News archives 03/10.2019
- Let things remain! She says and throws Petrovna’s handbag out the window.
We go to the station Haldeevo, and on the guide "Frum - General Grave." A controller and an over-conductor with a candle enter.
- Your ... tickets! Cries the chief conductor.
- Your ticket! - the controller addresses me and the old man.
We shrink, shrink, hide our hands and glare at the encouraging face of the chief conductor.
- Get it! - the controller says to his companion and leaves. We are saved.
- Your ticket! You! Your ticket! - pushes the over-conductor of the sleeping guy. The guy wakes up and takes out a yellow ticket from his hat.
- Where are you going? - says the controller, twirling a ticket between his fingers. - You're not going there!
“You, oak, are not going there!” Says the chief conductor. - You got on the wrong train, head! You need to be on Zhivoderovo, and we are going to Khaldeevo! Vaaazmi! You never have to be a fool!
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Во всяком случае, она ни у кого не намерена просить прощения ни в чем и желает, чтоб это знали. Она не выйдет за Гаврилу Ардалионовича, пока не убедится, что ни в нем, ни в семействе его нет какой-нибудь затаенной мысли на ее счет. Во всяком случае, она ни в чем не считает себя виновною, и пусть бы лучше Гаврила Ардалионович узнал, на каких основаниях она прожила все эти пять лет в Петербурге, в каких отношениях к Афанасию Ивановичу и много ли скопила состояния. Наконец, если она и принимает теперь капитал, то вовсе не как плату за свой девичий позор, в котором она не виновата, а просто как вознаграждение за исковерканную судьбу. Под конец она даже так разгорячилась и раздражилась, излагая всё это (что, впрочем, было так естественно), что генерал Епанчин был очень доволен и считал дело оконченным; но раз напуганный Тоцкий и теперь не совсем поверил и долго боялся, нет ли и тут змеи под цветами. Переговоры, однако, начались; пункт, на котором был основан весь маневр обоих друзей, а именно возможность увлечения Настасьи Филипповны к Гане, начал мало-помалу выясняться и оправдываться, так что даже Тоцкий начинал иногда верить в возможность успеха. Тем временем Настасья Филипповна объяснилась с Ганей: слов было сказано очень мало, точно ее целомудрие страдало при этом.
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he guy blinks intensely, stupidly looks at the smiling audience and begins to rub his sleeve on his eyes.
- You do not cry! - advises the public. - You better ask! Such a healthy blockhead, but you roar! I’m married, you have children.
“Your ... ticket! ..” the chief conductor addresses the mower in the cylinder.
- Ha?
- Your ... tickets! Turn around
- A ticket? What is needed?
- Ticket !!!
- We understand ... Why not give, if necessary? Yes! - A mowing man in a top hat creeps in his bosom and at a speed of two and a half points per hour pulls out greasy paper from there and hands it to the controller.
- Who are you giving? This is a passport! You give me a ticket!
- I have no other ticket! - says the mower, apparently alarmed.
“How do you ride when you don't have a ticket?”
- Yes, I paid.
- To whom did you pay? What are you lying?
- Conduction.
- Which one?
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She admitted, however, and allowed him his love, but persistently announced that she did not want to constrain herself in any way; that she until the wedding (if the wedding takes place) reserves the right to say no, at least at the very last hour; Ghana provides exactly the same right. Soon Ganya learned positively, through an opportunistic case, that the hostility of his whole family to this marriage and to Nastasya Filippovna personally, which was revealed by home scenes, was already known to Nastasya Filippovna in great detail; she herself did not talk about it with him, although he waited daily. However, one could tell a lot more from all the stories and circumstances that emerged about this matchmaking and negotiations; but we already ran ahead, especially since some of the circumstances were still in the form of too vague rumors. For example, as if Totsky had somehow learned that Nastasya Filippovna had entered into some sort of vague and secret relationship with the girls of the Epanchins, it was a completely unbelievable rumor. But he involuntarily believed another rumor and was afraid of it to a nightmare: he heard for sure that Nastasya Filippovna seemed to know to the highest degree that Ganya would marry only with money, that Ganya’s soul was black, greedy, impatient, envious and immense, not proportional proud of anything; that although Ganya really passionately sought victory over Nastasya Filippovna before, but when both friends decided to exploit this passion, which began on both sides, in their favor and buy Ganya by selling him Nastasya Filippovna as his lawful wife, he hated her as his nightmare.
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The Isotta Fraschini Tipo 8 is an Italian luxury car made between 1919 and 1924.
Tatra 600 Tatraplan from 1949. 4 cylinders, 1.9 L, 71 HP, 130 km/h
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But the jester knows which one! Kondukhtyru, that's all ... Don’t take it, he said, a ticket, we’ll take you anyway ... Well, I didn’t take it ...
- But we'll talk at the station! Madame, your ticket!
The door creaks, opens, and to everyone's surprise, Petrovna enters.
“By force, my mother, I found my carriage ... Whoever takes them apart is the same ... But Pakhoma wasn’t allowed in, aspids ... Where is my handbag?”
- Um ... Temptation ... I threw it through the window! I thought you stayed!
- Where did you drop it?
- Out the window ... Who knew you?
- Thank you ... Who asked you? Well, yes, and a witch, God forgive me! So what's now? I haven’t abandoned mine, paskuda ... You better throw your face! Ahhh ... the shtob got out of you!
- It will be necessary to wire from the next station! - advises the laughing audience.
Petrovna begins to vote and wickedly wickedly. Her friend holds on to her bag and also cries. A conductor enters.
- Whose wshh ... chi! He cries out, holding Petrovna's things in his hands.
- Pretty! - whispers to me my vis-à-vis old man, nodding at a pretty one. - Hmmm ... horror-eyed ... Damn it, there is no chloroform! I would give her a sniff, and kiss on all the shoulder blades! Fortunately everyone is sleeping! ..
The straw hat tosses and turns out loud and angry at its naughty legs.
“Scientists ...” he mutters. - Scientists ... I suppose you won’t go against the nature of things and objects! .. Scientists ... um ... I suppose they won’t make their legs unscrew and screw according to their will!
- I have nothing to do with it ... Ask a fellow prosecutor! - My neighbor investigator raves.
In the far corner, two gymnasium students, a non-commissioned officer and a young man in blue glasses in the light of four cigarettes are fried in a cartouche ...
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Passion and hatred seemed strange in his soul, and although he finally gave, after painful hesitation, consent to marry a “bad woman”, he himself vowed in his soul to bitterly note her for this and “drive” her later, as if he I would put it myself. Nastasya Filippovna seemed to know all this and was cooking something secretly. Totsky had already feared that even Yepanchin had ceased to report his concerns; but there were moments that he, as a weak man, resolutely reassured himself and quickly resurrected his spirit: he was extremely reassured, for example, when Nastasya Filippovna finally gave the word to both friends that in the evening, on her birthday, she would say the last word. But the strangest and most incredible rumor concerning the most respected Ivan Fedorovich, alas! more and more proved to be true.
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Here, at first glance, everything seemed like pure game. It was hard to believe that, if Ivan Fedorovich, in the old age of his venerable years, with his excellent mind and positive knowledge of life, etc., etc., was seduced by Nastasya Filippovna himself - but it would seem to such an extent that this whim was almost like passion. What he hoped in this case is hard to imagine; maybe even to assist Ghani himself. Totsky was suspected of at least something of the kind, the existence of some kind of almost silent agreement, based on mutual penetration, between the general and Ganei was suspected. However, it is known that a person who is too carried away by passion, especially if he is in his years, becomes completely blind and is ready to suspect hope where there is none at all; moreover, it loses its mind and acts like a stupid child, even if it were seven spans in the forehead. It was known that the general prepared for his birthday Nastasya Filippovna from himself as a gift an amazing pearl, which cost a huge amount, and was very interested in this gift, although he knew that Nastasya Filippovna was a disinterested woman. On the eve of Nastasya Filippovna’s birthday, he was in a fever, although he deftly hid himself. It was this pearl that was heard by General Yepanchin. True, Elizaveta Prokofievna had long since begun to experience the windiness of her spouse, even partially used to her; but it was impossible to miss such a case: the rumor of pearls was extremely interesting to her. The General tracked it down well in advance; other words were said the day before; he foresaw a thorough explanation and was afraid of it. That is why he terribly did not want to go to breakfast in the bowels of the family that morning with which we began the story. Even before the prince, he set out to excuse himself with deeds and avoid. Avoiding the general sometimes meant simply escaping. He wanted at least one this day and, most importantly, tonight to win without trouble. And suddenly, by the way, the prince came. “Surely God sent!” The general thought to himself, entering his wife.
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To my right sits a tall lady of the breed “of course”. It is full of powder and patchouli.
- Ah, what a charm this road! - a goose whispers above her ear, whispers cloyingly to ... to disgust, somehow pronouncing the letters g, n and r in a french way. - Nowhere so fast and pleasant is the rapprochement like on the road! I love you, road!
Kiss ... Another ... God knows what! A pretty one wakes up, looks around the audience and ... unconsciously lays her head on the shoulder of a neighbor, the priest of Themis ... and he, a fool, is sleeping !!
The train stops. Substation.
“The train costs two minutes ...” a husky, cracked bass mutters outside the car. Two minutes pass, two more pass ... Five, ten, twenty pass, and the train is still standing. What the hell? I get out of the car and head to the locomotive.
- Ivan Matveich! Soon you finally? Heck! Shouts the chief-conductor under the locomotive.
A driver is crawling out from under the locomotive on his belly, red, wet, with a piece of soot on his nose ...
- Do you have a god or not? - he turns to the chief conductor. “Are you human or not?” What are you customizing? Can't you see what? Ahh ... so that you all get out! .. Is this a locomotive? This is not a locomotive, but a rag! I can not carry it!
- What to do?
- Do whatever you want! Come on, but I won’t go on this one! Yes, you enter the position ...
Assistant drivers run around a faulty locomotive, knock, shout ... The head of the station in a red cap stands next to and tells his assistant anecdotes from a fun Jewish life ... It's raining ... I'm heading for the car ... A stranger in a straw hat rushes past and dark gray blouse ... In his hands a suitcase. This suitcase is mine ... Oh my god!
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The general was jealous of her origin. What was it like, directly and without preparation, to hear that this last kind of prince Myshkin, about whom she had already heard something, was no more than a miserable idiot and almost a beggar and was accepting alms for poverty. The general beat the effect precisely in order to interest him at once, to divert everything somehow to the other side.
In extreme cases, the general usually rolled out her eyes extremely and, leaning back slightly with her body, looked indefinitely in front of herself, without saying a word. This was a tall woman, of the same age as her husband, with dark, with a lot of gray hair, but still thick hair, with a slightly hunchbacked nose, lean, with yellow, sunken cheeks and thin, sunken lips. Her forehead was high, but narrow; gray, rather large eyes had the most unexpected expression sometimes. She once had the weakness to believe that her gaze was unusually spectacular; this conviction remained indelible in her.
- To accept? You say accept it, now, now? - and the general with all her might rolled her eyes to Ivan Fedorovich, who was bustling about before her.
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Oh, on this score you can without any ceremony, if only you, my friend, want to see him, ”the general hastened to explain. “A perfect child, and even so pathetic;” he has some painful seizures; he is now from Switzerland, just out of the carriage, dressed strangely, somehow in German, and in addition a penny, literally; almost crying. I gave him twenty-five rubles and I want to get him a clerical place in our office. And you, mesdames, I ask him to have a treat because he seems to be hungry ...
“You surprise me,” the generals continued, “hungry and seizures!” What seizures?
- Oh, they do not repeat so often, and moreover, he is almost like a child, though educated. I was you, mesdames, ”he again turned to his daughters,“ I wanted to ask you to examine him, but it would be nice to know what he is capable of. ”
- Pro-ek-for-me-no-vat? The general said, and in deepest amazement she began again to roll her eyes from her daughters to her husband and back.
“Ah, my friend, do not give such a meaning ... however, as you wish; I meant to caress him and introduce him to us, because it is almost a good deed.
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Mikhail Ivanovich! Cried the old prince to the architect, who, having taken up the fries, hoped that they had forgotten about him. “Did I tell you that Bonaparte is a great tactician?” There he is.
“Well, Your Excellency,” answered the architect.
The prince laughed again with his cold laugh.
- Bonaparte was born in a shirt. His soldiers are wonderful. Yes, and at first he attacked the Germans. But the Germans only did not beat the lazy. Since the world is standing, the Germans have all been beaten. And they are nobody. Only each other. He made his glory on them.
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Introduce to us? From Switzerland ?!
- Switzerland will not hurt here, but by the way, I repeat, as you want. I’m because, firstly, I have a namesake and maybe even a relative, and secondly, I don’t know where to put the chapter. I even thought that it would be somewhat interesting to you, since it is from our surname.
- Of course, maman, if you can with him without ceremony; besides, he wants to eat from the road, why not feed, if he does not know where to go? - said the eldest, Alexandra.
- And in addition, a perfect child, you can still play with him in blindfolds.
- Play blindfolds? How?
“Ah, maman, stop introducing yourself, please,” Aglaya interrupted with annoyance.
Average, Adelaide, mocking, could not stand it and laughed.
“Call him, papa, maman allows,” Aglaya decided. The general called and ordered the prince to be called.
“But in order to be sure to tie a napkin to his neck when he sits at the table,” the general decided, “call Fedor, or let Mavra ... to stand behind him and look after him when he will eat.” Is he at least calm? Does it make gestures?
- On the contrary, even very nice mannered and with excellent manners. Sometimes a little too rustic ... Yes, here he is! Well, I recommend the last of his kind, Prince Myshkin, a namesake and maybe even a relative, accept, caress. Now they’re going to have breakfast, prince, so do your honor ... But I'm sorry, I'm late, I'm in a hurry ...
