Kolosov's case in a carelessly gay and fearless expression of face, and +also in an exceedingly captivating smile. He did not remember his +parents, and had had a wretched bringing-up in the house of a distant +relative, who had been degraded from the service for taking bribes. Up +to the age of fifteen, he had lived in the country; then he found his +way into Moscow, and after two years spent in the care of an old deaf +priest's wife, he entered the university and began to get his living by +lessons. He gave instruction in history, geography, and Russian +grammar, though he had only a dim notion of these branches of science; +but in the first place, there is an abundance of 'textbooks' among us +in Russia, of the greatest usefulness to teachers; and secondly, the +requirements of the respectable merchants, who confided their +children's education to Kolosov, were exceedingly limited. Kolosov was +neither a wit nor a humorist; but you cannot imagine how readily we all +fell under that fellow's sway. We felt a sort of instinctive admiration +of him; his words, his looks, his gestures were all so full of the +charm of youth that all his comrades were head over ears in love with +him. The professors considered him as a fairly intelligent lad, but 'of +no marked abilities,' and lazy. + +Kolosov's presence gave a special harmony to our evening reunions. +Before him, our liveliness never passed into vulgar riotousness; if we +were all melancholy--this half childlike melancholy, in his presence, +led on to quiet, sometimes fairly sensible, conversation, and never +ended in dejected boredom. You are smiling, gentlemen--I understand +your smile; no doubt, many of us since then have turned out pretty +cads! But youth ... youth....' + + 'Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story! + The days of our youth are the days of our glory....' + +commented the same pallid gentleman. + +'By Jove, what a memory he's got! and all from Byron!' observed the +storyteller. 'In one word, Kolosov was the soul of our set. I was +attached to him by a feeling stronger than any I have ever felt for any +woman. And yet, I don't feel ashamed even now to remember that strange +love--yes, love it was, for I recollect I went through at that time all +the tortures of that passion, jealousy, for instance. Kolosov liked us +all equally, but was particularly friendly with a silent, +flaxen-haired, and unobtrusive youth, called Gavrilov. From Gavrilov he +was almost inseparable; he would often speak to him in a whisper, and +used to disappear with him out of Moscow, no one knew where, for two or +three days at a time.... Kolosov did not care to be questioned, and I +was lost in surmises. It was not simple curiosity that disturbed me. I +longed to become the friend, the attendant squire of Kolosov; I was +jealous of Gavrilov; I envied him; I could never find an explanation to +satisfy me of Kolosov's strange absences. Meanwhile he had none of that +air of mysteriousness about him, which is the proud possession of +youths endowed with vanity, pallor, black hair, and 'expressive' eyes, +nor had he anything of that studied carelessness under which we are +given to understand that vast forces are slumbering; no, he was quite +open and free; but when he was possessed by passion, an intense, +impulsive energy was apparent in everything about him; only he did not +waste his energies in vain, and never under any circumstances became +high-flown or affected. By the way ... tell me the truth, hasn't it +happened to you to sit smoking a pipe with an air of as weary solemnity +as if you had just resolved on a grand achievement, while you were +simply pondering on what colour to choose for your next pair of +trousers?... But the point is, that I was the first to observe in +Kolosov, always cheerful and friendly as he was, these instinctive, +passionate impulses.... They may well say that love is penetrating. I +made up my mind at all hazards to get into his confidence. It was no +use for me to lay myself out to please Kolosov; I had such a childlike +adoration for him that he could have no doubt of my devotion ... but to +my indescribable vexation, I had, at last, to yield to the conviction +that Kolosov avoided closer intimacy with me, that he was as it were +oppressed by my uninvited attachment. Once, when with obvious +displeasure he asked me to lend him money--the very next day he +returned me the loan with ironical gratitude. During the whole winter +my relations with Kolosov were utterly unchanged; I often compared +myself with Gavrilov, and could not make out in what respect he was +better than I.... But suddenly everything was changed. In the middle of +April, Gavrilov fell ill, and died in the arms of Kolosov, who never +left his room for an instant, and went nowhere for a whole week +afterwards. We were all grieved for poor Gavrilov; the pale, silent lad +seemed to have had a foreboding of his end. I too grieved sincerely for +him, but my heart ached with expectation of something.... One ever +memorable evening ... I was alone, lying on the sofa, gazing idly at +the ceiling ... some one rapidly opened the door of my room and stood +still in the doorway; I raised my head; before me stood Kolosov. + +He slowly came in and sat down beside me. 'I have come to you,' he +began in a rather thick voice, 'because you care more for me than any +of the others do.... I have lost my best friend'--his voice shook a +little--'and I feel lonely.... None of you knew Gavrilov ... none of +you knew....' He got up, paced up and down the room, came rapidly +towards me again.... 'Will you take his place?' he said, and gave me +his hand. I leaped up and flung myself on his breast. My genuine +delight touched him.... I did not know what to say, I was choking.... +Kolosov looked at me and softly laughed. We had tea. At tea he talked +of Gavrilov; I heard that that timid, gentle boy had saved Kolosov's +life, and I could not but own to myself that in Gavrilov's place I +couldn't have resisted chattering about it--boasting of my luck. It +struck eight. Kolosov got up, went to the window, drummed on the panes, +turned swiftly round to me, tried to say something ... and sat down on +a chair without a word. I took his hand. 'Kolosov, truly, truly I +deserve your confidence!' He looked straight into my eyes. 'Well, if +so,' he brought out at last, 'take your cap and come along.' 'Where +to?' 'Gavrilov did not ask me.' I was silent at once. 'Can you play at +cards?' 'Yes.' + +We went out, took a cab to one of the gates of the town. At the gate we +got out. Kolosov went on in front very quickly; I followed him. We +walked along the highroad. After we had gone three-quarters of a mile, +Kolosov turned off. Meanwhile night had come on. On the right in the +fog were the twinkling lights, the innumerable church-spires of the +immense city; on the left, two white horses were grazing in a meadow +skirting the forest: before us stretched fields covered with greyish +mists. I followed Kolosov in silence. He stopped all at once, stretched +his hand out in front of him, and said: 'Here, this is where we are +going.' I saw a small dark house; two little windows showed a dim light +in the fog. 'In this house,' Kolosov went on, 'lives a man called +Sidorenko, a retired lieutenant, with his sister, an old maid, and his +daughter. I shall pass you off as a relation of mine--you must sit +down and play at cards with him.' I nodded without a word. + +I wanted to show Kolosov that I could be as silent as Gavrilov.... But +I will own I was suffering agonies of curiosity. As we went up to the +steps of the house, I caught sight, at a lighted window, of the slender +figure of a girl.... She seemed waiting for us and vanished at once. We +went into a dark and narrow passage. A crooked, hunchback old woman +came to meet us, and looked at me with astonishment. 'Is Ivan +Semyonitch at home?' inquired Kolosov. 'He is at home.'... 'He is at +home!' called a deep masculine voice from within. We went into the +dining-room, if dining-room one can call the long, rather dirty room; a +small old piano huddled unassumingly in a corner beside the stove; a +few chairs stood out along the walls which had once been yellow. In the +middle of the room stood a tall, stooping man of fifty, in a greasy +dressing-gown. I looked at him more attentively: a morose looking +countenance, hair standing up like a brush, a low forehead, grey eyes, +immense whiskers, thick lips.... 'A nice customer!' I thought. 'It's a +longish time since we've seen you, Andrei Nikolaevitch,' he observed, +holding out his hideous red hand, 'a longish time it is! And where's +Sevastian Sevastianovitch?' 'Gavrilov is dead,' answered Kolosov +mournfully. 'Dead! you don't say so! And who's this?' 'My relation--I +have the honour to present to you Nikolai Alexei....' 'All right, all +right,' Ivan Semyonitch cut him short, 'delighted, delighted. And does +he play cards?' 'Play, of course he does!' 'Ah, then, that's capital; +we'll sit down directly. Hey! Matrona Semyonovna--where are you? the +card-table--quick!... And tea!' With these words Mr. Sidorenko walked +into the next room. Kolosov looked at me. 'Listen,' he said, 'you can't +think how ashamed I am!'... I shut him up. 'Come, you there, what's +your name, this way,' called Ivan Semyonitch. I went into the +drawing-room. The drawing-room was even smaller than the dining-room. +On the walls hung some monstrosities of portraits; in front of the +sofa, of which the stuffing protruded in several places, stood a green +table; on the sofa sat Ivan Semyonitch, already shuffling the cards. +Near him on the extreme edge of a low chair sat a spare woman in a +white cap and a black gown, yellow and wrinkled, with short-sighted +eyes and thin cat-like lips. 'Here,' said Ivan Semyonitch, 'let me +introduce him; the first man's dead; Andrei Nikolaevitch has brought us +another; let's see how he plays!' The old lady bowed awkwardly and +cleared her throat. I looked round; Kolosov was no longer in the room. +'Stop that coughing, Matrona Semyonovna; sheep cough,' grumbled +Sidorenko. I sat down; the game began. Mr. Sidorenko got fearfully hot +and furious at my slightest mistake; he pelted his sister with abusive +epithets, but she had apparently had time to get used to her brother's +amenities, and only blinked in response. But when he announced to +Matrona Semyonovna that she was 'Antichrist,' the poor old woman fired +up. 'Ivan Semyonitch,' she protested with heat, 'you were the death of +your wife, Anfisa Karpovna, but you shan't worry me into my grave!' +'Indeed?' 'No! you shan't.' 'Indeed?' 'No! you shan't.' They kept it up +in this fashion for some time. My position was, as you perceive, not +merely an unenviable one: it was positively idiotic. I couldn't +conceive what had induced Kolosov to bring me.... I have never been a +good card-player; but on that occasion I was aware myself that I was +playing excruciatingly badly. 'No!' the retired lieutenant repeated +continually,' you can't hold a candle to Sevastianovitch! No! you play +carelessly!' I, you may be sure, was inwardly wishing him at the devil. +This torture continued for two hours; they beat me hollow. Before the +end of the last rubber, I heard a slight sound behind my chair--I +looked round and saw Kolosov; beside him stood a girl of seventeen, who +was watching me with a scarcely perceptible smile. 'Fill me my pipe, +Varia,' muttered Ivan Semyonitch. The girl promptly flew off into the +other room. She was not very pretty, rather pale, rather thin; but +never before or since have I seen such hair, such eyes. We finished the +rubber somehow; I paid up, Sidorenko lighted his pipe and grumbled: + +'Well, now it's time for supper!' Kolosov presented me to Varia, that +is, to Varvara Ivanovna, the daughter of Ivan Semyonitch. Varia was +embarrassed; I too was embarrassed. But in a few minutes Kolosov, as +usual, had got everything and everyone into full swing; he sat Varia +down to the piano, begged her to play a dance tune, and proceeded to +dance a Cossack dance in competition with Ivan Semyonitch. The +lieutenant uttered little shrieks, stamped and cut such incredible +capers that even Matrona Semyonovna burst out laughing and retreated to +her own room upstairs. The hunchback old woman laid the table; we sat +down to supper. At supper Kolosov told all sorts of nonsensical +stories; the lieutenant's guffaws were deafening; I peeped from under +my eyelids at Varia. She never took her eyes off Kolosov ... and from +the expression of her face alone, I could divine that she both loved +him and was loved by him. Her lips were slightly parted, her head bent +a little forward, a faint colour kept flitting across her whole face; +from time to time she sighed deeply, suddenly dropped her eyes, and +softly laughed to herself.... I rejoiced for Kolosov.... But at the +same time, deuce take it, I was envious.... + +After supper, Kolosov and I promptly took up our caps, which did not, +however, prevent the lieutenant from saying, with a yawn: 'You've paid +us a long visit, gentlemen; it's time to say good-bye.' Varia +accompanied Kolosov into the passage: 'When are you coming, Andrei +Nikolaevitch?' she whispered to him. 'In a few days, for certain.' +'Bring him too,' she added, with a very sly smile. 'Of course, of +course.' ... 'Your humble servant!' thought I.... + +On the way home, I heard the following story. Six months before, +Kolosov had become acquainted with Mr. Sidorenko in a rather queer way. +One rainy evening, Kolosov was returning home from shooting, and had +reached the gate of the city, when suddenly, at no great distance from +the highroad, he heard groans, interspersed with curses. He had a gun; +without thinking long, he made straight for the sound, and found a man +lying on the ground with a dislocated ankle. This man was Mr. +Sidorenko. With great difficulty he got him home, handed him over to +the care of his frightened sister and his daughter, and ran for the +doctor.... Meantime it was nearly morning; Kolosov was almost dropping +with fatigue. With the permission of Matrona Semyonovna, he lay down on +the sofa in the parlour, and slept till eight o'clock. On waking up he +would at once have gone home; but they kept him and gave him some tea. +In the night he had twice succeeded in catching a glimpse of the pale +face of Varvara Ivanovna; he had not particularly noticed her, but in +the morning she made a decidedly agreeable impression on him. Matrona +Semyonovna garrulously praised and thanked Kolosov; Varvara sat silent, +pouring out the tea, glanced at him now and then, and with timid +shame-faced attentiveness handed him first a cup of tea, then the +cream, then the sugar-basin. Meanwhile the lieutenant waked up, loudly +called for his pipe, and after a short pause bawled: 'Sister! hi, +sister!' Matrona Semyonovna went to his bedroom. 'What about +that...what the devil's his name? is he gone?' 'No, I'm still here,' +answered Kolosov, going up to the door; 'are you better now?' 'Yes,' +answered the lieutenant; 'come in here, my good sir.' Kolosov went in. +Sidorenko looked at him, and reluctantly observed: 'Well, thanks; come +sometimes and see me--what's your name? who the devil's to know?' +'Kolosov,' answered Andrei. 