Sweden what? How will Pomerania go?
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 ...
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.
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.
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.
- 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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
- 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.
Aren't you, ”he asked,“ deigned to send a letter a year ago or even closer, it seems from Switzerland, to Elizabeth Prokofievna? ”
- 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!
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?
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 ...
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 ...
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.
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.
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!”
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.
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.
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!
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.
“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.
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?
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 ...”
- Um ... You're not suitable for this very cow. Go ahead
“And you would be well, and ... we are well.” Fool !!
- 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.
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 ...
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!
- 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
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 ...