“We know where you are in a hurry,” the general said importan
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And the prince began to sort out all the mistakes that, according to his concepts, Bonaparte made in all his wars and even in state affairs. The son did not mind, but it was clear that, no matter what the arguments presented to him, he was as little able to change his mind as the old prince. Prince Andrei listened, refraining from objections and involuntarily wondering how this old man, sitting for so many years without a break in the village, in such detail and with such subtlety know and discuss all the military and political circumstances of Europe in recent years.
“Do you think I, old man, do not understand the current state of affairs?” He concluded. - And here it is to me! I do not sleep at night. Well, where is this great commander of yours, where did he show himself?
“That would be long,” answered the son.
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It was difficult for me, because I did not know anyone. But once someone called him by his last name on the street, when I followed him from afar, as if attached to him, and now I recognized his last name. Another time I followed him to his apartment and found out from the janitor where he lived, on which floor, alone or with someone, etc. - in a word, everything that can be learned from the janitor. Once in the morning, although I had never literary, I suddenly came up with the idea of describing this officer in abbreviation, in caricature, in the form of a story. I enjoyed writing this story. I denounced, even slandered; I so falsified the surname at first that I could immediately find out, but then, after mature reasoning, I changed it and sent it to the "Domestic Notes". But then there were no accusations, and my story was not published. I was very annoyed. Sometimes anger just choked me. Finally, I decided to challenge my opponent to a duel. I composed a beautiful, attractive letter to him, begging him to apologize to me; in case of refusal, he hinted rather firmly at a duel. The letter was so composed that if the officer had a little understanding of “beautiful and tall,” he would certainly come running to me to throw himself on my neck and offer his friendship. And how good it would be! We would have healed like that! so healed! He would protect me with his dignity; I would ennoble him with my development, well ... ideas, and there could be a lot of something! Imagine that two years had already passed then when he offended me, and my challenge was an ugly anachronism, despite all the dexterity of my letter, which explained and covered up the anachronism. But, thank God (I still thank the Almighty with tears), I did not send my letter.
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Hurry, hurry, my friend, late! Yes give him your albums, mesdames, let him write to you there; what a calligrapher he is, so rare! Talent; there, he crossed out with my old hand: “The Abbot Paphnutius put his hand in it” ... Well, bye.
- Paphnutius? Mother Superior? Yes, wait, wait, where are you and what kind of Paphnutius is there? - with persistent chagrin and almost in alarm, the general shouted to the escaping spouse.
- Yes, yes, my friend, it was such a hegumen in the old days ... and I have been waiting for the count for a long time, and, most importantly, I have appointed myself ... Prince, bye!
The general with quick steps left.
“I know to which count he is!” - sharply said Elizaveta Prokofievna and irritably turned her eyes to the prince. - What the hell! She began, recalling squeamishly and annoyingly, “well, what’s there!” Oh yes: well, what is hegumen there?
“Maman,” Alexandra began, and Aglaya even stamped her foot.
“Do not bother me, Alexandra Ivanovna,” the general said to her, “I also want to know.” Sit down here, prince, on this armchair, on the contrary, no, here, closer to the sun, to the light, move closer so that I can see. Well, what is hegumen there?
“Hegumen Paphnutius,” answered the prince carefully and seriously.
- Paphnutius? It is interesting; Well, what is he?
The general asked impatiently, quickly, sharply, not taking her eyes off the prince, and when the prince answered, she nodded her head after every word he said.
“Hegumen Paphnutiy, of the fourteenth century,” the prince began, “he ruled the desert on the Volga, in our present Kostroma province. He was known for his holy life, traveled to the Horde, helped arrange the affairs of the time and signed under one letter, and I saw a picture from this signature. I liked the handwriting and I memorized it. When the general wanted to see how I write this morning to identify me, I wrote several phrases in different fonts, and among other things, “Abbot Paphnutius put his hand” in his own handwriting by Father Superior Paphnutius. The general really liked it, so now he remembered.
“Aglaya,” said the general, “remember: Paphnutius, or better write it down, otherwise I always forget.” However, I thought it would be more interesting. Where is this signature?
- It remains, it seems, in the general’s office, on the table.
- Now send and bring.
“Yes, I’d better write you another time, if you wish.”
“Of course, maman,” said Alexandra, “and now it would be better to have breakfast;” we want to eat.
“And then,” the generals decided. - Come on, prince; do you really want to eat?
- Yes, now I wanted to very, very grateful to you.
“It is very good that you are polite, and I notice that you are not at all ... an eccentric, as you were recommended to recommend.” Come along. Sit down here, opposite me, ”she fussed, seating the prince when they came to the dining room,“ I want to look at you. ” Alexander, Adelaide, treat the prince. Is it not true that he is not at all so ... sick? Maybe you don’t even need a napkin ... Prince, did you tie a napkin for a meal?
- Before,“However, ma chère, this is a glorious thing,” said the count and, noting that the eldest guest did not listen to him, he turned to the young ladies: “The quarter figure was a good figure, I imagine.”
And he, imagining how the quarterly waved his hands, again laughed out loud and bass laughter, shaking his whole body, like people laughing, always eating well and especially drinking. “So, please, have lunch with us,” he said.
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Ege, here you are! - really surprised at last Rogozhin. “Ugh, hell, he really knows.”
- He knows everything! Lebedev knows everything! I, your Grace, have traveled with Likhachev Aleksashka for two months, and also after the death of my parent, and everything, that is, I know all the corners and alleys, and without Lebedev, has come to the point. Now he is present in the debt department, and then Armans, and Coralia, and Princess Patskaya, and Nastasya Filippovna had a chance to learn, and a lot of things had a chance to learn.
- Nastasya Filippovna? But is she with Likhachev ... ”Rogozhin looked at him viciously, even his lips turned pale and trembled.
- N-nothing! N-N-Nothing! As there is nothing! - the official came to his senses and hurried up quickly, - Likhachev couldn’t get by any means, that is, money! No, it's not like Armans. There is only Totsky. Yes, in the evening at the Big Ali in the French Theater in his own bed sits. The officers there say little between themselves, and even they can’t prove anything: “well, they say, this is the same Nastasya Filippovna,” and that’s all; and as for the future - nothing! Because there is nothing.
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There was a morning mess in her room: on the table were secret dishes, an unfinished roll, eggshell; strong, asphyxiating smell of perfume. The bed was not made up, and it was obvious that two were sleeping on it. Ariadne herself recently got out of bed and was now in a flannel blouse, not combed.
I greeted, then sat silently for a minute while she tried to put her hair in order, and asked, trembling with her whole body:
- Why ... why did you write me here abroad?
Apparently, she guessed what I was thinking; she took my hand and said:
“I want you to be here.” You are so clean!
I was ashamed of my excitement, my trembling. And suddenly I still sob! I went out without saying a word, and an hour later I was already sitting in the carriage. For some reason I imagined Ariadne pregnant all the way, and she was disgusting to me, and all the women whom I saw in the cars and at the stations seemed somehow pregnant to me and were also disgusting and miserable. I was in the position of that greedy, passionate greedy man who would suddenly discover that all his gold coins are false. The pure, graceful images that my imagination, fueled by love, my plans, hopes, my memories, my views on love and woman, cherished for so long, now all this was laughing at me and showing me the language. Ariadne, I asked in horror, this young, remarkably beautiful, intelligent girl, the daughter of a senator, in connection with such an ordinary, uninteresting vulgarity? But why should she not love Lubkov? I answered myself. Why is he worse than me? Oh, let her love whom she pleases, but why lie? But why on earth should she be frank with me? And so on, everything like that, to the point of stupefaction. And the car was cold. I drove in the first class, but there are three in one on the couch, there are no double frames, the outer door opens directly in the compartment, and I felt as if in pads, squeezed, abandoned, miserable, and my legs were terribly chilly, and, in at the same time and now it came to mind how seductive she was today in her blouse and with her hair loose, and such intense jealousy suddenly seized me that I jumped up from heartache, and my neighbors looked at me with surprise and even fear .
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This is all true, - Rogozhin confirmed gloomily and stupidly, - then Zalezhev also told me. I then, the prince, in my father’s third-year-old father-in-law, passed across Nevsky, and she left the store, got into the carriage. So I burned here. I meet Zalezhev, he is not my couple, he walks like a clerk from a hairdresser, and lorgnit in the eye, and we at the parent in oiled boots and on lean soup were different. She says that she’s not your couple, she’s said, the princess, and her name is Nastasya Filippovna, the last name of Barashkov, and lives with Totsky, and Totsky now does not know how to get rid of her, that is why he has reached the present, fifty-five, and he wants to marry the first beautiful woman in all of St. Petersburg. Then he suggested to me that today you can see Nastasya Filippovna at the Bolshoi Theater, in ballet, in her box, in the benoir, she will sit. With us, at the parent, try to go to the ballet - one reprisal will kill! However, I, however, secretly escaped for an hour and saw Nastasya Filippovna again; I didn’t sleep all that night. The next morning, the dead man gives me two five-percent tickets, five thousand each, get off, say, yes, sell, yes, seven thousand and five hundred to the Andreevs at the office, demolish, pay, and imagine the rest change from ten thousand without going anywhere; I will wait for you. I sold the tickets, I took the money, but I didn’t go to the Andreev’s office, but went without looking anywhere, to the English store and bought a pair of pendants, one diamond in each, almost like a nut, four hundred rubles should stayed, the name said, believed. With pendants I am to Zalezhev: so and so, let's go, brother, to Nastasya Filippovna. Set off. What’s under my feet then, what’s before me, what’s on my sides — I don’t know anything and don’t remember. They went right into her room, she herself came to us. That is, then I did not say that I myself am; and “from Parfen, they say, Rogozhin,” says Zalezhev
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When Anna Mikhailovna left with her son to Count Kirill Vladimirovich Bezukhov, Countess Rostov sat alone for a long time, putting a handkerchief to her eyes. Finally she called.
“What are you, dear,” she said angrily to the girl, who kept herself waiting for several minutes. - Do not want to serve, or what? So I will find you a place.
The countess was upset by the grief and the humiliating poverty of her friend and therefore was not in the spirit, which was always expressed in her by the name of the maid “dear” and “you”.
“Guilty, sir,” the maid said.
“Ask the count for me.”
The count, waddling over, approached his wife with a somewhat guilty look, as always.
“Well, countess!” what a sauté au madère 1 of the grouse will be, ma chère! I tried; not without reason I gave a thousand rubles for Tarascu. Worth it!
He sat beside his wife, elbowing his young hands on his knees and ruffling gray hair.
“What do you want, Countess?”
- Here's what, my friend, - what is it that you have gotten soiled here? She said, pointing to the vest. “It's a saute, right,” she added, smiling. “That's what, Count: I need money.”
Her face became sad.
“Ah, countess! ..” And the count fussed, taking out his wallet.
“I need a lot, Count, I need five hundred rubles.” - And she, taking out a cambric shawl, rubbed her husband’s vest with them.
- Now. Hey who is there He shouted in a voice that only people shout, convinced that those whom they cry would headlong rush to their call. - Send me to Mitenka!
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Mitenka, that noble son, brought up by the count, who now was in charge of all his affairs, quietly walked into the room.
“That's what, my dear,” said the count to the respectful young man who had entered. “Bring me ...” He thought. - Yes, seven hundred rubles, yes. Yes, look, torn and dirty, like that time, do not bring, but good ones, for the countess.
“Yes, Mitya, please, so that they are clean,” said the countess, sighing sadly.
“Your Excellency, when do you order to deliver? - said Mitenka. “Please know that ... However, do not be so kind as to worry,” he added, noticing how the count had already begun to breathe heavily and often, which was always a sign of anger beginning. - I was and forgot ... Will you order this minute to deliver?
- Yes, yes, bring it. Here give the countess.
“What kind of gold do I have this Mitenka,” the count added, smiling when the young man came out. - Not that it is impossible. I can’t stand it. Everything is possible.
- Ah, money, count, money, how much grief they have in the world! Said the countess. - And I really need this money.
“You, countess, are a well-known winder,” said the count, and kissing his wife's hand, he went back to his office.
When Anna Mikhailovna returned again from Bezukhov, the countess already had money, all in brand new pieces of paper, under a scarf on a table, and Anna Mikhailovna noticed that the countess was disturbed by something.
“Well then, my friend?” The countess asked.
“Ah, what a terrible situation he is in!” You can’t recognize him, he’s so bad, so bad: I stayed a minute and did not say two words ...
“Annette, for God's sake, do not refuse me,” the countess said suddenly, blushing, what was so strange with her middle-aged, thin and important face, taking money from her scarf.
Anna Mikhailovna instantly understood what was happening, and she bent down so that she could deftly hug the countess in due time.
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- Here is Boris from me, for sewing a uniform ...
Anna Mikhailovna already hugged her and cried. The countess cried too. They cried that they were friendly; and that they are kind; and that they, girlfriends of youth, are occupied with such a low subject - money; and that their youth had passed ... But the tears of both were pleasant.
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Countess Rostova with her daughters and already with a large number of guests was sitting in the living room. The Earl led the male guests into the study, offering them his hunting collection of Turkish pipes. Occasionally he would go out and ask: didn’t he come? They were waiting for Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, nicknamed in the society le terrible dragon 1, a lady famous not for wealth, not for honors, but for her direct mind and frank simplicity of appeal. Marya Dmitrievna knew the royal family, knew all of Moscow and all of Petersburg, and both cities, surprised at her, secretly laughed at her rudeness, told jokes about her; Nevertheless, without exception, everyone respected and feared her.
In the office, full of smoke, there was talk of war, which was declared a manifesto, of recruitment. No one has read the manifesto yet, but everyone knew about its appearance. The count sat on an ottoman between two smokers and talking neighbors. The count himself did not smoke and did not speak, but, tilting his head now on one side, then on the other, with apparent pleasure looked at the smokers and listened to the conversation of his two neighbors, whom he pitted among themselves.