'Well, well, come and see us; but it's no +use your sticking on here now, I daresay they're expecting you at +home.' Kolosov retreated, said good-bye to Matrona Semyonovna, bowed to +Varvara Ivanovna, and returned home. From that day he began to visit +Ivan Semyonitch, at first at long intervals, then more and more +frequently. The summer came on; he would sometimes take his gun, put on +his knapsack, and set off as if he were going shooting. He would go to +the retired lieutenant's, and stay on there till evening. + +Varvara Ivanovna's father had served twenty-five years in the army, had +saved a small sum of money, and bought himself a few acres of land a +mile and a half from Moscow. He could scarcely read and write; but in +spite of his external clumsiness and coarseness, he was shrewd and +cunning, and even, on occasion, capable of sharp practice, like many +Little Russians. He was a fearful egoist, obstinate as an ox, and in +general exceedingly impolite, especially with strangers; I even +detected in him something like a contempt for the whole human race. He +indulged himself in every caprice, like a spoilt child; would know no +one, and lived for his own pleasure. We were once somehow or other +talking about marriages with him; 'Marriage ... marriage,' said he; +'whom the devil would I let my daughter marry? Eh? what should I do it +for? for her husband to knock her about as I used to my wife? Besides, +whom should I be left with?' Such was the retired lieutenant, Ivan +Semyonitch. Kolosov used to go and see him, not on his account, of +course, but for the sake of his daughter. One fine evening, Andrei was +sitting in the garden with her, chatting about something; Ivan +Semyonitch went up to him, looked sullenly at Varia, and called Andrei +away. 'Listen, my dear fellow,' he said to him; 'you find it good fun, +I see, gossiping with my only child, but I'm dull in my old age; bring +some one with you, or I've nobody to deal a card to; d'ye hear? I +shan't give admittance to you by yourself.' The next day Kolosov turned +up with Gavrilov, and poor Sevastian Sevastianovitch had for a whole +autumn and winter been playing cards in the evenings with the retired +lieutenant; that worthy treated him without ceremony, as it is +called--in other words, fearfully rudely. You now probably realise why +it was that, after Gavrilov's death, Kolosov took me with him to Ivan +Semyonitch's. As he communicated all these details, Kolosov added, 'I +love Varia, she is the dearest girl; she liked you.' + +I have forgotten, I fancy, to make known to you that up to that time I +had been afraid of women and avoided them, though I would sometimes, in +solitude, spend whole hours in dreaming of tender interviews, of love, +of mutual love, and so on. Varvara Ivanovna was the first girl with +whom I was forced to talk, by necessity--by necessity it really was. +Varia was an ordinary girl, and yet there are very few such girls in +holy Russia. You will ask me--why so? Because I never noticed in her +anything strained, unnatural, affected; because she was a simple, +candid, rather melancholy creature, because one could never call her 'a +young lady.' I liked her soft smile; I liked her simple-hearted, +ringing little voice, her light and mirthful laugh, her attentive +though by no means 'profound' glances. The child promised nothing; but +you could not help admiring her, as you admire the sudden, soft cry of +the oriole at evening, in the lofty, dark birch-wood. I must confess +that at the present time I should pass by such a creature with some +indifference; I've no taste now for solitary evening strolls, and +orioles; but in those days ... + +I've no doubt, gentlemen, that, like all well-educated persons, you +have been in love at least once in the course of your life, and have +learnt from your own experience how love springs up and develops in the +human heart, and therefore I'm not going to enlarge too much on what +took place with me at that time. Kolosov and I used to go pretty often +to Ivan Semyonitch's; and though those damned cards often drove me to +utter despair, still, in the mere proximity of the woman one loves (I +had fallen in love with Varia) there is a sort of strange, sweet, +tormenting joy. I made no effort to suppress this growing feeling; +besides, by the time I had at last brought myself to call the emotion +by its true name, it was already too strong.... I cherished my love in +silence, and jealously and shyly concealed it. I myself enjoyed this +agonising ferment of silent passion. My sufferings did not rob me of my +sleep, nor of my appetite; but for whole days together I was conscious +of that peculiar physical sensation in my breast which is a symptom of +the presence of love. I am incapable of depicting the conflict of +various sensations which took place within me when, for example, +Kolosov came in from the garden with Varia, and her whole face was +aglow with ecstatic devotion, exhaustion from excess of bliss.... She +so completely lived in his life, was so completely taken up with him, +that unconsciously she adopted his ways, looked as he looked, laughed +as he laughed.... I can imagine the moments she passed with Andrei, the +raptures she owed to him.... While he ... Kolosov did not lose his +freedom; in her absence he did not, I suppose, even think of her; he +was still the same unconcerned, gay, and happy fellow we had always +known him. + +And, as I have already told you, we used, Kolosov and I, to go pretty +often to Ivan Semyonitch's. Sometimes, when he was out of humour, the +retired lieutenant did not make me sit down to cards; on such +occasions, he would shrink into a corner in silence, scowling and +looking crossly at every one. The first time I was delighted at his +letting me off so easily; but afterwards I would sometimes begin myself +begging him to sit down to whist, the part of third person was so +insupportable! I was so unpleasantly in Kolosov's and Varia's way, +though they did assure each other that there was no need to mind me!... + +Meanwhile time went on.... They were happy.... I have no great fondness +for describing other people's happiness. But then I began to notice +that Varia's childish ecstasy had gradually given way to a more +womanly, more restless feeling. I began to surmise that the new song +was being sung to the old tune--that is, that Kolosov was...little by +little...cooling. This discovery, I must own, delighted me; I did not +feel, I must confess, the slightest indignation against Andrei. + +The intervals between our visits became longer and longer.... Varia +began to meet us with tear-stained eyes. Reproaches were heard ... +Sometimes I asked Kolosov with affected indifference, 'Well, shall we +go to Ivan Semyonitch's to-day?' ... He looked coldly at me, and +answered quietly, 'No, we're not going.' I sometimes fancied that he +smiled slily when he spoke to me of Varia.... I failed generally to +fill Gavrilov's place with him.... Gavrilov was a thousand times more +good-natured and foolish than I. + +Now allow me a slight digression.... When I spoke of my university +comrades, I did not mention a certain Mr. Shtchitov. He was +five-and-thirty; he had been a student for ten years already. I can see +even now his rather long pale face, his little brown eyes, his long +hawk nose crooked at the end, his thin sarcastic lips, his solemn +upstanding shock of hair, and his chin that lost itself complacently in +the wide striped cravat of the colour of a raven's wing, the shirt +front with bronze buttons, the open blue frock-coat and striped +waistcoat.... I can hear his unpleasantly jarring laugh.... He went +everywhere, was conspicuous at all possible kinds of 'dancing classes.' +... I remember I could not listen to his cynical stories without a +peculiar shudder.... Kolosov once compared him to an unswept Russian +refreshment bar ... a horrible comparison! And with all that, there was +a lot of intelligence, common sense, observation, and wit in the +man.... He sometimes impressed us by some saying so apt, so true and +cutting, that we were all involuntarily reduced to silence and looked +at him with amazement. But, to be sure, it is just the same to a +Russian whether he has uttered an absurdity or a clever thing. +Shtchitov was especially dreaded by those self-conscious, dreamy, and +not particularly gifted youths who spend whole days in painfully +hatching a dozen trashy lines of verse and reading them in sing-song to +their 'friends,' and who despise every sort of positive science. One +such he simply drove out of Moscow, by continually repeating to him two +of his own lines. Yet all the while Shtchitov himself did nothing and +learnt nothing.... But that's all in the natural order of things. Well, +Shtchitov, God only knows why, began jeering at my romantic attachment +to Kolosov. The first time, with noble indignation, I told him to go to +the devil; the second time, with chilly contempt, I informed him that +he was not capable of judging of our friendship--but I did not send him +away; and when, on taking leave of me, he observed that without +Kolosov's permission I didn't even dare to praise him, I felt annoyed; +Shtchitov's last words sank into my heart.--For more than a fortnight I +had not seen Varia.... Pride, love, a vague anticipation, a number of +different feelings were astir within me ... with a wave of the hand and +a fearful sinking at my heart, I set off alone to Ivan Semyonitch's. + +I don't know how I made my way to the familiar little house; I remember +I sat down several times by the road to rest, not from fatigue, but +from emotion. I went into the passage, and had not yet had time to +utter a single word when the door of the drawing-room flew open and +Varia ran to meet me. 'At last,' she said, in a quavering voice; +'where's Andrei Nikolaevitch?' 'Kolosov has not come,' I muttered with +an effort. 'Not come!' she repeated. 'Yes ... he told me to tell you +that ... he was detained....' I positively did not know what I was +saying, and I did not dare to raise my eyes. Varia stood silent and +motionless before me. I glanced at her: she turned away her head; two +big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. In the expression of her face +there was such sudden, bitter suffering; the conflict between +bashfulness, sorrow, and confidence in me was so simply, so touchingly +apparent in the unconscious movement of her poor little head that it +sent a pang to my heart. I bent a little forward ... she gave a hurried +start and ran away. In the parlour I was met by Ivan Semyonitch. 'How's +this, my good sir, are you alone?' he asked me, with a queer twitch of +his left eyelid. 'Yes, I've come alone,' I stammered. Sidorenko went +off into a sudden guffaw and departed into the next room. + +I had never been in such a foolish position; it was too devilishly +disgusting! But there was nothing to be done. I began walking up and +down the room. 'What was the fat pig laughing at?' I wondered. Matrona +Semyonovna came into the room with a stocking in her hands and sat down +in the window. I began talking to her. Meanwhile tea was brought in. +Varia came downstairs, pale and sorrowful. The retired lieutenant made +jokes about Kolosov. 'I know,' said he, 'what sort of customer he is; +you couldn't tempt him here with lollipops now, I expect!' Varia +hurriedly got up and went away. Ivan Semyonitch looked after her and +gave a sly whistle. I glanced at him in perplexity. 'Can it be,' I +wondered, 'that he knows all about it?' And the lieutenant, as though +divining my thoughts, nodded his head affirmatively. Directly after tea +I got up and took leave. 'You, my good sir, we shall see again,' +observed the lieutenant. I did not say a word in reply.... I began to +feel simply frightened of the man. + +On the steps a cold and trembling hand clutched at mine; I looked +round: Varia. 'I must speak to you,' she whispered. 'Come to-morrow +rather earlier, straight into the garden. After dinner papa is asleep; +no one will interfere with us.' I pressed her hand without a word, and +we parted. + +Next day, at three o'clock in the afternoon, I was in Ivan Semyonitch's +garden. In the morning I had not seen Kolosov, though he had come to +see me. It was a grey autumn day, but soft and warm. Delicate yellow +blades of grass nodded over the blanching turf; the nimble tomtits were +hopping about the bare dark-brown twigs; some belated larks were +hurriedly running about the paths; a hare was creeping cautiously about +among the greens; a herd of cattle wandered lazily over the stubble. I +found Varia in the garden under the apple-tree on the little +garden-seat; she was wearing a dark dress, rather creased; her weary +eyes, the dejected droop of her hair, seemed to express genuine +suffering. + +I sat down beside her. We were both silent. For a long while she kept +twisting a twig in her hand; she bent her head, and uttered: 'Andrei +Nikolaevitch....' I noticed at once, by the twitching of her lips, that +she was getting ready to cry, and began consoling her, assuring her +hotly of Andrei's devotion.... She heard me, nodded her head +mournfully, articulated some indistinct words, and then was silent but +did not cry. The first moments I had dreaded most of all had gone off +fairly well. She began little by little to talk about Andrei. 'I know +that he does not love me now,' she repeated: 'God be with him! I can't +imagine how I am to live without him.... I don't sleep at nights, I +keep weeping.... What am I to do! What am I to do! ...' Her eyes filled +with tears. 'I thought him so kind ... and here ...' Varia wiped her +eyes, cleared her throat, and sat up. 'It seems such a little while +ago,' she went on: 'he was reading to me out of Pushkin, sitting with +me on this bench....' Varia's naive communicativeness touched me. I +listened in silence to her confessions; my soul was slowly filled with +a bitter, torturing bliss; I could not take my eyes off that pale face, +those long, wet eyelashes, and half-parted, rather parched lips.... And +meanwhile I felt ... Would you care to hear a slight psychological +analysis of my emotions at that moment? in the first place I was +tortured by the thought that it was not I that was loved, not I that as +making Varia suffer: secondly, I was delighted at her confidence; I +knew she would be grateful to me for giving her an opportunity of +expressing her sorrow: thirdly, I was inwardly vowing to myself to +bring Kolosov and Varia together again, and was deriving consolation +from the consciousness of my magnanimity ... in the fourth place, I +hoped, by my self-sacrifice, to touch Varia's heart; and then ... You +see I do not spare myself; no, thank God! it's high time! + +But from the bell-tower of the monastery near it struck five o'clock; +the evening was coming on rapidly. Varia got up hastily, thrust a +little note into my hand, and went off towards the house. I overtook +her, promised to bring Andrei to her, and stealthily, like a happy +lover, crept out by the little gate into the field. On the note was +written in an unsteady hand the words: To Andrei Nikolaevitch. + +Next day I set off early in the morning to Kolosov's. I'm bound to +confess that, although I assured myself that my intentions were not +only honourable, but positively brimful of great-hearted +self-sacrifice, I was yet conscious of a certain awkwardness, even +timidity. I arrived at Kolosov's. There was with him a fellow called +Puzyritsin, a former student who had never taken his degree, one of +those authors of sensational novels of the so-called 'Moscow' or 'grey' +school. Puzyritsin was a very good-natured and shy person, and was +always preparing to be an hussar, in spite of his thirty-three years. +He belonged to that class of people who feel it absolutely necessary, +once in the twenty-four hours, to utter a phrase after the pattern of, +'The beautiful always falls into decay in the flower of its splendour; +such is the fate of the beautiful in the world,' in order to smoke his +pipe with redoubled zest all the rest of the day in a circle of 'good +comrades.' On this account he was called an idealist. Well, so +Puzyritsin was sitting with Kolosov reading him some 'fragment.' I +began to listen; it was all about a youth, who loves a maiden, kills +her, and so on. At last Puzyritsin finished and retreated. His absurd +production, solemnly bawling voice, his presence altogether, had put +Kolosov into a mood of sarcastic irritability. I felt that I had come +at an unlucky moment, but there was nothing to be done for it; without +any kind of preface, I handed Andrei Varia's note. + +Kolosov looked at me in perplexity, tore open the note, ran his eyes +over it, said nothing, but smiled composedly. 'Oh, ho!' he said at +last; 'so you've been at Ivan Semyonitch's?' + +'Yes, I was there yesterday, alone,' I answered abruptly and +resolutely. + +'Ah!...' observed Kolosov ironically, and he lighted his pipe. +'Andrei,' I said to him, 'aren't you sorry for her?... If you had seen +her tears...' + +And I launched into an eloquent description of my visit of the previous +day. I was genuinely moved. Kolosov did not speak, and smoked his pipe. + +'You sat with her under the apple-tree in the garden,' he said at last. +'I remember in May I, too, used to sit with her on that seat.... The +apple-tree was in blossom, the fresh white flowers fell upon us +sometimes; I held both Varia's hands... we were happy then.... Now the +apple-blossom is over, and the apples on the tree are sour.' + +I flew into a passion of noble indignation, began reproaching Andrei +for coldness, for cruelty, argued with him that he had no right to +abandon a girl so suddenly, after awakening in her a multitude of new +emotions; I begged him at least to go and say good-bye to Varia. +Kolosov heard me to the end. + +'Admitting,' he said to me, when, agitated and exhausted, I flung +myself into an armchair, 'that you, as my friend, may be allowed to +criticise me. But hear my defence, at least, though...' + +Here he paused for a little while and smiled curiously. 'Varia's an +excellent girl,' he went on, 'and has done me no wrong whatever.... On +the contrary, I am greatly, very greatly indebted to her. I have left +off going to see her for a very simple reason--I have left off caring +for her....' + +'But why? why?' I interrupted him. + +'Goodness knows why. While I loved her, I was entirely hers; I never +thought of the future, and everything, my whole life, I shared with her +... now this passion has died out in me.... Well, you would tell me to +be a humbug, to play at being in love, wouldn't you? But what for? from +pity for her? If she's a decent girl, she won't care for such charity +herself, but if she is glad to be consoled by my ... my sympathy, well, +she's not good for much!' + +Kolosov's carelessly offhand expressions offended me, perhaps, the more +because they were applied to the woman with whom I was secretly in +love.... I fired up. 'Stop,' I said to him; 'stop! I know why you have +given up going to see Varia.' + +'Why?' + +'Taniusha has forbidden you to.' + +In uttering these words, I fancied I was dealing a most cutting blow at +Andrei. Taniusha was a very 'easy-going' young lady, black-haired, +dark, five-and-twenty, free in her manners, and devilishly clever, a +Shtchitov in petticoats. Kolosov quarrelled with her and made it up +again half a dozen times in a month. She was passionately fond of him, +though sometimes, during their misunderstandings, she would vow and +declare that she thirsted for his blood.... And Andrei, too, could not +get on without her. Kolosov looked at me, and responded serenely, +'Perhaps so.' + +'Not perhaps so,' I shouted, 'but certainly!' + +Kolosov at last got sick of my reproaches.... He got up and put on his +cap. + +'Where are you going?' + +'For a walk; you and Puzyritsin have given me a headache between you.' + +'You are angry with me?' + +'No,' he answered, smiling his sweet smile, and holding out his hand to +me. + +'Well, anyway, what do you wish me to tell Varia?' + +'Eh?' ... He thought a little. 'She told you,' he said, 'that we had +read Pushkin together.... Remind her of one line of Pushkin's.' 'What +line? what line?' I asked impatiently. 'This one: + + "What has been will not be again."' + +With those words he went out of the room. I followed him; on the stairs +he stopped. + +'And is she very much upset?' he asked me, pulling his cap over his +eyes. + +'Very, very much!...' + +'Poor thing! Console her, Nikolai; you love her, you know.' + +'Yes, I have grown fond of her, certainly....' + +'You love her,' repeated Kolosov, and he looked me straight in the +face. I turned away without a word, and we separated. + +On reaching home, I was in a perfect fever. + +'I have done my duty,' I thought; 'I have overcome my own egoism; I +have urged Andrei to go back to Varia!... Now I am in the right; he +that will not when he may...!' At the same time Andrei's indifference +wounded me. He had not been jealous of me, he told me to console +her.... But is Varia such an ordinary girl, is she not even worthy of +sympathy?... There are people who know how to appreciate what you +despise, Andrei Nikolaitch!... But what's the good? She does not love +me.... No, she does not love me now, while she has not quite lost hope +of Kolosov's return.... But afterwards...who knows, my devotion will +touch her. I will make no claims.... I will give myself up to her +wholly, irrevocably.... Varia! is it possible you will not love +me?...never!...never!... + +Such were the speeches your humble servant was rehearsing in the city +of Moscow, in the year 1833, in the house of his revered preceptor. I +wept... I felt faint... The weather was horrible...a fine rain trickled +down the window panes with a persistent, thin, little patter; damp, +dark-grey storm-clouds hung stationary over the town. I dined +hurriedly, made no response to the anxious inquiries of the kind German +woman, who whimpered a little herself at the sight of my red, swollen +eyes (Germans--as is well known--are always glad to weep). I behaved +very ungraciously to my preceptor...and at once after dinner set off to +Ivan Semyonitch... Bent double in a jolting droshky, I kept asking +myself whether I should tell Varia all as it was, or go on deceiving +her, and little by little turn her heart from Andrei... I reached Ivan +Semyonitch's without knowing what to decide upon... I found all the +family in the parlour. On seeing me, Varia turned fearfully white, but +did not move from her place; Sidorenko began talking to me in a +peculiarly jeering way. I responded as best I could, looking from time +to time at Varia, and almost unconsciously giving a dejected and +pensive expression to my features. The lieutenant started whist again. +Varia sat near the window and did not stir. 'You're dull now, I +suppose?' Ivan Semyonitch asked her twenty times over. + +At last I succeeded in seizing a favourable opportunity. + +'You are alone again,' Varia whispered to me. + +'Yes,' I answered gloomily; 'and probably for long.' + +She swiftly drew in her head. + +'Did you give him my letter?' she asked in a voice hardly audible. + +'Yes.' + +'Well?'... she gasped for breath. I glanced at her.... There was a +sudden flash of spiteful pleasure within me. + +'He told me to tell you,' I pronounced deliberately, 'that "what has +been will not be again...."' + +Varia pressed her left hand to her heart, stretched her right hand out +in front, staggered, and went quickly out of the room. I tried to +overtake her.... Ivan Semyonitch stopped me. I stayed another two hours +with him, but Varia did not appear. On the way back I felt ashamed ... +ashamed before Varia, before Andrei, before myself; though they say it +is better to cut off an injured limb at once than to keep the patient +in prolonged suffering; but who gave me a right to deal such a +merciless blow at the heart of a poor girl?... For a long while I could +not sleep ... but I fell asleep at last. In general I must repeat that +'love' never once deprived me of sleep. + +I began to go pretty often to Ivan Semyonitch's. I used to see Kolosov +as before, but neither he nor I ever referred to Varia. My relations +with her were of a rather curious kind. She became attached to me with +that sort of attachment which excludes every possibility of love. She +could not help noticing my warm sympathy, and talked eagerly with me +... of what, do you suppose?... of Kolosov, nothing but Kolosov! The +man had taken such possession of her that she did not, as it were, +belong to herself. I tried in vain to arouse her pride ... she was +either silent or, if she talked--chattered on about Kolosov. I did not +even suspect in those days that sorrow of that kind--talkative +sorrow--is in reality far more genuine than any silent suffering. I +must own I passed many bitter moments at that time. I was conscious +that I was not capable of filling Kolosov's place; I was conscious that +Varia's past was so full, so rich ... and her present so poor.... I got +to the point of an involuntary shudder at the words 'Do you remember' +... with which almost every sentence of hers began. She grew a little +thinner during the first days of our acquaintance ... but afterwards +got better again, and even grew cheerful; she might have been compared +then with a wounded bird, not yet quite recovered. Meanwhile my +position had become insupportable; the lowest passions gradually gained +possession of my soul; it happened to me to slander Kolosov in Varia's +presence. I resolved to cut short such unnatural relations. But how? +Part from Varia--I could not.... Declare my love to her--I did not +dare; I felt that I could not, as yet, hope for a return. Marry her.... +This idea alarmed me; I was only eighteen; I felt a dread of putting +all my future into bondage so early; I thought of my father, I could +hear the jeering comments of Kolosov's comrades.... But they say every +thought is like dough; you have only to knead it well--you can make +anything you like of it. I began, for whole days together, to dream of +marriage.... I imagined what gratitude would fill Varia's heart when I, +the friend and confidant of Kolosov, should offer her my hand, knowing +her to be hopelessly in love with another. Persons of experience, I +remembered, had told me that marriage for love is a complete absurdity; +I began to indulge my fancy; I pictured to myself our peaceful life +together in some snug corner of South Russia; an mentally I traced the +gradual transition in Varia's heart from gratitude to affection, from +affection to love.... I vowed to myself at once to leave Moscow, the +university, to forget everything and every one. I began to avoid +meeting Kolosov. + +At last, one bright winter day (Varia had been somehow peculiarly +enchanting the previous evening), I dressed myself in my best, slowly +and solemnly sallied out from my room, took a first-rate sledge, and +drove down to Ivan Semyonitch's. Varia was sitting alone in the +drawing-room reading Karamzin. On seeing me she softly laid the book +down on her knees, and with agitated curiosity looked into my face; I +had never been to see them in the morning before.... I sat down beside +her; my heart beat painfully. 'What are you reading?' I asked her at +last. 'Karamzin.' 'What, are you taking up Russian literature?...' She +suddenly cut me short. 'Tell me, haven't you come from Andrei?' That +name, that trembling, questioning voice, the half-joyful, half-timid +expression of her face, all these unmistakable signs of persistent +love, pierced to my heart like arrows. I resolved either to part from +Varia, or to receive from her herself the right to chase the hated name +of Andrei from her lips for ever. I do not remember what I said to her; +at first I must have expressed myself in rather confused fashion, as +for a long while she did not understand me; at last I could stand it no +longer, and almost shouted, 'I love you, I want to marry you.' 'You +love me?' said Varia in bewilderment. I fancied she meant to get up, to +go away, to refuse me. 'For God's sake,' I whispered breathlessly, +'don't answer me, don't say yes or no; think it over; to-morrow I will +come again for a final answer.... I have long loved you. I don't ask of +you love, I want to be your champion, your friend; don't answer me now, +don't answer.... Till to-morrow.' With these words I rushed out of the +room. In the passage Ivan Semyonitch met me, and not only showed no +surprise at my visit, but positively, with an agreeable smile, offered +me an apple. Such unexpected amiability so struck me that I was simply +dumb with amazement. 'Take the apple, it's a nice apple, really!' +persisted Ivan Semyonitch. Mechanically I took the apple at last, and +drove all the way home with it in my hand. + +You may easily imagine how I passed all that day and the following +morning. That night I slept rather badly. 'My God! my God!' I kept +thinking; 'if she refuses me! ... I shall die.... I shall die....' I +repeated wearily. 'Yes, she will certainly refuse me.... And why was I +in such a hurry!'... Wishing to turn my thoughts, I began to write a +letter to my father--a desperate, resolute letter. Speaking of myself, +I used the expression 'your son.' Bobov came in to see me. I began +weeping on his shoulder, which must have surprised poor Bobov not a +little.... I afterwards learned that he had come to me to borrow money +(his landlord had threatened to turn him out of the house); he had no +choice but to hook it, as the students say.... + +At last the great moment arrived. On going out of my room, I stood +still in the doorway. 'With what feelings,' thought I, 'shall I cross +this threshold again to-day?' ... My emotion at the sight of Ivan +Semyonitch's little house was so great that I got down, picked up a +handful of snow and pressed it to my face. 'Oh, heavens!' I thought, +'if I find Varia alone--I am lost!' My legs were giving way under me; I +could hardly get to the steps. Things were as I had hoped. I found +Varia in the parlour with Matrona Semyonovna. I made my bows awkwardly, +and sat down by the old lady. Varia's face was rather paler than +usual.... I fancied that she tried to avoid my eyes.... But what were +my feelings when Matrona Semyonovna suddenly got up and went into the +next room!... I began looking out of the window--I was trembling +inwardly like an autumn leaf. Varia did not speak.... At last I +mastered my timidity, went up to her, bent my head.... + +'What are you going to say to me?' I articulated in a breaking voice. + +Varia turned away--the tears were glistening on her eyelashes. + +'I see,' I went on, 'it's useless for me to hope.'