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One of the speakers was a civilian, with a wrinkled, gall and shaved, thin face, a man who was already approaching old age, although he was dressed as the most fashionable young man; he sat with his legs on the ottoman with the appearance of a domestic man, and, sideways, throwing amber into his mouth, pulled in a gust of smoke and squinted. It was an old bachelor Shinshin, a cousin of the countess, an evil tongue, as they said about him in Moscow living rooms. He seemed to be condescending to his interlocutor. Another fresh, pink guard officer, spotlessly washed, buttoned and combed, held amber in the middle of his mouth and gently pulled the haze with his pink lips, releasing it from the beautiful mouth with ringlets. It was that lieutenant Berg, an officer of the Semenovsky regiment, with whom Boris was traveling together in the regiment and with whom Natasha teased Vera, the senior countess, calling Berg her fiancé. The count sat between them and listened attentively. The earliest enjoyment for the count, with the exception of the Boston game, which he loved very much, was the listening position, especially when he managed to pit two talkative interlocutors.
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La balance y est ... 4 A German threshes a loaf of bread on a butt, comme dit le proverbe 5, - shifting amber to the other side of his mouth, Shinshin said and winked at the count.
The count burst out laughing. Other guests, seeing that Chinshin was talking, came to listen. Berg, not noticing neither ridicule nor indifference, continued to talk about how, by transferring to the guard, he had already won the rank before his comrades in the corps, how they could kill a company commander in wartime and, remaining senior in the company, it could very easily be a company and how everyone in the regiment loves him, and how his daddy is pleased with him. Berg, apparently, enjoyed telling all this, and, it seemed, did not suspect that other people could have their own interests too. But everything he told was so sweet, sedate, the naivety of his young egoism was so obvious that he disarmed his listeners.
- Well, father, you are in the infantry and cavalry, everywhere you go to move; I predict this for you, ”said Shinshin, patting him on the shoulder and lowering his legs from the ottoman.
Berg smiled happily. Earl, and after him the guests went into the living room.
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There was a time before the dinner party when the guests gathered did not start a long conversation in anticipation of a call for a snack, but at the same time considered it necessary to move and not be silent in order to show that they were not at all impatient to sit down at the table. The owners glance at the door and occasionally glance at each other. The guests from these views try to guess who or what else they are waiting for: an important late relative or a meal that has not yet ripened.
Pierre arrived just before dinner and sat awkwardly in the middle of the living room on the first armchair that came across, blocking the way for everyone. The countess wanted to make him speak, but he naively looked into the glasses around him, as if looking for someone, and answered monosyllabically all the questions of the countess. He was shy and alone did not notice it. Most of the guests, who knew his story with the bear, looked curiously at this large, fat and meek man, wondering how such a laziness and a modest man could do such a thing with a quarter.
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Oui, madame 6, he answered, looking around.
“Have you seen my husband?”
“Non, madame 7,” he smiled quite inappropriately.
“You seem to have been to Paris recently?” I think it’s very interesting.
- Very interesting.
The countess exchanged a glance with Anna Mikhailovna. Anna Mikhailovna realized that she was being asked to take this young man, and, having sat down to him, began to talk about her father; but just like the countess, he answered her only in monosyllables. The guests were all busy among themselves.
- Les Razoumovsky ... Ça a été charmant ... Vous êtes bien bonne ... La comtesse Apraksine ... 8 - was heard from all sides. The countess got up and went into the hall.
- Marya Dmitrievna? - heard her voice from the hall.
“She herself,” a gruff female voice was heard in reply, and after that Marya Dmitrievna entered the room.
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Well, what, my Cossack? (Marya Dmitrievna called Natasha a Cossack), she said, caressing Natasha, who approached her hand without fear and cheerfully. - I know that the potion is a girl, but I love.
She took the yachting earrings from the huge reticule into pears and, giving them to Natasha's name-shining and reddened, she immediately turned away from her and turned to Pierre.
- Uh, uh! kind! come here, ”she said in a mockingly quiet and subtle voice. - Come on, my dear ...
And she menacingly rolled up her sleeves even higher.
Pierre came up, looking naively at her through the glasses.
- Come, come, my dear! I told your father alone the truth when he was in the case, and God tells you something.
She was silent for a moment. Everyone was silent, waiting for what would happen, and feeling that there was only a preface.
“Good, nothing to say!” a good boy! .. Father is lying on his bed, and he is amusing himself, he is riding a quarter on a bear. I am ashamed, father, ashamed! It would be better to go to war.
She turned away and offered her hand to the count, who could hardly resist laughing.
- Well, well, to the table, I'm tea, it's time? Said Marya Dmitrievna.
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Ahead went the count with Marya Dmitrievna; then the countess, led by a hussar colonel, the right person, with whom Nikolai had to catch up with the regiment. Anna Mikhailovna - with Shinshin. Berg gave Vera a hand. Smiling Julie Karagin went with Nikolai to the table. They were followed by other couples, stretching across the hall, and behind each one, children, tutors and governesses. The waiters began to stir, the chairs thundered, music played in the choirs, and the guests were accommodated. The sounds of the Count's home music were replaced by the sounds of knives and forks, the guests' talk, the quiet steps of the waiters. At one end of the table at the head was the countess. On the right is Marya Dmitrievna, on the left is Anna Mikhailovna and other guests. On the other end sat a count, a hussar colonel on the left, Shinshin on the right and other male guests. On one side of the long table, older youth are: Vera next to Berg, Pierre next to Boris; on the other hand, children, tutors, and governesses. The count, from behind crystal glass, bottles and a vase of fruit, glanced at his wife and her tall cap with blue ribbons and diligently poured wine to his neighbors, not forgetting himself. The countess also, because of pineapples, not forgetting the duties of the hostess, threw significant glances at her husband, whose bald head and face, it seemed to her, were sharper in their redness than gray hair. On the ladies end there was a uniform babble; voices were heard louder and louder on the man’s
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Berg spoke with Faith with a tender smile that love is not heavenly, but heavenly. Boris called his new friend Pierre the former guests at the table and exchanged glances with Natasha, who was sitting against him. Pierre spoke little, looked around for new faces and ate a lot. Starting from two soups, from which he chose à la tortue 9, and coulibiacs to grouse, he did not miss a single dish or a single wine, which the butler mysteriously protruded from a neighbor’s shoulder over a neighbor’s shoulder, saying: or “dreimadera” ”, Or“ Hungarian, ”or“ rainwine. ” He substituted the first one of the four crystal, with the monogram of the count, glasses that stood in front of each device, and drank with pleasure, looking more and more pleasantly at the guests. Natasha, who was sitting against him, was looking at Boris, as the girls of thirteen years were looking at the boy with whom they had just kissed for the first time and with whom they were in love. This very look of her sometimes turned to Pierre, and under the look of this funny, lively girl he wanted to laugh himself, not knowing what.
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Nikolai sat far from Sonya, beside Julie Karagina, and again with the same involuntary smile, spoke to her. Sonya smiled smartly, but apparently was tormented by jealousy: now she turned pale, now blushed and listened with all her might to what Nikolai and Julie were saying to each other. The governess looked around uneasily, as if preparing for a rebuff, if anyone had the intention to offend the children. The German teller tried to remember all kinds of dishes, desserts and wines in order to describe everything in detail in letters to his family in Germany, and was very offended by the fact that the butler wrapped it in a bottle wrapped in a napkin. The German frowned, tried to show the appearance that he did not want to get this wine, but was offended because no one wanted to understand that he did not need the wine in order to quench his thirst, not out of greed, but out of bona fide curiosity.
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At home I found snowdrifts and twenty-degree frost. I love winter, I love, because at this time at home, even in the bitter frosts, I felt especially warm. It's nice to put on a fur coat and boots, on a clear frosty day, to do something in the garden or in the yard, or to read in your own hotly heated room, to sit in your father’s office in front of the fireplace, to wash in your village bathhouse ... Only now, if not in the house of a mother, sister or children, it’s somehow creepy on winter evenings, and they seem unusually long and quiet. And the warmer and more comfortable, the stronger this absence is felt. That winter, when I returned from abroad, the evenings were long, long, I was very homesick and could not even read from longing; in the afternoon still back and forth, you will clean the snow in the garden, then you will feed the hens and calves, and in the evenings - even disappear.
Before, I didn’t like guests, now I’m glad to see them, because I knew that there would certainly be a conversation about Ariadne. Spirit Kotlovich often came to talk about his sister, and sometimes he brought with him his friend Prince Maktuev, who was in love with Ariadne no less than mine. Sitting in Ariadne’s room, fingering the keys of her piano, looking at her notes was already a necessity for the prince, he could not live without it, and the spirit of Grandfather Hilarion continued to predict that sooner or later she would be his wife. Usually the prince sat for a long time, from breakfast to midnight, and he was silent; silently drank bottles of two or three beers, and only occasionally to show that he was also participating in the conversation, laughing in a jerky, sad, silly laugh. Before leaving home, he always took me aside and said in an undertone:
- When was the last time you saw Ariadne Grigoryevna? Is she healthy? I think she’s not bored there?
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At the male end of the table, the conversation grew more and more lively. The colonel said that the manifesto on declaring war had already been issued in St. Petersburg and that the copy that he himself had seen had been delivered by courier to the commander in chief.
“And why is it not easy for us to fight with Bonaparte?” - said Shinshin. - Il a déjà rabattu le caquet à l'Autriche. Je crains que cette fois ce ne soit notre tour 1.
The colonel was a stout, tall and sanguine German, apparently a servant and patriot. He was offended by the words of Shinshin.
“And zatam, a soapy sovereign,” he said, pronouncing e instead of e and b instead of b. - Zatam, that the emperor knows. He in the manifesto said that ne mozhet looks indifferent at the dangers threatening Russia, that the security of the empire, its dignity and the sanctity of unions, ”he said, for some reason especially leaning on the word“ unions ”, as if that was the essence of the matter.
And with his characteristic infallible, official memory, he repeated the opening speech of the manifesto: “and the sovereign’s desire, the sole and indispensable goal of which is to establish peace in Europe on solid foundations — they now decided to move part of the army abroad and make new efforts to achieve this intention” .
“Here is the reason, the soapy sovereign,” he concluded edifyingly, drinking a glass of wine and looking back at the count for encouragement.
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to you in memory of yesterday’s meeting; deign to accept. " She opened, looked, grinned: “Thank, says, your friend Mr. Rogozhin for his kind attention,” she bowed and left. Well, that’s why I didn’t die here then! Yes, even if he went, because he thought: “Anyway, I won’t return alive!” And it seemed to me most offensive that this beast Zalezhev had taken over everything. I’m both small and dressed like a lackey, and I stand, silent, I stare at her, that’s embarrassing, and he is fashionable, in lipstick and curled, ruddy, checkered necktie - and it crumbles, and it’s opened up, and so probably she took him here instead of me! “Well, I say, how did we get out, now you don’t dare to think here, you understand!” Laughs: “But will you somehow give a report to Semyon Parfenych now?” I really wanted to go into the water at the same time, I’m not going home, but I think, “It’s all the same anyway,” and he cursed back home.
- Oh! Wow - the official was curving, and even a trembling made his way through it, - and the dead man wasn’t squeezing for ten thousand rubles, ”he nodded to the prince. The prince examined Rogozhin with curiosity; he seemed even paler at that moment.
- "Lived"! - spoke Rogozhin. “What do you know?” Immediately, he continued to the prince, he found out about everything, and Zalezhev went to talk to everyone he met. A parent took me, and locked upstairs, and taught for an hour. “It’s just me, he says, that I am preparing you, but I’ll come with you for the night to say goodbye.” What do you think? The gray-haired went to Nastasya Filippovna, bowed to her on the earth, begged and cried; She finally brought him a box, flipped it: “Here, he says, you old beard, your earrings, and now they are ten times more expensive to me, if Parten got them from under such a thunderstorm. Bow, says, and thank Parfyon Semyonitch. " Well, at that time, by mother’s blessing, I got twenty rubles from Seryozha Protushin and went to Pskov by car and set off, but arrived in a fever; the old women began to read me out as holies, and I sat drunk, and then went to the taverns for the last, and in insensibility spent the whole night on the street and lounged, but in the morning there was a fever, and meanwhile the dogs nibbled overnight. I woke up violently.
- Well, well, now, Nastasya Filippovna will sing with us! - rubbing his hands, the official giggled, - now, sir, what a suspension! Now we will reward such pendants ...
“And the fact that if you ever say a word about Nastasya Filippovna, then, God bless you, I’ll carve you for nothing that you and Likhachev went,” cried Rogozhin, grabbing his arm tightly.
“And if you carve, then you won’t reject it!” Seki! Carved, and thus captured ... And here we are!
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Spring has come. It was necessary to go to draft, then to sow spring and clover. It was sad, but already in the spring: I wanted to put up with the loss. While working in the field and listening to the larks, I asked myself: would I immediately end this question of personal happiness, would I marry a simple peasant girl without any idea? Suddenly, in the midst of work, I receive a letter with an Italian stamp. And the clover, and the apiary, and the calves, and the peasant girl - everything shattered like smoke. This time Ariadne wrote that she was deeply, infinitely unhappy. She reproached me that I did not extend a helping hand to her, but looked at her from the height of my virtue and left her in a moment of danger. All this was written in large nervous handwriting, with blots and blots, and it was evident that she was in a hurry to write and suffered. In conclusion, she begged me to come and save her.
Again, it dropped me from the anchor and suffered. Ariadne lived in Rome. I arrived at her late in the evening and, when she saw me, I sobbed and threw herself on my neck. Over the winter, she did not change at all and was still young and charming. We had dinner together and then roamed around Rome until dawn, and all the time she told me about her life. I asked where Lubkov is.
“Don't remind me of this thing!” She shouted. “He is disgusting and disgusting to me!”