... + +Varia looked shyly round and gave me her hand without a word. + +'Varia!' I cried involuntarily...and stopped, as though frightened at +my own hopes. + +'Speak to papa,' she articulated at last. + +'You permit me to speak to Ivan Semyonitch?' ... + +'Yes.'... I covered her hands with kisses. + +'Don't, don't,' whispered Varia, and suddenly burst into tears. + +I sat down beside her, talked soothingly to her, wiped away her +tears.... Luckily, Ivan Semyonitch was not at home, and Matrona +Semyonovna had gone up to her own little room. I made vows of love, of +constancy to Varia. + +...'Yes,' she said, suppressing her sobs and continually wiping her +eyes; 'I know you are a good man, an honest man; you are not like +Kolosov.'... 'That name again!' thought I. But with what delight I +kissed those warm, damp little hands! with what subdued rapture I gazed +into that sweet face!... I talked to her of the future, walked about +the room, sat down on the floor at her feet, hid my eyes in my hands, +and shuddered with happiness.... Ivan Semyonitch's heavy footsteps cut +short our conversation. Varia hurriedly got up and went off to her own +room--without, however, pressing my hand or glancing at me. Mr. +Sidorenko was even more amiable than on the previous day: he laughed, +rubbed his stomach, made jokes about Matrona Semyonovna, and so on. I +was on the point of asking for his blessing there and then, but I +thought better of it and deferred doing so till the next day. His +ponderous jokes jarred upon me; besides I was exhausted.... I said +good-bye to him and went away. + +I am one of those persons who love brooding over their own sensations, +though I cannot endure such persons myself. And so, after the first +transport of heartfelt joy, I promptly began to give myself up to all +sorts of reflections. When I had got half a mile from the house of the +retired lieutenant, I flung my hat up in the air, in excessive delight, +and shouted 'Hurrah!' But while I was being jolted through the long, +crooked streets of Moscow, my thoughts gradually took another turn. All +sorts of rather sordid doubts began to crowd upon my mind. I recalled +my conversation with Ivan Semyonitch about marriage in general ... and +unconsciously I murmured to myself, 'So he was putting it on, the old +humbug!' It is true that I continually repeated, 'but then Varia is +mine! mine!' ... Yet that 'but'--alas, that _but_!--and then, too, the +words, 'Varia is mine!' aroused in me not a deep, overwhelming rapture, +but a sort of paltry, egoistic triumph.... If Varia had refused me +point-blank, I should have been burning with furious passion; but +having received her consent, I was like a man who has just said to a +guest, 'Make yourself at home,' and sees the guest actually beginning +to settle into his room, as if he were at home. 'If she had loved +Kolosov,' I thought, 'how was it she consented so soon? It's clear +she's glad to marry any one.... Well, what of it? all the better for +me.'... It was with such vague and curious feelings that I crossed the +threshold of my room. Possibly, gentlemen, my story does not strike you +as sounding true. + +I don't know whether it sounds true or not, but I know that all I have +told is the absolute and literal truth. However, I gave myself up all +that day to a feverish gaiety, assured myself that I simply did not +deserve such happiness; but next morning.... + +A wonderful thing is sleep! It not only renews one's body: in a way it +renews one's soul, restoring it to primaeval simplicity and +naturalness. In the course of the day you succeed in _tuning_ yourself, +in soaking yourself in falsity, in false ideas ... sleep with its cool +wave washes away all such pitiful trashiness; and on waking up, at +least for the first few instants, you are capable of understanding and +loving truth. I waked up, and, reflecting on the previous day, I felt a +certain discomfort.... I was, as it were, ashamed of all my own +actions. With instinctive uneasiness I thought of the visit to be made +that day, of my interview with Ivan Semyonitch.... This uneasiness was +acute and distressing; it was like the uneasiness of the hare who hears +the barking of the dogs and is bound at last to run out of his native +forest into the open country...and there the sharp teeth of the +harriers are awaiting him.... 'Why was I in such a hurry?' I repeated, +just as I had the day before, but in quite a different sense. I +remember the fearful difference between yesterday and to-day struck +myself; for the first time it occurred to me that in human life there +lie hid secrets--strange secrets.... With childish perplexity I gazed +into this new, not fantastic, real world. By the word 'real' many +people understand 'trivial.' Perhaps it sometimes is so; but I must own +that the first appearance of _reality_ before me shook me profoundly, +scared me, impressed me.... + +What fine-sounding phrases all about love that didn't come off, to use +Gogol's expression! ... I come back to my story. In the course of that +day I assured myself again that I was the most blissful of mortals. I +drove out of the town to Ivan Semyonitch's. He received me very +gleefully; he had been meaning to go and see a neighbour, but I myself +stopped him. I was afraid to be left alone with Varia. The evening was +cheerful, but not reassuring. Varia was neither one thing nor the +other, neither cordial nor melancholy ... neither pretty nor plain. I +looked at her, as the philosophers say, objectively--that is to say, as +the man who has dined looks at the dishes. I thought her hands were +rather red. Sometimes, however, my heart warmed, and watching her I +gave way to other dreams and reveries. I had only just made her an +offer, as it is called, and here I was already feeling as though we +were living as husband and wife ... as though our souls already made up +one lovely whole, belonged to one another, and consequently were trying +each to seek out a separate path for itself.... + +'Well, have you spoken to papa?' Varia said to me, as soon as we were +left alone. + +This inquiry impressed me most disagreeably.... I thought to myself, +'You're pleased to be in a desperate hurry, Varvara Ivanovna.' + +'Not yet,' I answered, rather shortly, 'but I will speak to him.' + +Altogether I behaved rather casually with her. In spite of my promise, +I said nothing definite to Ivan Semyonitch. As I was leaving, I pressed +his hand significantly, and informed him that I wanted to have a little +talk with him ... that was all.... 'Good-bye!' I said to Varia. + +'Till we meet!' said she. + +I will not keep you long in suspense, gentlemen; I am afraid of +exhausting your patience.... We never met again. I never went back to +Ivan Semyonitch's. The first days, it is true, of my voluntary +separation from Varia did not pass without tears, self-reproach, and +emotion; I was frightened myself at the rapid drooping of my love; +twenty times over I was on the point of starting off to see her. +Vividly I pictured to myself her amazement, her grief, her wounded +feelings; but--I never went to Ivan Semyonitch's again. In her absence +I begged her forgiveness, fell on my knees before her, assured her of +my profound repentance--and once, when I met a girl in the street +slightly resembling her, I took to my heels without looking back, and +only breathed freely in a cook-shop after the fifth jam-puff. The word +'to-morrow' was invented for irresolute people, and for children; like +a baby, I lulled myself with that magic word. 'To-morrow I will go to +her, whatever happens,' I said to myself, and ate and slept well +to-day. I began to think a great deal more about Kolosov than about +Varia ... everywhere, continually, I saw his open, bold, careless face. +I began going to see him as before. He gave me the same welcome as +ever. But how deeply I felt his superiority to me! How ridiculous I +thought all my fancies, my pensive melancholy, during the period of +Kolosov's connection with Varia, my magnanimous resolution to bring +them together again, my anticipations, my raptures, my remorse!... I +had played a wretched, drawn-out part of screaming farce, but he had +passed so simply, so well, through it all.... + +You will say, 'What is there wonderful in that? your Kolosov fell in +love with a girl, then fell out of love again, and threw her over.... +Why, that happens with everybody....' Agreed; but which of us knows +just when to break with our past? Which of us, tell me, is not afraid +of the reproaches--I don't mean of the woman--the reproaches of every +chance fool? Which of us is proof against the temptation of making a +display of magnanimity, or of playing egoistically with another devoted +heart? Which of us, in fact, has the force of character to be superior +to petty vanity, to _petty fine feelings_, sympathy and +self-reproach?... Oh, gentlemen, the man who leaves a woman at that +great and bitter moment when he is forced to recognise that his heart +is not altogether, not fully, hers, that man, believe me, has a truer +and deeper comprehension of the sacredness of love than the +faint-hearted creatures who, from dulness or weakness, go on playing on +the half-cracked strings of their flabby and sentimental hearts! At the +beginning of my story I told you that we all considered Andrei Kolosov +an extraordinary man. And if a clear, simple outlook upon life, if the +absence of every kind of cant in a young man, can be called an +extraordinary thing, Kolosov deserved the name. At a certain age, to be +natural is to be extraordinary.... It is time to finish, though. I +thank you for your attention.... Oh, I forgot to tell you that three +months after my last visit I met the old humbug Ivan Semyonitch. I +tried, of course, to glide hurriedly and unnoticed by him, but yet I +could not help overhearing the words, 'Feather-headed scoundrels!' +uttered angrily. + +'And what became of Varia?' asked some one. + +'I don't know,' answered the story-teller. + +We all got up and separated. + +1864. + + + + +A CORRESPONDENCE + + +A few years ago I was in Dresden. I was staying at an hotel. From early +morning till late evening I strolled about the town, and did not think +it necessary to make acquaintance with my neighbours; at last it +reached my ears in some chance way that there was a Russian in the +hotel--lying ill. I went to see him, and found a man in galloping +consumption. I had begun to be tired of Dresden; I stayed with my new +acquaintance. It's dull work sitting with a sick man, but even dulness +is sometimes agreeable; moreover, my patient was not low-spirited and +was very ready to talk. We tried to kill time in all sorts of ways; We +played 'Fools,' the two of us together, and made fun of the doctor. My +compatriot used to tell this very bald-headed German all sorts of +fictions about himself, which the doctor had always 'long ago +anticipated.' He used to mimic his astonishment at any new, exceptional +symptom, to throw his medicines out of window, and so on. I observed +more than once, however, to my friend that it would be as well to send +for a good doctor before it was too late, that his complaint was not to +be trifled with, and so on. But Alexey (my new friend's name was Alexey +Petrovitch S----) always turned off my advice with jests at the expense +of doctors in general, and his own in particular; and at last one rainy +autumn evening he answered my urgent entreaties with such a mournful +look, he shook his head so sorrowfully and smiled so strangely, that I +felt somewhat disconcerted. The same night Alexey was worse, and the +next day he died. Just before his death his usual cheerfulness deserted +him; he tossed about uneasily in his bed, sighed, looked round him in +anguish ... clutched at my hand, and whispered with an effort, 'But +it's hard to die, you know ... dropped his head on the pillow, and shed +tears. I did not know what to say to him, and sat in silence by his +bed. But Alexey soon got the better of these last, late regrets.... 'I +say,' he said to me, 'our doctor'll come to-day and find me dead.... I +can fancy his face.'... And the dying man tried to mimic him. He asked +me to send all his things to Russia to his relations, with the +exception of a small packet which he gave me as a souvenir. + +This packet contained letters--a girl's letters to Alexey, and copies +of his letters to her. There were fifteen of them. Alexey Petrovitch +S---- had known Marya Alexandrovna B---- long before, in their +childhood, I fancy. Alexey Petrovitch had a cousin, Marya Alexandrovna +had a sister. In former years they had all lived together; then they +had been separated, and had not seen each other for a long while. Later +on, they had chanced one summer to be all together again in the +country, and they had fallen in love--Alexey's cousin with Marya +Alexandrovna, and Alexey with her sister. The summer had passed by, the +autumn came; they parted. Alexey, like a sensible person, soon came to +the conclusion that he was not in love at all, and had effected a very +satisfactory parting from his charmer. His cousin had continued writing +to Marya Alexandrovna for nearly two years longer ... but he too +perceived at last that he was deceiving her and himself in an +unconscionable way, and he too dropped the correspondence. + +I could tell you something about Marya Alexandrovna, gentle reader, but +you will find out what she was from her letters. Alexey wrote his first +letter to her soon after she had finally broken with his cousin. He was +at that time in Petersburg; he went suddenly abroad, fell ill, and died +at Dresden. I resolved to print his correspondence with Marya +Alexandrovna, and trust the reader will look at it with indulgence, as +these letters are not love-letters--Heaven forbid! Love-letters are as +a rule only read by two persons (they read them over a thousand times +to make up), and to a third person they are unendurable, if not +ridiculous. + + +I + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _March_ 7, 1840. + + +DEAR MARYA ALEXANDROVNA,-- + +I fancy I have never written to you before, and here I am writing to +you now.... I have chosen a curious time to begin, haven't I? I'll tell +you what gave me the impulse. Mon cousin Theodore was with me to-day, +and...how shall I put it?...and he confided to me as the greatest +secret (he never tells one anything except as a great secret), that he +was in love with the daughter of a gentleman here, and that this time +he is firmly resolved to be married, and that he has already taken the +first step--he has declared himself! I made haste, of course, to +congratulate him on an event so agreeable for him; he has been longing +to declare himself for a great while...but inwardly, I must own, I was +rather astonished. Although I knew that everything was over between +you, still I had fancied.... In short, I was surprised. I had made +arrangements to go out to see friends to-day, but I have stopped at +home and mean to have a little gossip with you. If you do not care to +listen to me, fling this letter forthwith into the fire. I warn you I +mean to be frank, though I feel you are fully justified in taking me +for a rather impertinent person. Observe, however, that I would not +have taken up my pen if I had not known your sister was not with you; +she is staying, so Theodore told me, the whole summer with your aunt, +Madame B---. God give her every blessing! + +And so, this is how it has all worked out.... But I am not going to +offer you my friendship and all that; I am shy as a rule of +high-sounding speeches and 'heartfelt' effusions. In beginning to write +this letter, I simply obeyed a momentary impulse. If there is another +feeling latent within me, let it remain hidden under a bushel for the +time. + +I'm not going to offer you sympathy either. In sympathising with +others, people for the most part want to get rid, as quick as they can, +of an unpleasant feeling of involuntary, egoistic regret.... I +understand genuine, warm sympathy ... but such sympathy you would not +accept from just any one.... Do, please, get angry with me.... If +you're angry, you'll be sure to read my missive to the end. + +But what right have I to write to you, to talk of my friendship, of my +feelings, of consolation? None, absolutely none; that I am bound to +admit, and I can only throw myself on your kindness. + +Do you know what the preface of my letter's like? I'll tell you: some +Mr. N. or M. walking into the drawing-room of a lady who doesn't in the +least expect him, and who does, perhaps, expect some one else.... He +realises that he has come at an unlucky moment, but there's no help for +it.... He sits down, begins talking...goodness knows what about: +poetry, the beauties of nature, the advantages of a good +education...talks the most awful rot, in fact. But, meanwhile, the +first five minutes have gone by, he has settled himself comfortably; +the lady has resigned herself to the inevitable, and so Mr. N. or M. +regains his self-possession, takes breath, and begins a real +conversation--to the best of his ability. + +In spite, though, of all this rigmarole, I don't still feel quite +comfortable. I seem to see your bewildered--even rather wrathful--face; +I feel that it will be almost impossible you should not ascribe to me +some hidden motives, and so, like a Roman who has committed some folly, +I wrap myself majestically in my toga, and await in silence your final +sentence.... + +The question is: Will you allow me to go on writing to you?--I remain +sincerely and warmly devoted to you, + +ALEXEY S. + + +II + + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _March_ 22, 1840. + +DEAR SIR, + +ALEXEY PETROVITCH, + +I have received your letter, and I really don't know what to say to +you. I should not even have answered you at all, if it had not been +that I fancied that under your jesting remarks there really lies hid a +feeling of some friendliness. Your letter made an unpleasant impression +on me. In answer to your rigmarole, as you call it, let me too put to +you one question: _What for?_ What have I to do with you, or you with +me? I do not ascribe to you any bad motives ... on the contrary, I'm +grateful for your sympathy ... but we are strangers to each other, and +I, just now at least, feel not the slightest inclination for greater +intimacy with any one whatever.--With sincere esteem, I remain, etc., + +MARYA B. + + +III + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _March_ 30. + +Thank you, Marya Alexandrovna, thank you for your note, brief as it +was. All this time I have been in great suspense; twenty times a day I +have thought of you and my letter. You can't imagine how bitterly I +laughed at myself; but now I am in an excellent frame of mind, and very +much pleased with myself. Marya Alexandrovna, I am going to begin a +correspondence with you! Confess, this was not at all what you expected +after your answer; I'm surprised myself at my boldness.... Well, I +don't care, here goes! But don't be uneasy; I want to talk to you, not +of you, but of myself. It's like this, do you see: it's absolutely +needful for me, in the old-fashioned phraseology, to open my heart to +some one. I have not the slightest right to select you for my +confidant--agreed. + +But listen: I won't demand of you an answer to my letters; I don't even +want to know whether you read my 'rigmarole'; but, in the name of all +that's holy, don't send my letters back to me! + +Let me tell you, I am utterly alone on earth. In my youth I led a +solitary life, though I never, I remember, posed as a Byronic hero; but +first, circumstances, and secondly, a faculty of imaginative dreaming +and a love for dreaming, rather cool blood, pride, indolence--a number +of different causes, in fact, cut me off from the society of men. The +transition from dream-life to real life took place in me late...perhaps +too late, perhaps it has not fully taken place up to now. So long as I +found entertainment in my own thoughts and feelings, so long as I was +capable of abandoning myself to causeless and unuttered transports and +so on, I did not complain of my solitude. I had no associates; I had +what are called friends. Sometimes I needed their presence, as an +electrical machine needs a discharger--and that was all. Love... of that +subject we will not speak for the present. But now, I will own, now +solitude weighs heavy on me; and at the same time, I see no escape from +my position. I do not blame fate; I alone am to blame and am deservedly +punished. In my youth I was absorbed by one thing--my precious self; I +took my simple-hearted self-love for modesty; I avoided society--and +here I am now, a fearful bore to myself. What am I to do with myself? +There is no one I love; all my relations with other people are somehow +strained and false. + +And I've no memories either, for in all my past life I can find nothing +but my own personality. Save me. To you I have made no passionate +protestations of love. You I have never smothered in a flood of aimless +babble. I passed by you rather coldly, and it is just for that reason I +make up my mind to have recourse to you now. (I have had thoughts of +doing so before this, but at that time you were not free....) Among all +my self-created sensations, pleasures and sufferings, the one genuine +feeling was the not great, but instinctive attraction to you, which +withered up at the time, like a single ear of wheat in the midst of +worthless weeds.... Let me just for once look into another face, into +another soul--my own face has grown hateful to me. I am like a man who +should have been condemned to live all his life in a room with walls of +looking-glass.... I do not ask of you any sort of confessions--oh +mercy, no! Bestow on me a sister's unspoken sympathy, or at least the +simple curiosity of a reader. I will entertain you, I will really. + +Meanwhile I have the honour to be your sincere friend, + +A. S. + + +IV + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _April_ 7. + +I am writing to you again, though I foresee that without your approval +I shall soon cease writing. I must own that you cannot but feel some +distrust of me. Well, perhaps you are right too. In old days I should +have triumphantly announced to you (and very likely I should have quite +believed my own words myself) that I had 'developed,' made progress, +since the time when we parted. With condescending, almost affectionate, +contempt I should have referred to my past, and with touching +self-conceit have initiated you into the secrets of my real, present +life ... but, now, I assure you, Marya Alexandrovna, I'm positively +ashamed and sick to remember the capers and antics cut at times by my +paltry egoism. Don't be afraid: I am not going to force upon you any +great truths, any profound views. I have none of them--of those truths +and views. I have become a simple good fellow--really. I am bored, +Marya Alexandrovna, I'm simply bored past all enduring. That is why I +am writing to you.... I really believe we may come to be friends.... + +But I'm positively incapable of talking to you, till you hold out a +hand to me, till I get a note from you with the one word 'Yes.' Marya +Alexandrovna, are you willing to listen to me? That's the +question.--Yours devotedly, + +A. S. + + +V + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _April_ 14. + +What a strange person you are! Very well, then.--Yes! + +MARYA B. + + +VI + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _May_ 2, 1840. + +Hurrah! Thanks, Marya Alexandrovna, thanks! You are a very kind and +indulgent creature. + +I will begin according to my promise to talk about myself, and I shall +talk with a relish approaching to appetite.... That's just it. Of +anything in the world one may speak with fire, with enthusiasm, with +ecstasy, but with appetite one talks only of oneself. + +Let me tell you, during the last few days a very strange experience has +befallen me. I have for the first time taken an all-round view of my +past. You understand me. Every one of us often recalls what is +over--with regret, or vexation, or simply from nothing to do. But to +bend a cold, clear gaze over all one's past life--as a traveller turns +and looks from a high mountain on the plain he has passed through--is +only possible at a certain age ... and a secret chill clutches at a +man's heart when it happens to him for the first time. Mine, anyway, +felt a sick pang. While we are young, _such_ an all-round view is +impossible. But my youth is over, and, like one who has climbed on to a +mountain, everything lies clear before me. + +Yes, my youth is gone, gone never to return!... Here it lies before me, +as it were in the palm of my hand. + +A sorry spectacle! I will confess to you, Marya Alexandrovna, I am very +sorry for myself. My God! my God! Can it be that I have myself so +utterly ruined my life, so mercilessly embroiled and tortured +myself!... Now I have come to my senses, but it's too late. Has it ever +happened to you to save a fly from a spider? Has it? You remember, you +put it in the sun; its wings and legs were stuck together, glued.... +How awkwardly it moved, how clumsily it attempted to get clear!... +After prolonged efforts, it somehow gets better, crawls, tries to open +its wings ... but there is no more frolicking for it, no more +light-hearted buzzing in the sunshine, as before, when it was flying +through the open window into the cool room and out again, freely +winging its way into the hot air.... The fly, at least, fell through +none of its own doing into the dreadful web ... but I! + +I have been my own spider! + +And, at the same time, I cannot greatly blame myself. Who, indeed, tell +me, pray, is ever to blame for anything--alone? Or, to put it better, +we are all to blame, and yet we can't be blamed. Circumstances +determine us; they shove us into one road or another, and then they +punish us for it. Every man has his destiny.... Wait a bit, wait a bit! +A cleverly worked-out but true comparison has just come into my head. +As the clouds are first condensed from the vapours of earth, rise from +out of her bosom, then separate, move away from her, and at last bring +her prosperity or ruin: so, about every one of us, and out of +ourselves, is fashioned--how is one to express it?--is fashioned a sort +of element, which has afterwards a destructive or saving influence on +us. This element I call destiny.... In other words, and speaking +simply, every one makes his own destiny and destiny makes every one.... + +Every one makes his destiny--yes!... but people like us make it too +much--that's what's wrong with us! Consciousness is awakened too early +in us; too early we begin to keep watch on ourselves.... We Russians +have set ourselves no other task in life but the cultivation of our own +personality, and when we're children hardly grown-up we set to work to +cultivate it, this luckless personality! Receiving no definite guidance +from without, with no real respect for anything, no strong belief in +anything, we are free to make what we choose of ourselves ... one can't +expect every one to understand on the spot the uselessness of intellect +'seething in vain activity' ... and so we get again one monster the +more in the world, one more of those worthless creatures in whom habits +of self-consciousness distort the very striving for truth, and a +ludicrous simplicity exists side by side with a pitiful duplicity ... +one of those beings of impotent, restless thought who all their lives +know neither the satisfaction of natural activity, nor genuine +suffering, nor the genuine thrill of conviction.... Mixing up together +in ourselves the defects of all ages, we rob each defect of its good +redeeming side ... we are as silly as children, but we are not sincere +as they are; we are cold as old people, but we have none of the good +sense of old age.... To make up, we are psychologists. Oh yes, we are +great psychologists! But our psychology is akin to pathology; our +psychology is that subtle study of the laws of morbid condition and +morbid development, with which healthy people have nothing to do.... +And, what is the chief point, we are not young, even in our youth we +are not young! + +And at the same time--why libel ourselves? Were we never young, did we +never know the play, the fire, the thrill of life's forces? We too have +been in Arcady, we too have strayed about her bright meadows!... Have +you chanced, strolling about a copse, to come across those dark +grasshoppers which, jumping up from under your very feet, suddenly with +a whirring sound expand bright red wings, fly a few yards, and then +drop again into the grass? So our dark youth at times spread its +particoloured wings for a few moments and for no long flight.... Do you +remember our silent evening walks, the four of us together, beside your +garden fence, after some long, warm, spirited conversation? Do you +remember those blissful moments? Nature, benign and stately, took us to +her bosom. We plunged, swooning, into a flood of bliss. All around, the +sunset with a sudden and soft flush, the glowing sky, the earth bathed +in light, everything on all sides seemed full of the fresh and fiery +breath of youth, the joyous triumph of some deathless happiness. The +sunset flamed; and, like it, our rapturous hearts burned with soft and +passionate fire, and the tiny leaves of the young trees quivered +faintly and expectantly over our heads, as though in response to the +inward tremor of vague feelings and anticipations in us. Do you +remember the purity, the goodness and trustfulness of ideas, the +softening of noble hopes, the silence of full hearts? Were we not +really then worth something better than what life has brought us to? +Why was it ordained for us only at rare moments to see the longed-for +shore, and never to stand firmly on it, never to touch it: + + 'Never to weep with joy, like the first Jew + Upon the border of the promised land'! + +These two lines of Fet's remind me of others, also his.... Do you +remember once, as we stood in the highroad, we saw in the distance a +cloud of pink dust, blown up by the light breeze against the setting +sun? 