“But you seem to have loved him,” I said.
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Indeed, drove into the voxal. Although Rogozhin said that he had left quietly, several people were already waiting for him. They shouted and waved their hats to him.
- Look, and Zalezhev is here! Muttered Rogozhin, looking at them with a triumphant and even as if vicious smile, and suddenly turned to the prince. “Prince, I don’t know why I fell in love with you.” Maybe because I met him at that moment, but I did meet him (he pointed to Lebedev), but I didn’t love him. Come to me, prince. We’ll take these pins off of you, I’ll put you in the first fur coat, I will sew the first coat for you, a white vest or whatever you like, I’ll fill my pockets with money, and ... we’ll go to Nastasya Filippovna! Will you come or not?
- Listen, Prince Lev Nikolaevich! - Lebedev grasped impressively and solemnly. - Oh, don't miss out! Oh, don't miss out! ..
Prince Myshkin stood up, politely extended his hand to Rogozhin and kindly said to him:
“I will come with great pleasure and thank you very much for having loved me.” Even maybe I’ll come today if I have time. Therefore, I’ll tell you frankly, I really liked you myself, and especially when they talked about diamond pendants. I liked the pendants even before, although you have a gloomy face. I thank you too for the dresses promised to me and for the fur coat, because I really need a dress and a fur coat soon. At the present moment I have almost no money.
- There will be money, by evening, come!
“They will, they will,” the official said, “by evening, before dawn, they will!”
“And to the female, you prince, a big hunter?” Say it earlier!
- I, nn-no! I ... You, maybe, you don’t know, because I don’t even know women due to my natural illness.
“Well, if so,” exclaimed Rogozhin, “you are the prince, you go out holy fool, and God loves people like you!”
“And God loves such,” the official said.
“And you follow me, line,” said Rogozhin to Lebedev, and everyone got out of the car.
Lebedev ended up achieving his goal. Soon the noisy gang departed towards Voznesensky Prospekt. The prince had to turn to Liteiny. It was damp and wet; the prince asked passers-by - there were three versts to the end of the path ahead of him, and he decided to take a cab.
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General Yepanchin lived in his own house, somewhat away from the Foundry, to the Transfiguration Savior. In addition to this (excellent) house, five sixth of which were rented out, General Yepanchin also had a huge house on Sadovaya, which also brought extraordinary income. In addition to these two houses, he had a very profitable and significant estate near St. Petersburg; there was still some kind of factory in Petersburg district. In the old days, General Yepanchin, as everyone knew, participated in the farms. Now he participated and had a very significant voice in some reputable joint-stock companies. He was known as a man with big money, with great pursuits and with great connections. In other places, he managed to become absolutely necessary, by the way, and in his service. Meanwhile, it was also known that Ivan Fedorovich Yepanchin is a man without education and comes from soldiers' children; the latter, no doubt, could only relate to his honor, but the general, although intelligent was a man, was also not without small, very excusable weaknesses and did not like other hints. But an intelligent and dexterous person, he was indisputable. For example, he had a system not to exhibit, where it was necessary to brush up, and many appreciated it precisely for its simplicity, precisely because he always knew his place. But meanwhile, if only these judges knew what happened sometimes in the soul of Ivan Fedorovich, who knew his place so well! Although he really had both practice, and experience in everyday affairs, and some very remarkable abilities, but he liked to make himself more a performer of someone else’s idea than with his king in his head, a man “without devotion,” and - where does the century go? - even Russian and cordial. In the latter respect, even some funny jokes happened to him; but the general never lost heart, even with the most amusing anecdotes; besides, he was lucky, even in the cards, and he played extremely large and even with the intention of not only not wanting to hide his little seemingly weakness for the cards, which was so essential to him in many cases, but also putting it out. Society he was mixed, of course, in any case, "ace." But everything was ahead, time endured, time endured everything, and everything had to come with time and its course. And for years, General Yepanchin was still, as they say, in the juice itself, that is, fifty-six years old and nothing more, which in any case amounts to blooming age, the age from which, truly, true life begins. Health, complexion, strong, although black, teeth, stocky, dense build, a worried expression of physiognomy in the morning at work, a cheerful evening on the cards or at His Grace - all contributed to the present and future successes and strewn the life of His Excellency with roses.
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The general had a flowering family. True, there weren’t all roses here, but there were a lot of things on which the main hopes and goals of His Excellency had already begun to be seriously and cordially focused. Yes, and what, what purpose in life is more important and holier than the goals of parents? Why attach yourself if not to the family? The general's family consisted of a wife and three adult daughters. The general married a very long time ago, while still in the rank of lieutenant, on a girl of almost the same age as him, possessing neither beauty nor education, for which he took only fifty souls, though, and served as the basis for his further fortune. But the general never grumbled subsequently on his early marriage, never harassed him as a hobby for an unruly youth and respected his spouse before and sometimes was afraid of her that he even loved her. The general was from the princely family of the Myshkins, though not brilliant, but very ancient, and respected herself for her origin. Some of the influential people of that time, one of those patrons for whom the protection, however, does not cost anything, agreed to become interested in the marriage of the young princess. He opened the gate to the young officer and pushed him into the move, and he didn’t even push, but only one glance was necessary - he wouldn’t be in vain! With few exceptions, the couple lived all the time of their long anniversary according to. Even in her very young years, the general was able to find herself, as a nee princess and the last of her kind, and maybe by personal qualities, some very high patrons. Subsequently, with the richness and official significance of her spouse, she began even a little in this higher circle to become comfortable.
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The gray-haired valet sat dozing and listening to the snoring of the prince in a huge office. From the far side of the house, due to the shutter doors, twenty times repeated difficult passages of the Düssek Sonata were heard.
At this time, the carriage and the chaise drove up to the porch, and Prince Andrey stepped out of the carriage, dropped off his little wife and let her go forward. Gray-haired Tikhon, in a wig, leaning out of the waiter’s door, whispered in a whisper that the prince was resting, and hurriedly shut the door. Tikhon knew that neither the arrival of his son nor any unusual events should disturb the order of the day. Prince Andrew, apparently, knew this as well as Tikhon; he looked at his watch, as if to believe that his father’s habits had not changed during the time in which he had not seen him, and making sure that they had not changed, he turned to his wife.
“In twenty minutes he will get up.” Let's go to Princess Marya, ”he said.
The little princess grew fat during this time, but her eyes and a short sponge with a mustache and a smile rose as cheerfully and sweetly when she spoke.
“Mais c'est un palais,” she said to her husband, looking around, with that expression with which praise to the owner of the ball is spoken. - Allons, vite, vite! .. 1 - She looked around and smiled at Tikhon, and her husband, and the waiter who accompanied them.
- C'est Marie qui s'exerce? Allons doucement, il faut la surprendre 2.
Prince Andrey followed her with a courteous and sad expression.
“You have grown old, Tikhon,” he said, passing, to the old man kissing his hand.
In front of the room in which the clavichords were heard, a pretty blond Frenchwoman jumped out of the side door. M-lle Bourienne seemed distraught with delight.
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Never! At first it seemed original and aroused pity - that was all. He is impudent, takes a woman by an attack, l it is attractive. But we will not talk about him. This is the sad page of my life. He went to Russia for money - the road is there too! I said that he did not dare to return.
She no longer lived in a hotel, but in a private apartment of two rooms, which she cleaned to her taste, coldly and luxuriously. After Lubkov left, she owed her acquaintances about five thousand francs, and my visit was indeed her salvation. I expected to take her to the village, but I did not succeed. She missed her homeland, but the memories of her poverty, her shortcomings, and the rusty roof on her brother’s house aroused disgust, trembling in her, and when I offered her to go home, she clasped her hands frantically and said:
- No no! I will die there with longing!
Then my love entered its last phase, in its last quarter.
“Be the former dusya, love me a little,” Ariadne said, leaning toward me. - You are gloomy and reasonable, afraid to surrender to the impulse and all think about the consequences, and this is boring. Well, I beg you, I beg you, be affectionate! .. My pure, my saint, my dear, I love you so much!
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In these last years, all three general's daughters have grown up and matured - Alexander, Adelaide and Aglaya. True, all three were only Yepanchins, but by their mother’s princely family, with a considerable dowry, with a parent who later claimed, perhaps, a very high place, and, which is also quite important, all three were remarkably good-looking, not excluding and the eldest, Alexandra, who is already twenty-five years old. The average was twenty-three years, and the youngest, Aglaya, had just turned twenty. This youngest was even quite beautiful and began to attract a lot of attention in the light. But that was not all: all three were distinguished by education, intelligence and talents. It was known that they remarkably loved each other and supported one another. It was even mentioned some kind of donations of two elders in favor of a common domestic idol - the youngest. In society, they not only did not like to exhibit, but were even too modest. No one could reproach them with arrogance and arrogance, but meanwhile they knew that they understand themselves and are proud of the price. The eldest was a musician, the middle was a wonderful painter; but almost no one knew about this for many years, and this was revealed only in the very recent time, and even then by accident. In a word, extremely commendable things were said about them. But there were ill-wishers. With horror it was said about how many books they read. They were not in a hurry to get married; Although they were valued by the well-known circle of society, they were still not very valuable. This was all the more remarkable because everyone knew the direction, character, goals and desires of their parent.
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I became her lover. For at least a month I was like a madman, experiencing one delight. To hold a young, beautiful body in your arms, to enjoy it, to feel its warmth every time you wake up from a dream, and to remember that it is there, it, my Ariadne, - oh, this is not easy to get used to! But I still got used to it and gradually began to relate to my new position consciously. First of all, I realized that Ariadne, as before, did not love me. But she wanted to love seriously, she was afraid of loneliness, and most importantly, I was young, healthy, strong, she was sensual, like all cold people in general - and we both pretended to agree on mutual passionate love. Then I realized something else.
We lived in Rome, in Naples, in Florence; We went to Paris, but it seemed cold there, and we returned to Italy. Everywhere we were recommended by husband and wife, wealthy landowners, we were eagerly acquainted with us, and Ariadne was a great success. Since she took painting lessons, she was called an artist and, imagine, it was very moving towards her, although there was not the slightest talent. She slept every day for up to two, up to three hours; I drank coffee and had breakfast in bed. At dinner, she ate soup, spiny lobster, fish, meat, asparagus, game, and then, when I went to bed, I served her something like roast beef, and she ate it with a sad, worried expression, and woke up at night and ate it apples and oranges.
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They went to the door of the sofa, from which one could hear again and again the repeated passage. Prince Andrei stopped and grimaced, as if expecting something unpleasant.
The princess came in. The passage broke off in the middle; there was a scream, the heavy feet of Princess Mary and the sounds of kisses. When Prince Andrei entered, Princess and Princess, who only briefly saw each other during the wedding of Prince Andrei, clasping their hands, pressed their lips firmly to the places where they had fallen in the first minute. M-lle Bourienne stood beside them, clasping her hands to her heart and smiling devoutly, apparently as much ready to cry as to laugh. Prince Andrew shrugged and grimaced as music lovers frown upon hearing a fake note. Both women let each other go; then again, as if afraid of being late, they grabbed each other's hands, began to kiss and tear off their hands, and then again began to kiss each other in the face, and quite unexpectedly for Prince Andrei, both cried and again began to kiss. M-lle Bourienne also cried. Prince Andrew was obviously embarrassed; but for the two women it seemed so natural that they were crying; they did not seem to suggest that this meeting could otherwise have taken place.
- Ah! chère! .. Ah Marie! .. - suddenly both women spoke and laughed. - J'ai rêvé cette nuit ... - Vous ne nous attendiez donc pas? .. Ah! Marie, vous avez maigri ... - Et vous avez repris ... 5
“J'ai tout de suite reconnu madame la princesse 6,” m-lle Burien put in.
“Et moi qui ne me doutais pas! ..” exclaimed Princess Mary. - Ah! André, je ne vous voyais pas 7.
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The main, so to speak, the main property of this woman was amazing craftiness. She cunningly constantly, every minute, apparently, without any need, but as if by instinct, by the same promptings as the sparrow was tweeting or the cockroach was stirring a mustache. She cunning with me, with lackeys, with the receptionist, with the merchants in the shops, with friends; Not a single conversation, not a single meeting could do without twisting and breaking. It was necessary for a man to enter our room — whoever he was, a garrison or a baron — how she changed her look, expression, voice, and even the contours of her figure changed. If you had seen her then at least once, you would have said that there are no more secular and richer people than us in all of Italy. She did not miss a single artist and musician, so as not to lie to him all nonsense about his wonderful talent.
“You are such a talent!” She said in a sweetly melodious voice. “It’s even scary with you.” I think you should see right through people.
And all this in order to please, be successful, be charming! She woke up every morning with the only thought: “to like me!” And that was the purpose and meaning of her life. If I told her that on such a street in such a house there lives a person who does not like her, then this would make her seriously suffer. Every day she had to charm, captivate, drive crazy. The fact that I was in her power and turned into utter insignificance before her charms gave her the very pleasure that the winners had once experienced in tournaments. My humiliation was not enough, and she still lounged at night, like a tigress, not sheltered - she always felt hot, - read the letters that Lubkov sent her; he begged her to return to Russia, otherwise he vowed to rob someone or kill, only to get money and come to her. She hated him, but his passionate, slavish letters worried her. Of her spell she had an extraordinary opinion; it seemed to her that if somewhere in a crowded meeting they saw how well-built she was and what color her skin was, she would have defeated all of Italy, the whole world. These conversations about addition, about skin color offended me, and when she noticed this, when she was angry to annoy me, she spoke all sorts of vulgarities and teased me, and even reached the point that once at the dacha of one lady she got angry and said to me:
“If you don’t stop bothering me with your teachings, then I will undress and lay naked on these flowers!”
Often, watching how she sleeps or eats, or tries to give her look a naive expression, I thought: why was this extraordinary beauty, grace, mind given to her by God? Is it really just to wallow in bed, eat and lie, lie endlessly? And was she smart? She was afraid of three candles, on the thirteenth, she was horrified by the evil eye and bad dreams, talked about free love and freedom in general, like an old praying mantis, asserted that Boleslav Markovich is better than Turgenev. But she was devilishly cunning and witty, and in society she knew how to seem a very educated, advanced person.
It cost her nothing even in a merry moment to offend the servant, kill the insect; she loved bullfights, she loved to read about the killings and was angry when the defendants were acquitted.
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It was already about eleven o'clock when the prince called the general’s apartment. The general lived on the second floor and occupied a room as modest as possible, albeit proportional to its significance. The livery servant opened the prince, and for a long time he needed to communicate with this man, who had looked suspiciously at him and at his bundle from the very beginning. Finally, to the repeated and accurate statement that he was really Prince Myshkin and that he certainly needed to see the general on a necessary business, a perplexed person took him next to him, to the small front hall, in front of the reception room, and handed him over to another person, who was on duty in the mornings in this front hall and reporting to the general about visitors. This other man was in a tailcoat, had forty years of age and a worried physiognomy, and was a special cabinet servant and reporter of His Excellency, as a result of which he knew his worth.
“Wait in the waiting room, and leave the bundle here,” he said, slowly and importantly sitting down in his chair and looking with stern surprise at the prince, who was right there next to him in a chair, with his bundle in his hands.
“If you will,” said the prince, “I would rather wait here with you, and then what am I alone?”
- In the front you can’t stand, because you are a visitor, otherwise a guest. You to the general himself?
The footman, apparently, could not come to terms with the idea of letting such a visitor in and once again decided to ask him.
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With the life that I and Ariadne led, we needed a lot of money. The poor father sent me his pension, all his incomes, borrowed for me wherever he could, and when he once answered me “non habeo” 5, I sent him a desperate telegram in which I begged to lay down the estate. A little later, I asked him to take somewhere money for a second mortgage. He performed both of them meekly and sent me all the money to the penny. But Ariadne despised the practice of life, she did not care about all this, and when I, throwing thousands of francs to satisfy her crazy desires, grunted like an old tree, she hummed Addio, bella Napoli with a light soul 6. Little- little by little I got cold to her and became ashamed of our connection. I do not like pregnancy and childbirth, but now I sometimes dreamed of a child, who would be at least a formal justification for our life. In order not to oppose myself completely, I began to visit museums and galleries and read books, ate little and stopped drinking. That way you drive yourself on the cord from morning to evening, it is as if it’s easier on the soul.
I'm tired of Ariadne. By the way, the people with whom she was successful were all average people, there were still no messengers and a salon, there was not enough money, and this offended her and made her sob, and she finally announced to me that perhaps she was not averse to Russia. And here we go. In the last months before her departure, she had been e-mailing correspondence with her brother, she obviously had some secret plans, and some of which were good news. I'm already tired of delving into her tricks. But we are not going to the village, but to Yalta, then from Yalta to the Caucasus. Now she can only live in resorts, and if you knew the extent to which I hate all these resorts, how I feel stuffy and ashamed in them. I would now be in the village! I would now work, get bread in the sweat of my face, atone for my mistakes. Now I feel in myself an excess of strength, and it seems to me that, straining these forces, I would redeem the estate in five years. But here, as you see, is a complication. It is not abroad, but Russia, mother, I have to think about a legal marriage. Of course, the hobby has already passed, there is no trace of the former love, but, be that as it may, I am obliged to marry her.
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Shamokhin, excited by his story, and I went downstairs and continued to talk about women. It was too late. It turned out that he and I were in the same cabin.
“So far, only in the villages does a woman keep up with a man,” said Shamokhin, “there she thinks, feels, and struggles with nature as hard in the name of culture as a man.” The urban, bourgeois, intelligent woman has long lagged behind and is returning to her pristine state, by half she is already a man-beast, and thanks to her, much that has been won by human genius has already been lost; a woman gradually disappears, a primitive female sits in her place. This backwardness of an intelligent woman threatens culture with a serious danger; in her regressive movement, she tries to captivate the man behind her and delays his forward movement. This is certain.
I asked: why generalize, why judge all women by one Ariadne? The mere desire of women for education and gender equality, which I understand as the desire for justice, in itself excludes any assumption of a regressive movement. But Shamokhin barely listened to me and smiled incredulously. He was already a passionate, convinced woman hater, and it was impossible to convince him.
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Yes, I have a business ... - began the prince.
“I am not asking you what kind of business it is — my business is only to report on you.” And without a secretary, I said, I won’t go to report on you.
This man's suspicion seemed to increase more and more; too prince did not fit the category of daily visitors, and although the general quite often, almost daily, at a certain time had to receive, especially on business, sometimes even very diverse guests, but, despite the habit and instructions, quite broad, the valet was in big doubt; secretary mediation for the report was necessary.
“Are you sure ... from abroad?” - somehow involuntarily he asked finally - and went astray; maybe he wanted to ask: “Are you surely Prince Myshkin?”
- Yes, now only from the car. It seems to me that you wanted to ask: am I Prince Myshkin exactly? Yes, they did not ask out of politeness.
“Um ...” growled the surprised footman.
“I assure you that I did not lie to you, and you will not be responsible for me.” And what am I in this form and with a knot, then there is nothing to be surprised at: at present my circumstances are plain.
- Um. I fear not that you see. I am obliged to report, and the secretary will come to you, okromya if you ... Here it is that okromya. You do not ask for poverty from the general, dare, if possible, find out?
“Oh no, be absolutely sure of that.” I have another thing.
- Excuse me, but I asked you looking. Wait for the secretary; he is now busy with the colonel, and then the secretary will come ... convivial.
- So, if you wait a long time, then I would ask you: is it possible to smoke somewhere here? I have a pipe and tobacco with me.
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The princess spoke incessantly. The short upper sponge with antennae flew down for a moment, touched the ruddy lower sponge, where necessary, and the smile shining with teeth and eyes reopened. The princess told the incident that was with them on Spasskaya Mountain, which threatened her with a danger in her position, and immediately after that she reported that she had left all her dresses in St. Petersburg and that God would walk around here and that Andrei had completely changed, and that Kitty Odintsova married an old man, and that there is a groom for Princess Mary pour tout de bon 9, but we will talk about this later. Princess Mary was still silently looking at her brother, and in her beautiful eyes there was love and sadness. It was evident that her own train of thought was now established in her, independent of the speeches of her daughter-in-law. She in the middle of her story about the last holiday in St. Petersburg turned to her brother.
“And you are decisively going to war, André?” She said with a sigh.
Lise sighed too.
“Even tomorrow,” the brother answered.
- Il m'abandonne ici, et Dieu sait pourquoi, quand il aurait pu avoir de l'avancement ... 10
Princess Marya didn’t listen and, continuing the thread of her thoughts, turned to the daughter-in-law, with tender eyes pointing to her belly?
- Probably? - she said.
The face of the princess has changed. She sighed.
“Yes, probably,” she said. - Ah! It's very scary...
Lisa's lips fell. She brought her face closer to her sister-in-law's face and again suddenly burst into tears.
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Do you want to smoke? - with contemptuous perplexity looked up at him the valet, as if still not believing his ears, - smoke? No, you should not smoke here, and besides, you are ashamed to keep it in your thoughts. Heh ... wonderful, sir!
“Oh, I didn’t ask in this room; I know; but I’d go somewhere wherever you point, because I’m used to it, but I haven’t smoked for three hours. However, as you wish, and, you know, there is a saying: to someone else’s monastery ...
“Well, how will I report such a thing about you?” Muttered the valet almost involuntarily. - The first thing is that you shouldn’t be here, but sit in the reception, because you yourself are on the visitor’s line, otherwise the guest will be asked from me ... Are you going to live with us? - he added, once again squinting at the knot of the prince, obviously not giving him rest.
- No I do not think so. Even if I had been invited, I won’t stay that way. I just met just arrived, and nothing more.
- How? Become acquainted? - with surprise and tripled suspicion asked the valet. “How did you first say that in the case?”
- Oh, almost out of business! That is, if you want, and there is one thing, just ask for advice, but I, most importantly, to recommend myself, because I am Prince Myshkin, and General Yepanchina is also the last of the Princesses of the Myshkins, and, besides me, there are no more Myshkins .
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I heard nothing more, as I fell asleep. The next morning, when we approached Sevastopol, there was unpleasant damp weather. Swayed. Shamokhin sat with me in the wheelhouse, thought about something and was silent. Men with raised collars and ladies with pale, sleepy faces, when they called for tea, began to go down. One lady, young and very beautiful, the one who was angry at customs officials in Volochisk, stopped in front of Shamokhin and told him with an expression of a capricious, spoiled child:
- Jean, your little bird is sick of!
Then, while living in Yalta, I saw how this beautiful lady was racing on a pacer, and some two officers barely kept up with her, and how one morning, in a Phrygian cap and apron, she painted paints in a sketch sitting on the embankment, and a large crowd stood at a distance and admired it. I met her too. She shook my hand tightly and, looking at me with admiration, thanked her with a sweet-singing voice for the pleasure that I give her with my compositions.
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She needs to rest, ”said Prince Andrei, grimacing. - Is not it, Lisa? Bring her to me, and I'll go to the priest. What is he all the same?
- The same, the same; I don’t know how your eyes are, ”answered the princess joyfully.
- And the same hours and walks along the alleys? Machine? - Asked Prince Andrew with a slightly noticeable smile, showing that, despite all his love and respect for his father, he understood his weaknesses.
“The same watch and machine, also mathematics and my geometry lessons,” Princess Mary answered joyfully, as if her lessons in geometry were one of the most joyful impressions of her life.
When those twenty minutes that were needed for the term of rising of the old prince passed, Tikhon came to call the young prince to his father. The old man made an exception in his lifestyle in honor of the arrival of his son: he ordered him to be allowed into his half while dressing before dinner. The prince walked in the old fashion, in a caftan and powder. And while Prince Andrey (not with that grim expression and manners that he pretended to be in the living rooms, but with that lively face that he had when he talked with Pierre) went to his father, the old man was sitting in the restroom on a wide, morocco upholstered armchair, in a powder, giving his head to Tikhon's hands.
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So are you also a relative? - startled the almost completely frightened footman.
“And it's almost none.” However, if you pull, of course, relatives, but so far distant that, in fact, you can’t even be considered. Once I turned to the general from abroad with a letter, but she did not answer me. I nevertheless considered it necessary to establish relations upon return. Now I’m explaining all this to you so that you don’t doubt, because I see that you are still worried: report that Prince Myshkin, and in the report itself the reason for my visit will be visible. They will accept - well, they will not accept - also, perhaps, very well. They just can't seem to refuse to accept: the general, of course, wants to see the eldest and only representative of her kind, and she really appreciates her breed, as I heard about her exactly.
It would seem that the conversation of the prince was the simplest; but the simpler it was, the more ridiculous it became in the present case, and the experienced valet could not help but feel something that was completely decent for a person with a person and completely indecent for a guest with a person. And since people are much smarter than their gentlemen usually think about them, it came to the valet’s head that there were two things: either the prince, some kind of fool and certainly came to poverty to ask, or the prince simply doesn’t have a fool and ambition because the clever prince would not have sat in the front room and talked about his own affairs with a footman, and therefore would not have had to answer for him in either case?
“Nevertheless, you are welcome to the waiting room,” he remarked as insistently as possible.
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The old man was in a good mood after an afternoon nap. (He said that after dinner it was a silver dream, and before dinner it was a golden dream.) He joyfully squinted at his son from beneath his thick overhanging eyebrows. Prince Andrei came up and kissed his father at the place indicated by him. He did not respond to his father’s favorite topic of conversation - making fun of the current military people, and especially Bonaparte.
“Yes, I’ve come to you, father, and with my pregnant wife,” said Prince Andrei, watching with lively and respectful eyes the movement of every feature of his father’s face. - How is your health?
- Unhealthy, brother, there are only fools and lecherous people, but you know me: busy from morning till night, restrained, well, well.
“Thank God,” said the son, smiling.
“God has nothing to do with it.” Well, tell me, ”he continued, returning to his beloved skate,“ how the Germans and Bonaparte have taught you how to fight in your new science, called a strategy. ”
Prince Andrew smiled.
“Let me come to my senses, father,” he said with a smile, showing that his father’s weaknesses did not prevent him from respecting and loving him. - After all, I have not yet accommodated myself.
“You're lying, you're lying,” the old man shouted, shaking the pigtail to try to see if it was tightly braided, and grabbing his son's hand. “The house is ready for your wife.” Princess Mary will bring her together and show her and talk from three boxes. This is their Indian business. I am glad of her. Sit, tell me. Michelson’s army, I understand, Tolstoy too ... a one-time landing ... What will the Southern Army do? Prussia, neutrality ... I know that. Austria what? He said, getting up from his chair and walking around the room with Tikhon, who was running and serving parts of his clothes. - Sweden what? How will Pomerania go?
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Uh, fullness! He interrupted. - Since a woman sees in me not a man who is not equal to herself, but a male and his whole life bothers only to like me, that is, to take possession of me, can there be any talk of full right? Oh, do not believe them, they are very, very cunning! We men are bothering about their freedom, but they do not want this freedom at all and only pretend they want. Terribly cunning, terribly cunning!
I was already bored of arguing and wanted to sleep. I turned to face the wall.