'In an eddying cloud,' you began, and we were all still at once to +listen: + + 'In an eddying cloud + Dust rises in the distance ... + Rider or man on foot + Is seen not in the dust. + I see some one trotting + On a gallant steed ... + Friend of mine, friend far away, + Think! oh, think of me!' + +You ceased ... we all felt a shudder pass over us, as though the breath +of love had flitted over our hearts, and each of us--I am sure of +it--felt irresistibly drawn into the distance, the unknown distance, +where the phantom of bliss rises and lures through the mist. And all +the while, observe the strangeness; why, one wonders, should we have a +yearning for the far away? Were we not in love with each other? Was not +happiness 'so close, so possible'? As I asked you just now: why was it +we did not touch the longed-for shore? Because falsehood walked hand in +hand with us; because it poisoned our best feelings; because everything +in us was artificial and strained; because we did not love each other +at all, but were only trying to love, fancying we loved.... + +But enough, enough! why inflame one's wounds? Besides, it is all over +and done with. What was good in our past moved me, and on that good I +will take leave of you for a while. It's time to make an end of this +long letter. I am going out for a breath here of the May air, in which +spring is breaking through the dry fastness of winter with a sort of +damp, keen warmth. Farewell.--Yours, + +A. S. + +VII + + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----,_May_ 1840. + +I have received your letter, Alexey Petrovitch, and do you know what +feeling t aroused in me?--indignation ... yes, indignation ... and I +will explain to you at once why it aroused just that feeling in me. +It's only a pity I'm not a great hand with my pen; I rarely write, and +am not good at expressing my thoughts precisely and in few words. But +you will, I hope, come to my aid. You must try, on your side, to +understand me, if only to find out why I am indignant with you. + +Tell me--you have brains--have you ever asked yourself what sort of +creature a Russian woman is? what is her destiny? her position in the +world--in short, what is her life? I don't know if you have had time to +put this question to yourself; I can't picture to myself how you would +answer it.... I should, perhaps, in conversation be capable of giving +you my ideas on the subject, but on paper I am scarcely equal to it. No +matter, though. This is the point: you will certainly agree with me +that we women, those of us at least who are not satisfied with the +common interests of domestic life, receive our final education, in any +case, from you men: you have a great and powerful influence on us. Now, +consider what you do to us. I am talking about young girls, especially +those who, like me, live in the wilds, and there are very many such in +Russia. Besides, I don't know anything of others and cannot judge of +them. Picture to yourself such a girl. Her education, suppose, is +finished; she begins to live, to enjoy herself. But enjoyment alone is +not much to her. She demands much from life, she reads, and dreams ... +of love. Always nothing but love! you will say.... Suppose so; but that +word means a great deal to her. I repeat that I am not speaking of a +girl to whom thinking is tiresome and boring.... She looks round her, +is waiting for the time when he will come for whom her soul yearns.... +At last he makes his appearance--she is captivated; she is wax in his +hands. All--happiness and love and thought--all have come with a rush +together with him; all her tremors are soothed, all her doubts solved +by him. Truth itself seems speaking by his lips. She venerates him, is +over-awed at her own happiness, learns, loves. Great is his power over +her at that time!... If he were a hero, he would fire her, would teach +her to sacrifice herself, and all sacrifices would be easy to her! But +there are no heroes in our times.... Anyway, he directs her as he +pleases. She devotes herself to whatever interests him, every word of +his sinks into her soul. She has not yet learned how worthless and +empty and false a word may be, how little it costs him who utters it, +and how little it deserves belief! After these first moments of bliss +and hope there usually comes--through circumstances--(circumstances +are always to blame)--there comes a parting. They say there have been +instances of two kindred souls, on getting to know one another, +becoming at once inseparably united; I have heard it said, too, that +things did not always go smoothly with them in consequence ... but of +what I have not seen myself I will not speak,--and that the pettiest +calculation, the most pitiful prudence, can exist in a youthful heart, +side by side with the most passionate enthusiasm--of that I have to my +sorrow had practical experience. And so, the parting comes.... Happy +the girl who realises at once that it is the end of everything, who +does not beguile herself with expectations! But you, valorous, just +men, for the most part, have not the pluck, nor even the desire, to +tell us the truth.... It is less disturbing for you to deceive us.... +However, I am ready to believe that you deceive yourselves together +with us.... Parting! To bear separation is both hard and easy. If only +there be perfect, untouched faith in him whom one loves, the soul can +master the anguish of parting.... I will say more. It is only then, +when she is left alone, that she finds out the sweetness of +solitude--not fruitless, but filled with memories and ideas. It is only +then that she finds out herself, comes to her true self, grows +strong.... In the letters of her friend far away she finds a support +for herself; in her own, she, very likely for the first time, finds +full self-expression.... But as two people who start from a stream's +source, along opposite banks, at first can touch hands, then only +communicate by voice, and finally lose sight of each other altogether; +so two natures grow apart at last by separation. Well, what then? you +will say; it's clear they were not destined to be together.... But +herein the difference between a man and a woman comes out. For a man it +means nothing to begin a new life, to shake off all his past; a woman +cannot do this. No, she cannot fling off her past, she cannot break +away from her roots--no, a thousand times no! And now begins a pitiful +and ludicrous spectacle.... Gradually losing hope and faith in +herself--and how bitter that is you cannot even imagine!--she pines and +wears herself out alone, obstinately clinging to her memories and +turning away from everything that the life around offers her.... But +he? Look for him! where is he? And is it worth his while to stand +still? When has he time to look round? Why, it's all a thing of the +past for him. Or else this is what happens: it happens that he feels a +sudden inclination to meet the former object of his feelings, that he +even makes an excursion with that aim.... But, mercy on us! the pitiful +conceit that leads him into doing that! In his gracious sympathy, in +his would-be friendly advice, in his indulgent explanation of the past, +such consciousness of his superiority is manifest! It is so agreeable +and cheering for him to let himself feel every instant--what a clever +person he is, and how kind! And how little he understands what he has +done! How clever he is at not even guessing what is passing in a +woman's heart, and how offensive is his compassion if he does guess +it!... Tell me, please, where is she to get strength to bear all this? +Recollect this, too: for the most part, a girl in whose brain--to her +misfortune--thought has begun to stir, such a girl, when she begins to +love, and falls under a man's influence, inevitably grows apart from +her family, her circle of friends. She was not, even before then, +satisfied with their life, though she moved in step with them, while +she treasured all her secret dreams in her soul.... But the discrepancy +soon becomes apparent.... They cease to comprehend her, and are ready +to look askance at everything she does.... At first this is nothing to +her, but afterwards, afterwards ... when she is left alone, when what +she was striving towards, for which she had sacrificed everything--when +heaven is not gained while everything near, everything possible, is +lost--what is there to support her? Jeers, sly hints, the vulgar +triumph of coarse commonsense, she could still endure somehow ... but +what is she to do, what is to be her refuge, when an inner voice begins +to whisper to her that all of them are right and she was wrong, that +life, whatever it may be, is better than dreams, as health is better +than sickness ... when her favourite pursuits, her favourite books, +grow hateful to her, books out of which there is no reading +happiness--what, tell me, is to be her support? Must she not inevitably +succumb in such a struggle? how is she to live and to go on living in +such a desert? To know oneself beaten and to hold out one's hand, like +a beggar, to persons quite indifferent, for them to bestow the sympathy +which the proud heart had once fancied it could well dispense with--all +that would be nothing! But to feel yourself ludicrous at the very +instant when you are shedding bitter, bitter tears ... O God, spare +such suffering!... + +My hands are trembling, and I am quite in a fever.... My face burns. It +is time to stop.... I'll send off this letter quickly, before I'm +ashamed of its feebleness. But for God's sake, in your answer not a +word--do you hear?--not a word of sympathy, or I'll never write to you +again. Understand me: I should not like you to take this letter as the +outpouring of a misunderstood soul, complaining.... Ah! I don't +care!--Good-bye. + +M. + + +VIII + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _May_ 28, 1840. + +Marya Alexandrovna, you are a splendid person ... you ... your letter +revealed the truth to me at last! My God! what suffering! A man is +constantly thinking that now at last he has reached simplicity, that +he's no longer showing off, humbugging, lying ... but when you come to +look at him more attentively, he's become almost worse than before. And +this, too, one must remark: the man himself, alone that is, never +attains this self-recognition, try as he will; his eyes cannot see his +own defects, just as the compositor's wearied eyes cannot see the slips +he makes; another fresh eye is needed for that. My thanks to you, Marya +Alexandrovna.... You see, I speak to you of myself; of you I dare not +speak.... Ah, how absurd my last letter seems to me now, so flowery and +sentimental! I beg you earnestly, go on with your confession. I fancy +you, too, will be the better for it, and it will do me great good. It's +a true saying: 'A woman's wit's better than many a reason,' and a +woman's heart's far and away--by God, yes! If women knew how much +better, nobler, and wiser they are than men--yes, wiser--they would +grow conceited and be spoiled. But happily they don't know it; they +don't know it because their intelligence isn't in the habit of turning +incessantly upon themselves, as with us. They think very little about +themselves--that's their weakness and their strength; that's the whole +secret--I won't say of our superiority, but of our power. They lavish +their soul, as a prodigal heir does his father's gold, while we exact a +percentage on every worthless morsel.... How are they to hold their own +with us?... All this is not compliments, but the simple truth, proved +by experience. Once more, I beseech you, Marya Alexandrovna, go on +writing to me.... If you knew all that is coming into my brain! ... But +I have no wish now to speak, I want to listen to you. My turn will come +later. Write, write.--Your devoted, + +A. S. + + +IX + + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _June_ 12, 1840. + +I had hardly sent off my last letter to you, Alexey Petrovitch, when I +regretted it; but there was no help for it then. One thing reassures me +somewhat: I am sure you realised that it was under the influence of +feelings long ago suppressed that it was written, and you excused me. I +did not even read through, at the time, what I had written to you; I +remember my heart beat so violently that the pen shook in my fingers. +However, though I should probably have expressed myself differently if +I had allowed myself time to reflect, I don't mean, all the same, to +disavow my own words, or the feelings which I described to you as best +I could. To-day I am much cooler and far more self-possessed. + +I remember at the end of my letter I spoke of the painful position of a +girl who is conscious of being solitary, even among her own people.... +I won't expatiate further upon them, but will rather tell you a few +instances; I think I shall bore you less in that way. In the first +place, then, let me tell you that all over the country-side I am never +called anything but the female philosopher. The ladies especially +honour me with that name. Some assert that I sleep with a Latin book in +my hand, and in spectacles; others declare that I know how to extract +cube roots, whatever they may be. Not a single one of them doubts that +I wear manly apparel on the sly, and instead of 'good-morning', address +people spasmodically with 'Georges Sand!'--and indignation grows apace +against the female philosopher. We have a neighbour, a man of +five-and-forty, a great wit ... at least, he is reputed a great wit ... +for him my poor personality is an inexhaustible subject of jokes. He +used to tell of me that directly the moon rose I could not take my eyes +off it, and he will mimic the way in which I gaze at it; and declares +that I positively take my coffee with moonshine instead of with +milk--that's to say, I put my cup in the moonlight. He swears that I +use phrases of this kind--'It is easy because it is difficult, though +on the other hand it is difficult because it is easy'.... He asserts +that I am always looking for a word, always striving 'thither,' and +with comic rage inquires: 'whither-thither? whither?' He has also +circulated a story about me that I ride at night up and down by the +river, singing Schubert's Serenade, or simply moaning, 'Beethoven, +Beethoven!' She is, he will say, such an impassioned old person, and so +on, and so on. Of course, all this comes straight to me. This surprises +you, perhaps. But do not forget that four years have passed since your +stay in these parts. You remember how every one frowned upon us in +those days. Their turn has come now. And all that, too, is no +consequence. I have to hear many things that wound my heart more than +that. I won't say anything about my poor, good mother's never having +been able to forgive me for your cousin's indifference to me. But my +whole life is burning away like a house on fire, as my nurse expresses +it. 