“Yes, sir,” I heard, falling asleep. - Yes, sir. And all the fault is our upbringing, my friend. In cities, all the upbringing and education of a woman in her main essence comes down to developing a human beast out of her, that is, to like her a male and to know how to defeat this male. Yes, - Shamokhin sighed. - It is necessary that the girls are brought up and studied with the boys, so that both are always together. It is necessary to educate a woman so that she can, like a man, be aware of her wrong, otherwise she, in her opinion, is always right. Inspire the girl from the swaddling clothes that the man, first of all, is not a gentleman or a groom, but her neighbor, who is equal to her in everything. Teach her to think logically, to generalize and do not assure her that her brain weighs less than the male and that therefore she may be indifferent to the sciences, the arts, and generally cultural tasks. The apprentice boy, a shoemaker or painter, also has a smaller brain than an adult man, but he also participates in the general struggle for existence, works, and suffers. It is also necessary to quit this manner of referring to physiology, pregnancy and childbirth, since, firstly, a woman will not give birth every month; secondly, not all women will give birth and, thirdly, a normal village woman works in the field on the eve of childbirth - and nothing is done with her. Then there should be complete equality in everyday life. If a man gives a lady a chair or raises a dropped handkerchief, then let her pay him the same. I will have nothing against if a girl from a good family helps me put on a coat or give me a glass of water ...
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Prince Andrew, seeing the urgency of his father’s demands, at first reluctantly, but then more and more animated and involuntarily in the middle of the story, out of habit, having switched from Russian to French, he began to set out the operational plan for the proposed campaign. He told how the ninety-thousandth army had to threaten Prussia in order to remove it from neutrality and draw it into the war, how some of these troops had to unite with the Swedish troops in Stralsund, like two hundred twenty thousand Austrians, in conjunction with one hundred thousand Russians, had to act in Italy and on the Rhine, and how fifty thousand Russians and fifty thousand British landed in Naples, and how, as a result, the five hundred thousand army had to attack the French from different sides. The old prince did not show the slightest interest in the story, as if he had not listened, and, while continuing to dress, he interrupted him three times unexpectedly. Once he stopped him and cried out:
- White! white!
This meant that Tikhon did not give him the vest he wanted. Another time he stopped, asked:
- And soon she will give birth? - and, with a reproach, shaking his head, he said: - Not good! Go on, go on.
The third time, when Prince Andrey was finishing the description, the old man sang in a fake and senile voice: “Malbrough s'en va-t-en guerre. Dieu sait quand reviendra "11.
The son just smiled.
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Why, I would sit there, so I wouldn’t explain everything to you, ”the prince laughed merrily,“ and, therefore, you would still be worried when you looked at my cloak and bundle. ” And now, maybe you have nothing to wait for the secretary, but you should go and report yourself.
- I can’t report a visitor like you without a secretary, and besides, I myself, especially recently, ordered them not to be disturbed for anyone while the colonel was there, and Gavrila Ardalionych was coming without a report.
- An official?
- Gavrila Ardalionych? Not. He serves in the Company on his own. Set the knot at least over here.
- I already thought about it; if you will allow. And, you know, I’ll take off my coat too?
“Of course, it’s not in the cloak to enter him.”
The prince got up, hastily took off his coat and remained in a pretty decent and deftly stitched, albeit worn, jacket. A steel chain walked along the vest. The Geneva silver watch was on the chain.
Although the prince was a fool, - the footman had already decided, - but still the general valet seemed indecent at all to continue a longer conversation from himself with the visitor, despite the fact that he somehow liked the prince, of a kind, of course. But, from another point of view, he aroused in him resolute and gross indignation.
- And when does the general take? The prince asked, sitting down again in his former place.
“That's none of my business, sir.” Accepted pink, judging by the face. The modiste will admit at eleven. Gavril Ardalionych is also allowed earlier than others, even admitted to an early breakfast.
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Here in your rooms it’s warmer than abroad in winter, the prince remarked, but here it’s warmer than ours in the streets, and in the houses in winter it’s impossible for a Russian person to live out of habit.
- Do not drown?
- Yes, and the houses are arranged differently, that is, stoves and windows.
- Um! How long have you deigned to ride?
- Yes, four years. However, I was all sitting on one almost place, in the village.
- Weaned from ours?
- And it is true. Believe me, I wonder at myself; I have not forgotten how to speak Russian. I’m talking to you now, but I’m thinking to myself: “But I speak well.” Maybe that's why I say so much. Really, since yesterday I want to speak everything in Russian.
- Um! Heh! Did you live in Petersburg before? (No matter how the footman was fastening, it was impossible not to maintain such a courteous and polite conversation).
- In Petersburg? Almost none at all, only passing through. And before, I didn’t know anything here, but now there’s so much, you hear, new that, they say, who knew something, it’s so often re-learned. There is much talk about the courts here.
- Um! .. Courts. Courts it is true that the courts. And what, as there, is fairer in court or not?
- I do not know. I heard a lot of good things about ours. Here, again, we do not have the death penalty.
- Are they executed there?
- Yes. I saw in France, in Lyon. Schneider took me with him.
- Hang?
- No, in France all heads are chopped.
- Well, screaming?
- Where! In an instant. They put a man, and a sort of wide knife falls, it’s hard and strong in a car, it’s called a guillotine ... The head will bounce so that you don't even have time to blink an eye. The preparations are heavy. That's when they pronounce the verdict, equip, knit, cock on the scaffold, here it is awful! People are running away, even women, even though they don’t like women to look.
“Not their business.”
- Of course! Of course! A sort of flour! .. The criminal was a smart, fearless, strong man, in his years, Legro by name. Well, I’m telling you, believe it, do not believe it; I’ve come up to the scaffold - I cried, as white as paper. Is it possible? Isn't it horror? Well, who is crying with fear? I didn’t even think that from fear it would be possible to cry not for a child, a person who never cried, a person in his forty-five years old. What is being done to the soul at this moment, to what convulsions it is brought? Abuse of the soul, nothing more! It is said: “Do not kill”, so for the fact that he killed, and kill him? No, it is impossible. So I already saw it a month ago, and still I have it right before my eyes. I dreamed about five times.
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Do not believe, - Shamokhin whispered to me, - she didn’t read anything of yours.
One evening, when I was walking along the promenade, I met Shamokhin; in his hands were large bundles of snacks and fruit.
“Prince Maktuev is here!” He said joyfully. - Yesterday I arrived with her brother-spirit. Now I understand what she then corresponded with him! Lord, ”he continued, looking at the sky and clutching the bundles to his chest,“ if she’s getting along with the prince, then this means freedom, then I can go to the village, to my father! ”
And he ran on.
- I'm starting to believe in spirits! He shouted to me, looking around. “The spirit of Grandfather Hilarion seems to have prophesied the truth!” Oh, if only!
The day after this meeting, I left Yalta, and I don’t know how Shamokhin’s novel ended.
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To the hut of Maxim Zhurkin, rustling and rustling on the dried, dusty grass, a carriage pulled by a pair of pretty Vyatka horses rolled up. The lady Elena Egorovna Strelkova and her manager Felix Adamovich Rzhevetsky sat in a carriage. The manager deftly jumped out of the stroller, went to the hut and tapped the glass with his index finger. A light flashed in the hut.
- Who's there? Asked the old woman's voice, and the head of Maxim's wife appeared in the window.
- Go out, grandmother, to the street! - the lady shouted.
A minute later, Maxim and his wife came out of the hut. They stopped at the gate and silently bowed to the lady, and then to the steward.
“Tell me,” Elena Yegorovna turned to the old man, “what does all this mean?”
- What is it, sir?
- Like what? Don't you know? Is Stepan home?
“Not at all.” He left for the mill.
- What is he building out of himself? I strongly do not understand this man! Why did he leave me?
“We don't know, lady.” Nothing do we know?
“It is awfully ugly of him!” He left me without a coachman! By his grace, Felix Adamovich himself had to harness the horses and rule. Terribly stupid! You understand that this is finally stupid! Salary seemed to him a little, or what?
- And Christ knows him! - answered the old man, squinting at the manager, who looked out the windows. “He doesn’t tell us, but you won’t get into his head.” He’s gone, he says, and the Sabbath! Own will! Probably, the salary seemed a little!
- And who is lying under the images on the bench? Asked Felix Adamovich, looking out the window.
- Semyon, father! But there is no Stepan.
- Cheeky of him! - continued the lady, lighting a cigarette. - Monsieur Rzhevetsky, how much did he receive our salary?
- Ten rubles a month.
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The prince even animated himself by saying, a light paint appeared in his pale face, although his speech was still quiet. The valet watched him with sympathetic interest, so it seemed he didn’t want to tear himself away; maybe there was also a man with imagination and an attempt at thought.
“It’s good that there is little flour,” he remarked, “when the head flies off.”
“Do you know what?” - the prince snapped hotly. “Well, you noticed this, and they all notice exactly the same as you, and the machine was invented for that, the guillotine.” And then one thought occurred to me: what if this is even worse? This is funny to you, it seems wild to you, and with some imagination even such an idea will jump into your head. Think: if, for example, torture; at the same time suffering and wounds, bodily torment, and, therefore, all this distracts from mental suffering, so that wounds alone are tormented until you die. But the main, most severe pain, maybe not in the wounds, but what you probably know is that after an hour, then after ten minutes, then after half a minute, then now, now, now - the soul will fly out of the body, and that man already you won’t be anymore, and that’s probably it; the main thing is that probably. This is how you put your head under the knife itself and hear how it slips over your head, these quarter of a second are the worst. Do you know that this is not my fantasy, but what so many have said? I believe so far that I’ll tell you my opinion directly. Killing for murder is a disproportionately greater punishment than the crime itself. Murder by sentence is disproportionately worse than murder by a robber. The one who is killed by the bandits is slaughtered at night, in the forest, or somehow, by all means still hoping that he will be saved, until the very last moment. There were examples that the throat was cut, and he still hopes, or runs, or asks. And here all this last hope, with which it is ten times easier to die, is probably taken away; here is the verdict, and that you probably won’t escape, all the terrible flour sits, and there is no stronger flour in the world. Bring and put the soldier against the gun itself in the battle and shoot him, he will still hope everything, but read the sentence to this soldier himself, probably, and he will lose his mind or cry. Who said that human nature is able to endure it without madness? Why such a curse, ugly, unnecessary, in vain? Maybe there is such a person to whom the sentence was read, given to torment, and then said: "Go, they forgive you." Here is a sort of person, maybe he could tell. Christ spoke of this torment and horror. No, you can’t do this to a person!
The valet, although he could not have expressed it all like a prince, but, of course, although not everything, but most importantly he understood that it was evident even from his tender face.
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f it seemed to him a little ten, then I could give fifteen! He did not say a word and left! Is it honest? In good faith?
- After all, I said that you should never stand on ceremony with these people! - spoke Rzhevetsky, engraving each syllable and trying not to stress the penultimate syllable. “You spoiled these parasites!” You should never give an entire salary at a time! What is it for? And why do you want to add a salary? And so it will come! He agreed, hired! Tell him, ”said the Pole to Maxim,“ that he is a pig and nothing more. ”
- Finissez donc! one
- Do you hear, man? Engaged - and serve, and do not leave when you want, damn! Let it not come tomorrow! I will show him not to obey! And you will get it! Do you hear, old woman?
- Finissez, Rzhevetsky!
- Everyone will get it! Do not come to my office then, old dog! Ceremonial with you ?! Are you people? Do you understand good words? You only then understand if you are beaten on the neck and made you in trouble
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If it’s so desirable for you, ”he said,“ to smoke, then it is probably possible if only as soon as possible. ” Therefore, he suddenly asks, but you are not. Here, under the ladder, see, the door. Enter the door, to the right of the closet: there you can, only dissolve the window, because it is not order ...
But the prince did not have time to go smoke. Suddenly a young man came in with a paper in his hands. The valet began to take off his fur coat. The young man squinted at the prince.
“This, Gavrila Ardalionych,” the valet began privately and almost familiarly, “is reported that Prince Myshkin and the mistress are a relative, arrived with a train from abroad, and the bundle in his hand, only ...
The prince did not hear further, because the valet began to whisper. Gavrila Ardalionovich listened attentively and looked at the prince with great curiosity, finally stopped listening and impatiently approached him.
“Are you Prince Myshkin?” He asked extremely kindly and politely. He was a very handsome young man, also about twenty-eight years old, a slender blond, of medium-tall stature, with a small, Napoleonic beard, with a smart and very handsome face. Only his smile, for all its courtesy, was something too subtle; while the teeth were exposed at the same time something too pearl-even; his gaze, in spite of all its gaiety and the apparent simplicity of it, was something too intense and experienced.
“He must have, when alone, not at all looked like that and maybe never laughs,” the prince felt somehow.
The prince explained everything that he could, hastily, almost the same thing that he had previously explained to the valet and even earlier Rogozhin. Gavrila Ardalionovich, meanwhile, seemed to recall something.
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At the appointed hour, powdered and shaved, the prince went into the dining room, where his daughter-in-law, Princess Mary, m-lle Bourienne and the prince's architect, who, by a strange whim, was allowed to the table, were waiting for him, although by his position this insignificant person could not count on such honour. The prince, who was firmly stuck in the life of the difference in conditions and rarely allowed even important provincial officials to the table, suddenly on the architect Mikhail Ivanovich, blowing his nose in a checkered shawl in the corner, argued that all people were equal, and more than once inspired his daughter that Mikhail Ivanovich worse than you and me. At the table, the prince most often turned to the wordless Mikhail Ivanovich.
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I'll tell him. Why not say? You can say ...
“Tell him that I am adding him a salary,” said Elena Yegorovna. “I can't be without a coachman.” When I find another, then let him go, if he pleases. Tomorrow morning to be with me again! Tell him that I am deeply offended by his impolite act! And you, grandmother, tell me! I hope that he will be with me and will not force me to send for myself. Come here, grandmother! On you, honey! Is it hard to deal with such big children? Take it, honey!
The lady took out a pretty cigarette-case from her pocket, pulled a yellow piece of paper from under the cigarette and handed it to the old woman.
“If he doesn’t come,” the lady added, “we will have to quarrel, which would be extremely undesirable.” But I hope ... You will advise him. Come on, Felix Adamych! Farewell!
Rzhevetsky jumped into the carriage, picked up the reins, and the carriage rolled along the soft road.
- How much did you give? The old man asked.
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In the dining room, enormously high, like all the rooms in the house, the prince was waited by the house and the waiters who stood behind each chair; the butler, with a napkin in his hand, looked around the table, blinking to the lackeys and constantly ran a restless gaze from the wall clock to the door from which the prince was supposed to appear. Prince Andrei was looking at a huge, new for him, golden frame with the image of the family tree of the Princes Bolkonsky, hanging opposite the same huge frame with a badly made (apparently, by the hand of a home painter) image of the sovereign prince in the crown, which was supposed to come from Rurik and be the ancestor kind of Bolkonsky. Prince Andrey looked at this family tree, shaking his head, and chuckled with the look with which they looked at a portrait that was ridiculously funny.
“How do I recognize him all here!” He said to Princess Mary, who approached him.
Princess Mary looked at her brother in surprise. She did not understand why he was smiling.
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Rupe.
- Give it to me!
The old man took the ruble, stroked it with both palms, carefully folded it and put it in his pocket.
- Stepan, left! He said, entering the hut. “I told her that you went to the mill.” Passion was awakened like! ..
As soon as the carriage drove off and disappeared from view, Stepan appeared in the window. Pale as death, trembling, he crawled out half of the window and threatened with his big fist to the dark garden in the distance. The garden was lordly. Threatening about six times, he grumbled something, reached back into the hut and lowered the frame.
Half an hour after the lady left, they had dinner in the hut of Zhurkin. In the kitchen near the stove itself, Zhurkin and his wife were sitting at the greasy table. Opposite them sat Maxim's eldest son - Semyon, temporarily vacation, with a red drunken face, long pockmarked nose and oily eyes. Semyon looked like his father, he was not only gray-haired, bald and did not have such cunning, gypsy eyes, which his father possessed. Next to Semyon sat the second son of Maxim, Stepan. Stepan did not eat, but, propping his beautiful blond head with his fist, he looked at the smoked ceiling and thought hard about something. Dinner was served by Stepan's wife, Marya. Cabbage soup was eaten silently.
- Take it! - said Maxim, when cabbage soup was eaten. Mary took an empty cup from the table, but did not bring it safely to the stove, although she was close to the stove. She stumbled and fell onto the bench. The cup fell out of her hands and crawled from her knees to the floor. There were sobs.
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Aren't you, ”he asked,“ deigned to send a letter a year ago or even closer, it seems from Switzerland, to Elizabeth Prokofievna? ”
- Exactly.
- So they know you here and probably remember. Are you to His Excellency? Now I will report ... He will be free now. Only you would ... you are welcome to the reception room ... Why are they here? - He turned sternly to the valet.
- I say they themselves did not want to ...
At this time, the door from the office suddenly opened and some military man, with a briefcase in his hand, loudly speaking and taking his leave, went out of there.
“Are you here, Ganya?” - shouted a voice from the office, - but perhaps here!
Gavrila Ardalionovich nodded to the prince and hastily walked into the office.
About two minutes later, the door opened again and the sonorous voice of Gavrila Ardalionovich was heard:
- Prince, please!
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Does anyone cry? Asked Maxim.
Mary sobbed louder. Two minutes passed. The old woman got up and herself served porridge on the table. Stepan grunted and stood up.
- Shut up! He muttered.
Mary continued to cry.
- Shut up, they tell you! - shouted Stepan.
- Death does not like the scream of a woman! - Semyon muttered boldly, scratching his stiff nape. “Roars itself does not know what roars!” It is said - a woman! I would roar to myself in the yard, if you wish!
- Indian tear - a drop of water! - said Maxim. - It’s good not to buy tears; Well, why roar? Eka! Stop doing that! They won’t take your Stepka from you! Spoiled! Tender! Go crack the porridge!
Stepan leaned over to Marya and slightly hit her on the elbow.
- What? Shut up! They say to you! Uh ... bastard!
Stepan swung and punched the bench on which Mary lay. A large sparkling tear crawled across his cheek. He brushed away a tear from his face, sat down at the table and set about the mess. Mary rose and sobbed, sat behind the stove, away from people. Ate porridge.
- Marya, kvask! Know your job, young man! It's a shame to dissolve snot! The old man shouted. - Not little!
Mary with a pale, tear-stained face came out and, without looking at anyone, gave the old man a bucket. The bucket went by hand. Semyon picked up the bucket, crossed himself, sipped and choked.
- What are you laughing at?
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The general, Ivan Fedorovich Yepanchin, stood in the middle of his office and looked with extraordinary curiosity at the incoming prince, even took two steps to him. The prince approached and recommended himself.
“Well, sir,” the general answered, “what can I serve?”
- I have no immediate business; my goal was just to get to know you. I would not want to bother, since I do not know either your day or your orders ... But I just got out of the car ... came from Switzerland ...
The general grinned a little, but thought and paused; then he thought again, squinted, looked his guest again from head to toe, then quickly pointed a chair to him, he sat down somewhat obliquely and turned impatiently towards the prince. Ganya was standing in the corner of his office, by the bureau, and was sorting through papers.
“In general, I have little time for dating,” the general said, “but since you, of course, have your own goal, then ...
“I foresaw,” the prince interrupted, “that you will certainly see some special purpose in my visit.” But, by golly, besides the pleasure of meeting you, I have no particular goal.
“The pleasure, of course, is extraordinary for me, but not all the fun, sometimes, you know, things happen ... Besides, I still can’t make out anyway between us ... the reasons, so to speak ...
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There is no reason, no doubt, and in common, of course, is not enough. Because if I am Prince Myshkin and your spouse is from our family, then this, of course, is not the reason. I really understand that. But, however, my whole reason for this is all. I have not been to Russia for four years, with too much; Yes, and that I left: almost out of my mind! And then he didn’t know anything, and now even more. I need good people; even here I have one thing and I don’t know where to poke around. Even in Berlin he thought: “These are almost relatives, I will start with them; maybe we will be useful to each other, they are for me, I am for them, if they are good people. ” And I heard that you are good people.
“Very grateful, sir,” the general was surprised, “let me know where you left off?”
“I haven't stopped anywhere else.”
“So, right from the carriage to me?” And ... with luggage?
- Yes, with me, only one small bundle of linen, and nothing more; I usually carry it in my hand. I’ll have time to take a room in the evening.
“So you still intend to take the number?”
- Oh yes of course.
- Judging by your words, I thought that you were so direct to me.
“It could have been, but only at your invitation.” I, I confess, would not have remained by invitation, not for some reason, but ... by nature.
- Well, therefore, and by the way, that I did not invite you and do not invite you. Allow me, prince, to clarify everything all at once: since we have now agreed that there cannot be a word about kinship between us - although I would, of course, be very flattering, - so ...
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So, get up and leave? - the prince rose, somehow even laughing gaily, despite all the apparent difficulty of his circumstances. - And, by golly, general, even though I know absolutely nothing either in the local customs or in general how people live here, but I thought that this would certainly happen with us, as it turned out now. Well, maybe that’s the way it is ... Yes, and then they didn’t answer me either ... Well, goodbye and I'm sorry that I bothered.
The prince’s gaze was so affectionate at that moment, and his smile was so without any tinge of at least some unpleasant hostile sensation that the general suddenly stopped and somehow suddenly looked at his guest in a different way; the whole change of gaze took place in an instant.
“You know, prince,” he said in a completely different voice, “because I still don’t know you, and Elizaveta Prokofievna might want to look at the namesake ... Wait if you have time.”
- Oh, I have time; I have absolutely my time (and the prince immediately put his soft, round-hollow hat on the table). I confess that I was hoping that maybe Elizabeth Prokofievna would remember what I wrote to her. Your servant, when I was waiting for you there, suspected that I had come to ask you for poverty; I noticed this, and you must have strict instructions in this regard; but I, really, are not behind this, but, right, just to get together with people. I just think a little that I disturbed you, and it bothers me.
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Everything done by her father aroused in her reverence, which was not subject to discussion.
“Each one has his own Achilles heel,” continued Prince Andrei. - With his huge mind, donner dans ce ridicule! one
Princess Marya could not understand the boldness of her brother’s judgments and was preparing to object to him as the expected steps were heard from the office: the prince came in quickly, cheerfully, as he always walked, as if deliberately in his hasty manners, representing the opposite of the strict order of the house. At the same instant, the big clock struck two, and others spoke in a thin voice in the living room. The prince stopped; from under the hanging thick eyebrows, brisk, stern, stern eyes looked at everyone and settled on the young princess. The young princess experienced at that time the feeling that the courtiers had at the tsar’s exit, the feeling of fear and reverence that this old man aroused in all his associates. He stroked the princess on the head and then, with an awkward movement, patted her on the back of her head.
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Nothing ... This is me. Funny remembered.
Semyon threw back his head, opened his big mouth and giggled.
“Did the lady come?” He asked, squinting at Stepan. - BUT? What did she say? but? Haha
Stepan looked at Semyon and blushed deeply.
“Fifteen rubles,” said the old man.
- Oh, you! And a hundred will, if only I wanted to! God beat, give!
Semyon blinked an eye and stretched.
- Oh, if only such a woman! He continued. - I would suck a damn thing! Juice squeezed! Vvv ...
Semyon cringed, hit Stepan on the shoulder and laughed.
- That's it, soul! It hurts you are comfortable! Our brother is not embarrassed! You are a fool, Stepka! Wow, what a fool!
- Vestimo is a fool! - said the father.
Sobs were heard again.
- Again, your woman roars! Afraid of knowing, jealous, ticklish! I do not like the womanish squeal. How to cut with a knife! Oh, women, women! And on what subject did God create you? For what reason? Mercy for dinner, dear sirs! Now I would like to drink wine, so that beautiful dreams could be dreamed! Your mistress must assume that the guilt is dark and dark! Drink - I do not want!
“You are insensitive cattle, Senka!”
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This is what, prince, ”said the general with a cheerful smile,“ if you really are the way you seem, then it will probably be nice to meet you; you see, I’m a busy man, and now again I’ll sit down to watch and sign something, and then go to his excellency, and then to the service, it turns out that I’m glad, though ... good people, that is .. ... but ... However, I am so convinced that you are well brought up that ... And how old are you, prince?
- Twenty six.
- Wow! And I thought, much less.
- Yes, they say, my face is youthful. And I’ll learn how not to bother you and will soon understand, because I really don’t like to bother you ... And, finally, it seems to me that we are such rosy people in appearance ... for many reasons that, perhaps, we cannot have there are a lot of common points, but, you know, I don’t believe in this last idea myself, because very often it just seems like there are no common points, but they really are ... it is from human laziness that people sort of and they can’t find anything ... But by the way, maybe I started bored? You as if ...
- Two words, sir: do you have at least some condition? Or maybe you intend to take any classes? Sorry I'm so ...
- Excuse me, I really appreciate your question and understand. For the time being, I do not have any state and no occupations, for the time being, too, but I have to, sir. And now I had strangers' money, it was given to me by Schneider, my professor, from whom I was treated and studied in Switzerland, on the road, and gave it right up to now, so now, for example, I have only a few cents left for all the money. True, I have one thing, and I need advice, but ...
- Tell me, what do you intend to live in the meantime and what were your intentions? - interrupted the general.
- I wanted to work somehow.
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Oh, you are a philosopher; but by the way ... do you know the talents, abilities, at least some, that is, of those that give daily bread? Sorry again ...
- Oh, don't apologize. No, sir, I think I have neither talents nor special abilities; on the contrary, because I am a sick person and did not study correctly. As for bread, it seems to me ...
The general interrupted again and again began to question. The prince again told everything that has already been told. It turned out that the general had heard of the late Pavlishchev and even knew personally. Why the Pavlishchev was interested in his upbringing, the prince himself could not explain, however, perhaps, simply, by his old friendship with his late father. After the parents, the prince remained a small child, he lived and grew up in villages throughout his life, since his health required rural air. Pavlishchev entrusted him to some old landowners, his relatives; for him, the governess was hired first, then the tutor; he announced, however, that although he remembers everything, he can little satisfactorily explain, because in many respects he was not aware. The frequent seizures of his illness made him almost an idiot (the prince said "idiot"). He finally said that Pavlishchev met once in Berlin with Professor Schneider, a Swiss who deals specifically with these diseases, has an institution in Switzerland, in the Welsh canton, treats with his method cold water, gymnastics, and treats both idiocy and madness, while he teaches and undertakes spiritual development in general; that Pavlishchev sent him to him in Switzerland about five years ago, and he died two years ago, suddenly, without making orders; that Schneider held and treated him for another two years; that he didn’t cure him, but helped a lot, and that, finally, at his own request and due to one circumstance he met, he sent him now to Russia.
The general was very surprised.
- And you have nobody in Russia, absolutely nobody? - he asked.
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Having said this, Stepan sighed, took half an armful and went out of the hut into the yard. Semen followed after him.
In the courtyard, a quiet, serene summer Russian night fell. Because of the distant mounds the moon rose. Disheveled clouds with silvery edges floated towards her. The sky turned pale, and pale, pleasant greens spilled over its expanse. Weaker stars flickered and, as if frightened of the moon, drew their little rays into themselves. From the river in all directions pulled night, cheeks caressing moisture. In the hut of Father Gregory the whole village rattled for nine hours. The waiter-cab locked the windows with noise and hung a greasy flashlight above the door. On the street and in the courtyards there was neither a soul, nor a sound ... Stepan spread out half of the grass on the grass, crossed himself and lay down with his elbow under his head. Semyon grunted and sat at his feet.
“Hmmm ...” he said.
After a pause, Semyon sat comfortably, lit a small pipe and spoke:
- I visited Trofim today ... I drank beer. I drank three bottles. Want to smoke, Styopa?