'Of course,' I am constantly hearing, 'we can't keep pace with you! +we are plain people, we are guided by nothing but common-sense. Though, +when you come to think of it, what have all these metaphysics, and +books, and intimacies with learned folks brought you to?' You perhaps +remember my sister--not the one to whom you were once not +indifferent--but the other elder one, who is married. Her husband, if +you recollect, is a simple and rather comic person; you often used to +make fun of him in those days. But she's happy, after all; she's the +mother of a family, she's fond of her husband, her husband adores +her.... 'I am like every one else,' she says to me sometimes, 'but +you!' And she's right; I envy her.... + +And yet, I feel I should not care to change with her, all the same. Let +them call me a female philosopher, a queer fish, or what they choose--I +will remain true to the end ... to what? to an ideal, or what? Yes, to +my ideal. Yes, I will be faithful to the end to what first set my heart +throbbing--to what I have recognised, and recognise still, as truth, +and good.... If only my strength does not fail me, if only my divinity +does not turn out to be a dumb and soulless idol!... + +If you really feel any friendship for me, if you have really not +forgotten me, you ought to aid me, you ought to solve my doubts, and +strengthen my convictions.... + +Though after all, what help can you give me? 'All that's rubbish, +fiddle-faddle,' was said to me yesterday by my uncle--I think you don't +know him--a retired naval officer, a very sensible man; 'husband, +children, a pot of soup; to look after the husband and children and +keep an eye on the pot--that's what a woman wants.'... Tell me, is he +right? + +If he really is right, I can still make up for the past, I can still +get into the common groove. Why should I wait any longer? what have I +to hope for? In one of your letters you spoke of the wings of youth. +How often--how long they are tied! And later on comes the time when +they fall off, and there is no rising above earth, no flying to heaven +any more. Write to me.--Yours, + +M. + + +X + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _June_ 16, 1840. + +I hasten to answer your letter, dear Marya Alexandrovna. I will confess +to you that if it were not ... I can't say for business, for I have +none ... if it were not that I am stupidly accustomed to this place, I +should have gone off to see you again, and should have talked to my +heart's content, but on paper it all comes out cold and dead.... + +Marya Alexandrovna, I tell you again, women are better than men, and +you ought to prove this in practice. Let such as us fling away our +convictions, like cast-off clothes, or abandon them for a crust of +bread, or lull them into an untroubled sleep, and put over them--as +over the dead, once dear to us--a gravestone, at which to come at rare +intervals to pray--let us do all this; but you women must not be false +to yourselves, you must not be false to your ideal.... That word has +become ridiculous.... To fear being ridiculous--is not to love truth. +It happens, indeed, that the senseless laughter of the fool drives even +good men into giving up a great deal ... as, for instance, the defence +of an absent friend.... I have been guilty of that myself. But, I +repeat, you women are better than we.... In trifling matters you give +in sooner than we; but you know how to face fearful odds better than +we. I don't want to give you either advice or help--how should I? +besides, you have no need of it. But I hold out my hand to you; I say +to you, Have patience, struggle on to the end; and let me tell you, +that, as a sentiment, the consciousness of an honestly sustained +struggle is almost higher than the triumph of victory.... Victory does +not depend on ourselves. Of course your uncle is right from a certain +point of view; family life is everything for a woman; for her there is +no other life. + +But what does that prove? None but Jesuits will maintain that any means +are good if only they attain the end. It's false! it's false! Feet +sullied with the mud of the road are unworthy to go into a holy temple. +At the end of your letter is a phrase I do not like; you want to get +into the common groove; take care, don't make a false step! Besides--do +not forget,--there is no erasing the past; and however much you try, +whatever pressure you put on yourself, you will not turn into your +sister. You have reached a higher level than she; but your soul has +been scorched in the fire, hers is untouched. Descend to her level, +stoop to her, you can; but nature will not give up her rights, and the +burnt place will not grow again.... + +You are afraid--let us speak plainly--you are afraid of being left an +old maid. You are, I know, already twenty-six. Certainly the position +of old maids is an unenviable one; every one is so ready to laugh at +them, every one comments with such ungenerous amusement on their +peculiarities and weaknesses. But if you scrutinise with a little +attention any old bachelor, one may just as well point the finger of +scorn at him; one will find plenty in him, too, to laugh at. There's no +help for it. There is no getting happiness by struggling for it. But we +must not forget that it's not happiness, but human dignity, that's the +chief aim in life. + +You describe your position with great humour. I well understand all the +bitterness of it; your position one may really call tragic. But let me +tell you you are not alone in it; there is scarcely any quite modern +person who isn't placed in it. You will say that that makes it no +better for you; but I am of opinion that suffering in company with +thousands is quite a different matter from suffering alone. It is not a +matter of egoism, but a sense of a general inevitability which comes +in. + +All this is very fine, granted, you will say ... but not practicable in +reality. Why not practicable? I have hitherto imagined, and I hope I +shall never cease to imagine, that in God's world everything honest, +good, and true is practicable, and will sooner or later come to pass, +and not only will be realised, but is already being realised. Let each +man only hold firm in his place, not lose patience, nor desire the +impossible, but do all in his power. But I fancy I have gone off too +much into abstractions. I will defer the continuation of my reflections +till the next letter; but I cannot lay down my pen without warmly, most +warmly, pressing your hand, and wishing you from my soul all that is +good on earth. + +Yours, A. S. + +_P.S._--By the way, you say it's useless for you to wait, that you have +nothing to hope for; how do you know that, let me ask? + + +XI + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _June_ 30, 1840. + +How grateful I am to you for your letter, Alexey Petrovitch! How much +good it did me! I see you really are a good and trustworthy man, and so +I shall not be reserved with you. I trust you. I know you would make no +unkind use of my openness, and will give me friendly counsel. Here is +the question. + +You noticed at the end of my letter a phrase which you did not quite +like. I will tell what it had reference to. There is one of the +neighbours here ... he was not here when you were, and you have not +seen him. He ... I could marry him if I liked; he is still young, +well-educated, and has property. There are no difficulties on the part +of my parents; on the contrary, they--I know for a fact--desire this +marriage. He is a good man, and I think he loves me ... but he is so +spiritless and narrow, his aspirations are so limited, that I cannot +but be conscious of my superiority to him. He is aware of this, and as +it were rejoices in it, and that is just what sets me against him. I +cannot respect him, though he has an excellent heart. What am I to do? +tell me! Think for me and write me your opinion sincerely. + +But how grateful I am to you for your letter!... Do you know, I have +been haunted at times by such bitter thoughts.... Do you know, I had +come to the point of being almost ashamed of every feeling--not of +enthusiasm only, but even of faith; I used to shut a book with vexation +whenever there was anything about hope or happiness in it, and turned +away from a cloudless sky, from the fresh green of the trees, from +everything that was smiling and joyful. What a painful condition it +was! I say, _was_ ... as though it were over! + +I don't know whether it is over; I know that if it does not return I am +indebted to you for it. Do you see, Alexey Petrovitch, how much good +you have done, perhaps, without suspecting it yourself! By the way, do +you know I feel very sorry for you? We are now in the full blaze of +summer, the days are exquisite, the sky blue and brilliant.... It +couldn't be lovelier in Italy even, and you are staying in the +stifling, baking town, and walking on the burning pavement. What +induces you to do so? You might at least move into some summer villa +out of town. They say there are bright spots at Peterhof, on the +sea-coast. + +I should like to write more to you, but it's impossible. Such a sweet +fragrance comes in from the garden that I can't stay indoors. I am +going to put on my hat and go for a walk. + + +... Good-bye till another time, good Alexey Petrovitch. Yours +devotedly, M. B. + +_P.S._--I forgot to tell you ... only fancy, that witty gentleman, +about whom I wrote to you the other day, has made me a declaration of +love, and in the most ardent terms. I thought at first he was laughing +at me; but he finished up with a formal proposal--what do you think of +him, after all his libels! But he is positively too old. Yesterday +evening, to tease him, I sat down to the piano before the open window, +in the moonlight, and played Beethoven. It was so nice to feel its cold +light on my face, so delicious to fill the fragrant night air with the +sublime music, through which one could hear at times the singing of a +nightingale. It is long since I have been so happy. But write to me +about what I asked you at the beginning of my letter; it is very +important. + + +XII + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +ST. PETERSBURG, _July_ 8, 1840. + +DEAR MARYA ALEXANDROVNA,--Here is my opinion in a couple of words: both +the old bachelor and the young suitor--overboard with them both! There +is no need even to consider it. Neither of them is worthy of +you--that's as clear as that twice two makes four. The young neighbour +is very likely a good-natured person, but that's enough about him! I am +convinced that there is nothing in common between him and you, and you +can fancy how amusing it would be for you to live together! Besides, +why be in a hurry? Is it a possible thing that a woman like you--I +don't want to pay compliments, and that's why I don't expatiate +further--that such a woman should meet no one who would be capable of +appreciating her? No, Marya Alexandrovna, listen to me, if you really +believe that I am your friend, and that my advice is of use. But +confess, it was agreeable to see the old scoffer at your feet.... If I +had been in your place, I'd have kept him singing Beethoven's Adelaida +and gazing at the moon the whole night long. + +Enough of them, though,--your adorers! It's not of them I want to talk +to you to-day. I am in a strange, half-irritated, half-emotional state +of mind to-day, in consequence of a letter I got yesterday. I am +enclosing a copy of it to you. This letter was written by one of my +friends of long ago, a colleague in the service, a good-natured but +rather limited person. He went abroad two years ago, and till now has +not written to me once. Here is his letter.--_N.B._ He is very +good-looking. + +'CHER ALEXIS,--I am in Naples, sitting at the window in my room, in +Chiaja. The weather is superb. I have been staring a long while at the +sea, then I was seized with impatience, and suddenly the brilliant idea +entered my head of writing a letter to you. I always felt drawn to you, +my dear boy--on my honour I did. And so now I feel an inclination to +pour out my soul into your bosom ... that's how one expresses it, I +believe, in your exalted language. And why I've been overcome with +impatience is this. I'm expecting a friend--a woman; we're going +together to Baiae to eat oysters and oranges, and see the tanned +shepherds in red caps dance the tarantella, to bask in the sun, like +lizards--in short, to enjoy life to the utmost. My dear boy, I am more +happy than I can possibly tell you. + +If only I had your style--oh! what a picture I would draw for you! But +unfortunately, as you are aware, I'm an illiterate person. The woman I +am expecting, and who has kept me now more than a hour continually +starting and looking at the door, loves me--but how I love her I fancy +even your fluent pen could not describe. + +'I must tell you that it is three months since I got to know her, and +from the very first day of our acquaintance my love mounts continually +_crescendo_, like a chromatic scale, higher and higher, and at the +present moment I am simply in the seventh heaven. I jest, but in +reality my devotion to this woman is something extraordinary, +supernatural. Fancy, I scarcely talk to her, I can do nothing but stare +at her, and laugh like a fool. I sit at her feet, I feel that I'm +awfully silly and happy, simply inexcusably happy. It sometimes happens +that she lays her hand on my head.... Well, I tell you, simply ... But +there, you can't understand it; you 're a philosopher and always were a +philosopher. Her name is Nina, Ninetta, as you like; she's the daughter +of a rich merchant here. Fine as any of your Raphaels; fiery as +gunpowder, gay, so clever that it's amazing how she can care for a fool +like me; she sings like a bird, and her eyes ... + +'Please excuse this unintentional break.... I fancied the door +creaked.... No, she's not coming yet, the heartless wretch! You will +ask me how all this is going to end, and what I intend to do with +myself, and whether I shall stay here long? I know nothing about it, my +boy, and I don't want to. What will be, will be.... Why, if one were to +be for ever stopping and considering ... 