“I do not wish.
- Tobacco is good. I would like to drink tea now! Did you drink tea at the lady? Good? Must be very good? Five rubles a pound should be. And there is such tea that it costs one hundred rubles per pound. By God, there is. Though I didn’t drink, I know. When in the city I served as clerks, I saw ... One lady drank. One smell is worth it! Sniffed. Let's go to the lady tomorrow?
- Leave me alone!
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Now nobody, but I hope ... moreover, I received a letter ...
“At least,” the general interrupted, not hearing about the letter, “did you study something, and your illness will not prevent you from taking any, for example, uncomplicated, place in any service?”
“Oh, it probably won't hurt.” And as for the place, I would really wish, because I myself want to see what I am capable of. I studied all four years constantly, although not quite correctly, and so, according to his special system, and at the same time I managed to read a lot of Russian books.
- Russian books? Therefore, you know the letter and can write without errors?
- Oh, I really can.
- Great, sir; and handwriting?
“And the handwriting is excellent.” This, perhaps, is my talent; in this I am just a calligrapher. Give me, I'll write you something for trial now, ”the prince said with fervor.
- Do a favor. And it’s even necessary ... And I love this your readiness, prince, you are very, really, nice.
“You have such glorious writing instruments, and how many pencils, how many pens, how thick, glorious paper ... And what a glorious office you have!” This is the landscape I know; This is a Swiss view. I’m sure that the painter wrote from nature, and I’m sure that I saw this place: this is in the canton of Uri ...
“It may very well be, although it was bought here.” Ganya, give the prince paper; here are feathers and paper; here, come to this table. What is it? - the general turned to Ghana, who meanwhile removed from his portfolio and handed him a large-format photographic portrait, “bah! Nastasya Filippovna! Did she herself, she sent you herself? - he asked Ganya lively and with great curiosity.
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“I'm glad, I'm glad,” he said, and still gazing into her eyes, he quickly walked away and sat down in his place. - Sit down, sit down! Mikhail Ivanovich, sit down.
He indicated to his daughter-in-law a place near him. The waiter pushed a chair for her.
- Go, go! The old man said, looking around her rounded waist. - Hurried, not good!
He laughed dryly, coldly, unpleasantly, as he always laughed - with one mouth and not his eyes.
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Why are you angry? I do not swear, I speak only. Angry is not a trace. But why don't you go, eccentric? I do not understand! And there is a lot of money, and the food is good, and drink as much as the soul wants ... You will smoke cigarettes, you will drink good tea ...
Semyon was silent for a while and continued:
- And she is beautiful. It’s a disaster to get in touch with the old woman, and happiness is with this one! (Semyon spat and paused.) Fire woman! Fiery fire! Her neck is glorious, so chubby ...
- And if the soul is a sin? Asked Stepan suddenly, turning to Semyon.
- Gre-eh? Otkudova sin? It’s not a sin for a poor person.
- To hell to hell and the poor will go if ... But why am I poor? I am not poor.
- What sin is it? After all, not you to her, but she to you! You scarecrow!
- The robber, and the robber reasoning ...
- You stupid man! - said, sighing, Semyon. - Stupid! You do not understand your happiness! Do not feel! You must have a lot of money ... You don’t need to know, you need money.
- We need, but not strangers.
“You will not steal, and she herself will give you her own pen.” What is the matter with you, fool, to interpret! How about a wall of peas ... Mantifolia on vinegar to breed with you only.
Semyon got up and stretched.
- You will repent, but it will be too late! I’m after this and I don’t want to know. You are not my brother to me. Damn you ... Fuck with your stupid cow ...
- Marya is a cow?
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Now, when I was congratulating, I gave. I have already asked for a long time. I don’t know if it’s a hint on her part that I myself arrived empty-handed, without a present, on such a day, ”added Ganya, smiling unpleasantly.
“Well, no,” the general interrupted with conviction, “and what, really, is your mindset!” She will begin to hint ... and not at all interesting. And besides, what will you give: after all, here you need thousands! Is it a portrait? And what, by the way, did she not ask you for a portrait yet?
- No, I haven’t asked yet; Yes, maybe he’ll never ask. Do you, Ivan Fedorovich, remember, of course, about tonight? You are from deliberately invited.
- I remember, I remember, of course, and I will. Well, birthday, twenty-five years! Um ... And you know, Ganya, I already, so be it, I’ll open it for you, get ready. She promised Afanasy Ivanovich and me that tonight she would say the last word: to be or not to be! So look, know.
Ganya was suddenly embarrassed, to the point that he even turned a little pale.
“She probably said that?” He asked, and his voice seemed to tremble.
- On the third day I gave my word. We both molested that we forced. I just asked you not to give it up to the time.
The general was staring at Ganya; he apparently did not like Ghani's embarrassment.
“Remember, Ivan Fedorovich,” Ganya said anxiously and hesitating, “that she gave me complete freedom of decision until she decides the case, and then my word is still mine ...”
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Marya.
- Um ... You're not suitable for this very cow. Go ahead
“And you would be well, and ... we are well.” Fool !!
- Go!
- And I'll leave ... There is nobody to beat you!
Semyon turned and whistled, trudged to the hut. Five minutes later, grass rustled near Stepan. Stepan raised his head. Marya went to him. Mary came up, stood and lay down next to Stepan.
- Don’t go, Styopa! She whispered. - Do not go, my dear! Will ruin you! Little to her, a cursed Pole, you still needed. Do not go to her, Stepunk!
- Do not go!
Maryina's tears dripped onto Stepan's face in a small, hot rain.
- Do not kill me, Stepan! Do not take sin upon your soul. Love me alone, do not go to others! God married me, live with me. I’m an orphan ... I’m the only one you have.
- Leave me alone! Ah ... pissing! He said - I won’t go!
- That's it ... And don’t go, dear! I am a burden, Stepushka ... The children will be soon ... Don’t leave us, God will punish! Father and Semka strive so that you go to her, but you don’t go ... Do not look at them. Beasts, not people.
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So are you ... so are you ... - suddenly the general was afraid.
- I'm nothing.
“Have mercy, what do you want to do with us?”
“I do not refuse.” Maybe I didn’t put it that way ...
- Still you would refuse! Said the general in annoyance, not even wanting to restrain the annoyance. - Here, brother, the point is not that you do not refuse, but the matter is your readiness, pleasure, joy, with which you will accept her words ... What is being done at your place?
- What's at home? Everything at home is in my will, only my father, as usual, is fooling around, but after all this is a perfect outrage; I don’t even speak with him, but, however, I’m holding it in a vise, and, right, if it weren’t for my mother, I would have indicated the door. Mother, of course, is crying; my sister is angry, and I finally told them directly that I’m the master of my fate and in the house I want to ... obey. Sister at least struck it all out with her mother.
“And I, brother, continue not to comprehend,” the general remarked thoughtfully, with a few shoulders thrown up and hands a little apart. “Nina Alexandrovna, too, the other day, when you came, remember?” groans and groans; “What are you?” I ask. It turns out that they seem to be dishonorable here. What dishonesty, let me ask? Who can reproach Nastasya Filippovna or point out anything about her? Is it really that she was with Totsky? But this is already such nonsense, especially under certain circumstances! "You, says, do not let her to your daughters?" Well! Avona! Ah yes Nina Alexandrovna! That is, how not to understand this, how not to understand this ...
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Go to sleep!
- I’m sleeping, Styopa ... I’m sleeping.
- Marya! - heard the voice of Maxim. - Where are you? Come on, mother is calling!
Mary jumped up, straightened her hair and ran into the hut. Maxim slowly approached Stepan. He had already undressed and in his lower dress looked like a dead man. The moon played on his bald head and shone in his gypsy eyes.
- Are you going to the lady tomorrow al the day after tomorrow? He asked Stepan. Stepan did not answer.
- If you go, so go tomorrow, but early. I suppose the horses are not cleaned. Yes, do not forget that fifteen promised. Do not go for ten.
“I won’t go,” said Stepan.
- Why so?
- Yes ... I don’t want to ...
- From what?
“You know yourself.”
- So ... Look, Styopa, how would I not have to tear you to old age!
- Fight.
- Can you answer parents like that? To whom do you answer? Look you! The milk on the lips has not dried yet, but you say rudeness to your father.
- I won’t go, that’s all! Go to church, but don’t be afraid of sin.
- I want to separate you stupid! Hut a new nadot build al no? What do you think? Who will you go to the forest? Probably to Strelchik? Who to borrow money from? She or not her? She will give the forest, and give money. Will reward!
- Let others reward. I don’t need to.
- I'll rip it off!
- Well, fight! Fight
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Maxim smiled and extended his hand forward. There was a whip in his hand.
- I'll take it off, Stepan.
Stepan turned on the other side and pretended to be prevented from sleeping.
- So you will not go? Are you saying that right?
- Right. God beat my soul, if I go.
Maxim raised his hand, and Stepan felt severe pain on his shoulder and cheek. Stepan jumped up like a madman.
- Do not fight, five! He cried. - Do not fight! Do you hear Do not fight!
- And what?
Maxim thought and hit Stepan again. Hit the third time.
- Listen to your father, if he tells! You go scoundrel!
- Do not fight! Do you hear
Stepan roared and quickly sank half a half.
- I will go! Good! I'll go ... Just remember! Life will not be glad! Damn it!
- Okay. You’ll go for yourself, but not for me. I don’t need a new hut, but you. He said to rip off, well, tore off.
- By ... I'll go! Only ... only remember this whip!
- Okay. Spit it out. Talk to me again!
- Good ... I'll go ...
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Stepan stopped crying, turned on his stomach and cried quietly.
- He pulled his shoulders! Broke out! Revie more! You’ll go early tomorrow. Take it a month in advance. And for the four days that he served, take it. Your mare will fit on a scarf. And do not be angry with the whip. Father I ... I want - I beat, I want - sweetheart. That's it ... Sleep!
Maxim stroked his beard and turned to the hut. It seemed to Stepan that Maxim, having entered the hut, said: “Tore off!” Semen's laughter was heard.
In the hut of his father, Gregory pitifully played an upset piano: at nine o’clock, Popov usually studied music. Quiet, strange sounds ran through the village. Stepan got up, climbed over the fence and went along the street. He walked to the river. The river shone like mercury, and reflected in itself the sky with the moon and with the stars. Silence reigned around the grave. Nothing moved. Only occasionally a cricket cried out ... Stepan sat on the shore, above the water itself, and propped his head on his fist. Dark thoughts, replacing one another, fluttered in his head.
On the other side of the river stood tall, slender poplars surrounding the lord's garden. The light from the lordly window shone through the trees. The lady must not have slept. Stepan thought, sitting on the shore, until the swallows flew over the river. He rose when the moon was not already shining in the river, but the rising sun. Rising, he washed, prayed east, and quickly, with decisive step, strode along the coast to the ford. Having crossed a shallow ford, he headed for the lordly court ..
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Your position? - prompted Ganya to the embarrassed general. - She understand; you are not angry with her. However, I then soaped my head so that they would not meddle in other people's affairs. And yet, so far everything is the only thing in our house and holds that the last word has not yet been said, and the storm will strike. If the last word is said today, then everything will be said.
The prince heard all this conversation, sitting in the corner behind his calligraphic breakdown. He finished, went to the table and handed his piece of paper.
- So this is Nastasya Filippovna? He said, looking attentively and curiously at the portrait. - Amazingly good! He added at once with fervor. The portrait depicted a woman of truly extraordinary beauty. She was photographed in a black silk dress, an extremely simple and elegant style; hair, apparently dark brown, was cleaned simply, at home; eyes dark, deep, brooding forehead; a passionate and arrogant expression. She was a bit thin, perhaps a pale face ... Ganya and the general looked in amazement at the prince ...
- How, Nastasya Filippovna! Do you already know Nastasya Filippovna? The general asked.
- Yes; it’s only a day in Russia, and I already know such a beautiful woman, ”the prince answered and immediately told about his meeting with Rogozhin and conveyed his whole story.
- Here's more news! - Again the general was alarmed, having listened extremely carefully to the story, and looked inquiringly at Ganya.
“Probably only disgrace,” muttered Ganya, who was somewhat embarrassed, “the merchant's son walks: I already heard something about him.”
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Yes, and I, brother, heard, - the general intercepted. - Then, after the earrings, Nastasya Filippovna retold the whole joke. But the matter is now different. Here, maybe, a million are really sitting and ... passion, ugly passion, let’s put it, but it still smells of passion, but we all know what these gentlemen are capable of, hop in everything! .. Um! .. There wouldn’t be a joke some! - concluded the general thoughtfully.
“Are you afraid of a million?” - Ganya grinned.
“But you are not, of course?”
“As it seemed to you, prince,” Ganya suddenly turned to him, “what is it, some serious person or just that, an outrage?” Actually your opinion?
In Ghana, something special happened when he asked this question. A certain new and peculiar idea caught fire in his brain and impatiently flashed in his eyes. The general, who was sincerely and sincerely anxious, also glanced at the prince, but as if not expecting much from his answer.
“I don’t know how to tell you,” answered the prince, “only it seemed to me that there was a lot of passion in him, and even some kind of sick passion.” Yes, he himself is still quite as if sick. It may well be that from the very first days in St. Petersburg it will again fall off, especially if it wraps up.
- So? Do you think so? - the general clung to this idea.
- Yes, it seemed.
- And, however, this kind of jokes can occur not in a few days, but before the evening, today, maybe something will turn out, - grinned at General Ganya.
“Um! .. Of course ... Perhaps, and then the whole thing is how it flashes in her head,” said the general.
“But do you know what she is sometimes?”
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So what is it? - the general rushed up again, having reached an extreme breakdown. - Listen, Ganya, please, today you don’t contradict her a lot and try to be that way, you know, to be ... in a word, to your liking ... Um! .. Why are you twisting your mouth like that?