'She! ... she's running up +the staircase, singing.... She is here. Well, my boy, good-bye.... I've +no time for you now, I'm so sorry. She has bespattered the whole +letter; she slapped a wet nosegay down on the paper. For the first +moment, she thought I was writing to a woman; when she knew that it was +to a friend, she told me to send her greetings, and ask you if you have +any flowers, and whether they are sweet? Well, good-bye. ... If you +could hear her laughing. Silver can't ring like it; and the good-nature +in every note of it--you want to kiss her little feet for it. We are +going, going. Don't mind the untidy smudges, and envy yours, M.' + +The letter was in fact bespattered all over, and smelt of +orange-blossom ... two white petals had stuck to the paper. This letter +has agitated me.... I remember my stay in Naples.... The weather was +magnificent then too--May was just beginning; I had just reached +twenty-two; but I knew no Ninetta. I sauntered about alone, consumed +with a thirst for bliss, at once torturing and sweet, so sweet that it +was, as it were, like bliss itself. ... Ah, what is it to be young! ... +I remember I went out once for a row in the bay. There were two of us; +the boatman and I ... what did you imagine? What a night it was, and +what a sky, what stars, how they quivered and broke on the waves! with +what delicate flame the water flashed and glimmered under the oars, +what delicious fragrance filled the whole sea--cannot describe this, +'eloquent' though my style may be. In the harbour was a French ship of +the line. It was all red with lights; long streaks of red, the +reflection of the lighted windows, stretched over the dark sea. The +captain of the ship was giving a ball. The gay music floated across to +me in snatches at long intervals. I recall in particular the trill of a +little flute in the midst of the deep blare of the trumpets; it seemed +to flit, like a butterfly, about my boat. I bade the man row to the +ship; twice he took me round it. ... I caught glimpses at the windows +of women's figures, borne gaily round in the whirl-wind of the +waltz.... I told the boatman to row away, far away, straight into the +darkness.... I remember a long while the music persistently pursued +me.... At last the sounds died away. I stood up in the boat, and in the +dumb agony of desire stretched out my arms to the sea.... Oh! how my +heart ached at that moment! How bitter was my loneliness to me! With +what rapture would I have abandoned myself utterly then, utterly ... +utterly, if there had been any one to abandon myself to! With what a +bitter emotion in my soul I flung myself down in the bottom of the boat +and, like Repetilov, asked to be taken anywhere, anywhere away! But my +friend here has experienced nothing like that. And why should he? He +has managed things far more wisely than I. He is living ... while I ... +He may well call me a philosopher.... Strange! they call you a +philosopher too.... What has brought this calamity on both of us? + +I am not living.... But who is to blame for that? Why am I staying on +here, in Petersburg? what am I doing here? why am I wearing away day +after day? why don't I go into the country? What is amiss with our +steppes? has not one free breathing space in them? is one cramped in +them? A strange craze to pursue dreams, when happiness is perhaps +within reach! Resolved! I am going, going to-morrow, if I can. I am +going home--that is, to you,--it's just the same; we're only twenty +versts from one another. Why, after all, grow stale here! And how was +it this idea did not strike me sooner? Dear Marya Alexadrovna, we shall +soon see each other. It's extraordinary, though, that this idea never +entered my head before! I ought to have gone long, long ago. Good-bye +till we meet, Marya Alexandrovna. + +_July_ 9. + +I purposely gave myself twenty-four hours for reflection, and am now +absolutely convinced that I have no reason to stay here. The dust in +the streets is so penetrating that my eyes are bad. To-day I am +beginning to pack, the day after to-morrow I shall most likely start, +and within ten days I shall have the pleasure of seeing you. I trust +you will welcome me as in old days. By the way, your sister is still +staying at your aunt's, isn't she? + +Marya Alexandrovna, let me press your hand warmly, and say from my +heart, Good-bye till we meet. I had been getting ready to go away, but +that letter has hastened my project. Supposing the letter proves +nothing, supposing even Ninetta would not please any one else, me for +instance, still I am going; that's decided now. Till we meet, yours, + +A. S. + + +XIII + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X-----,_July_ 16, 1840. + +You are coming here, Alexey Petrovitch, you will soon be with us, eh? I +will not conceal from you that this news both rejoices and disturbs +me.... How shall we meet? Will the spiritual tie persist which, as it +seems to me, has sprung up between us? Will it not be broken by our +meeting? I don't know; I feel somehow afraid. I will not answer your +last letter, though I could say much; I am putting it all off till our +meeting. My mother is very much pleased at your coming.... She knew I +was corresponding with you. The weather is delicious; we will go a +great many walks, and I will show you some new places I have +discovered.... I especially like one long, narrow valley; it lies +between hillsides covered with forest.... It seems to be hiding in +their windings. A little brook courses through it, scarcely seeming to +move through the thick grass and flowers.... You shall see. Come: +perhaps you will not be bored. + +M.B. + +_P.S._--I think you will not see my sister; she is still staying at my +aunt's. I fancy (but this is between ourselves) she is going to marry a +very agreeable young man--an officer. Why did you send me that letter +from Naples? Life here cannot help seeming dingy and poor in contrast +with that luxuriance and splendour. But Mademoiselle Ninetta is wrong; +flowers grow and smell sweet--with us too. + + +XIV + +FROM MARYA ALEXANDROVNA TO ALEXEY PETROVITCH + +VILLAGE OF X----, _January_ 1841. + +I have written to you several times, Alexey Petrovitch ... you have not +answered. Are you living? Or perhaps you are tired of our +correspondence; perhaps you have found yourself some diversion more +agreeable than what can be afforded for you by the letters of a +provincial young lady. You remembered me, it is easy to see, simply +from want of anything better to do. If that's so, I wish you all +happiness. If you do not even now answer me, I will not trouble you +further. It only remains for me to regret my indiscretion in having +allowed myself to be agitated for nothing, in having held out a hand to +a friend, and having come for one minute out of my lonely corner. I +must remain in it for ever, must lock myself up--that is my apportioned +lot, the lot of all old maids. I ought to accustom myself to this idea. +It's useless to come out into the light of day, needless to wish for +fresh air, when the lungs cannot bear it. By the way, we are now hemmed +in all round by deadly drifts of snow. For the future I will be +wiser.... People don't die of dreariness; but of misery, perhaps, one +might perish. If I am wrong, prove it to me. But I fancy I am not +wrong. In any case, good-bye. I wish you all happiness. + +M. B. + + +XV + +FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA + +DRESDEN, _September_ 1842. + +I am writing to you, my dear Marya Alexandrovna, and I am writing only +because I do not want to die without saying good-bye to you, without +recalling myself to your memory. I am given up by the doctors ... and I +feel myself that my life is ebbing away. On my table stands a rose: +before it withers, I shall be no more. This comparison is not, however, +altogether an apt one. A rose is far more interesting than I. + +I am, as you see, abroad. It is now six months since I have been in +Dresden. I received your last letters--I am ashamed to confess--more +than a year ago. I lost some of them and never answered them.... I will +tell you directly why. But it seems you were always dear to me; to no +one but you have I any wish to say good-bye, and perhaps I have no one +else to take leave of. + +Soon after my last letter to you (I was on the very point of going down +to your neighbourhood, and had made various plans in advance) an +incident occurred which had, one may truly say, a great influence on my +fate, so great an influence that here I am dying, thanks to that +incident. I went to the theatre to see a ballet. I never cared for +ballets; and for every sort of actress, singer, and dancer I had always +had a secret feeling of repulsion.... But it is clear there's no +changing one's fate, and no one knows himself, and one cannot foresee +the future. In reality, in life it's only the unexpected that happens, +and we do nothing in a whole lifetime but accommodate ourselves to +facts.... But I seem to be rambling off into philosophising again. An +old habit! In brief, I fell in love with a dancing-girl. + +This was the more curious as one could not even call her a beauty. It +is true she had marvellous hair of ashen gold colour, and great clear +eyes, with a dreamy, and at the same time daring, look in them.... +Could I fail to know the expression of those eyes? For a whole year I +was pining and swooning in the light--of them! She was splendidly +well-made, and when she danced her national dance the audience would +stamp and shout with delight.... But, I fancy, no one but I fell in +love with her,--at least, no one was in love with her as I was. From +the very minute when I saw her for the first time (would you believe +it, I have only to close my eyes, and at once the theatre is before me, +the almost empty stage, representing the heart of a forest, and she +running in from the wing on the right, with a wreath of vine on her +head and a tiger-skin over her shoulders)--from that fatal moment I +have belonged to her utterly, just as a dog belongs to its master; and +if, now that I am dying, I do not belong to her, it is only because she +has cast me off. + +To tell the truth, she never troubled herself particularly about me. +She scarcely noticed me, though she was very good-natured in making use +of my money. I was for her, as she expressed it in her broken French, +'oun Rousso, boun enfant,' and nothing more. But I ... I could not live +where she was not living; I tore myself away once for all from +everything dear to me, from my country even, and followed that woman. + +You will suppose, perhaps, that she had brains. Not in the least! One +had only to glance at her low brow, one needed only one glimpse of her +lazy, careless smile, to feel certain at once of the scantiness of her +intellectual endowments. And I never imagined her to be an exceptional +woman. In fact, I never for one instant deceived myself about her. But +that was of no avail to me. Whatever I thought of her in her absence, +in her presence I felt nothing but slavish adoration.... In German +fairy-tales, the knights often fall under such an enchantment. I could +not take my eyes off her features, I could never tire of listening to +her talk, of admiring all her gestures; I positively drew my breath as +she breathed. However, she was good-natured, unconstrained--too +unconstrained indeed,--did not give herself airs, as actresses +generally do. There was a lot of life in her--that is, a lot of blood, +that splendid southern blood, into which the sun of those parts must +have infused some of its beams. She slept nine hours out of the +twenty-four, enjoyed her dinner, never read a single line of print, +except, perhaps, the newspaper articles in which she was mentioned; and +almost the only tender feeling in her life was her devotion to il +Signore Carlino, a greedy little Italian, who waited on her in the +capacity of secretary, and whom, later on, she married. And such a +woman I could fall in love with--I, a man, versed in all sorts of +intellectual subtleties, and no longer young! ... Who could have +anticipated it? I, at least, never anticipated it. I never anticipated +the part I was to play. I never anticipated that I should come to +hanging about rehearsals, waiting, bored and frozen, behind the scenes, +breathing in the smut and grime of the theatre, making friends with all +sorts of utterly unpresentable persons.... Making friends, did I say?-- +cringing slavishly upon them. I never anticipated that I should carry a +ballet-dancer's shawl; buy her her new gloves, clean her old ones with +bread-crumbs (I did even that, alas!), carry home her bouquets, hang +about the offices of journalists and editors, waste my substance, give +serenades, catch colds, wear myself out.... I never expected in a +little German town to receive the jeering nickname 'der +Kunst-barbar.'... And all this for nothing, in the fullest sense of the +word, for nothing. That's just it. + +... Do you remember how we used, in talk and by letter, to reason +together about love and indulge in all sort of subtleties? But in +actual life it turns out that real love is a feeling utterly unlike +what we pictured to ourselves. Love, indeed, is not a feeling at all, +it's a malady, a certain condition of soul and body. It does not +develop gradually. One cannot doubt about it, one cannot outwit it, +though it does not always come in the same way. Usually it takes +possession of a person without question, suddenly, against his +will--for all the world like cholera or fever.... It clutches him, poor +dear, as the hawk pounces on the chicken, and bears him off at its +will, however he struggles or resists.... In love, there's no equality, +none of the so-called free union of souls, and such idealisms, +concocted at their leisure by German professors.... No, in love, one +person is slave, and the other master; and well may the poets talk of +the fetters put on by love. Yes, love is a fetter, and the heaviest to +bear. At least I have come to this conviction, and have come to it by +the path of experience; I have bought this conviction at the cost of my +life, since I am dying in my slavery. + +What a life mine has been, if you think of it! In my first youth +nothing would satisfy me but to take heaven by storm for myself.... +Then I fell to dreaming of the good of all humanity, of the good of my +country. Then that passed too. I was thinking of nothing but making a +home, family life for myself ... and so tripped over an ant-heap--and +plop, down into the grave.... Ah, we're great hands, we Russians, at +making such a finish! + +But it's time to turn away from all that, it's long been time! May this +burden be loosened from off my soul together with life! I want, for the +last time, if only for an instant, to enjoy the sweet and gentle +feeling which is shed like a soft light within me, directly I think of +you. Your image is now doubly precious to me.... With it, rises up +before me the image of my country, and I send to it and to you a +farewell greeting. Live, live long and happily, and remember one thing: +whether you remain in the wilds of the steppes--where you have +sometimes been so sorrowful, but where I should so like to spend my +last days--or whether you enter upon a different career, remember life +deceives all but him who does not reflect upon her, and, demanding +nothing of her, accepts serenely her few gifts and serenely makes the +most of them. Go forward while you can. But if your strength fails you, +sit by the wayside and watch those that pass by without anger or envy. +They, too, have not far to go. In old days, I did not tell you this, +but death will teach any one. Though who says what is life, what is +truth? Do you remember who it was made no reply to that question? ... +Farewell, Marya Alexandrovna, farewell for the last time, and do not +remember evil against poor ALEXEY. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Diary of a Superfluous Man and +Other Stories, by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 9615.txt or 9615.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/6/1/9615/ + +Produced by Keren Vergon, Lazar Liveanu and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +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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