Chapter 15 three

At his place, I also met my other two old classmates.They were probably talking about something very important.None of them noticed my presence, and almost ignored it, which was even a little strange, since I hadn't seen them for many years.Apparently, they saw me as the most ordinary fly.Even at school, people didn't despise me like this, although everyone hated me back then.Of course I understand that they should not take me seriously now, because I have failed in my career, because I am too slovenly, dressed in sloppy clothes, etc., etc., in their eyes, I am simply incompetent And a living signboard of low status.But I still didn't expect them to despise me so much.Simonov was even surprised by my presence.All this embarrassed me; I sat down with some distress and began to listen to what they had to say.

These gentlemen are talking seriously, even enthusiastically, about the farewell dinner they want to have tomorrow, and they want to have a meal together to see off a fellow officer of theirs, Zverkov, who will go away to work in the provinces .Mr. Zverkov has also been my secondary school classmate.I've hated him a lot since senior year.In the lower grades, he was just a pretty and lively little boy that everyone liked.However, I hated him when I was in the lower grades, and I hated him because he was a beautiful and lively little boy.His studies have always been bad, and his grades got worse as he went on; but he graduated smoothly because he had a backer.In his last year at my school he got an inheritance of two hundred serfs, and because we were all almost poor, he even trembled in front of us.This is a very vulgar man, but he has a good heart, even when he is ostentatious because of his money.As for us, despite our outwardly honest and haughty appearance, we were impractical and full of empty words, and all but a few were flattering Zverkov, so he It is even more boastful and bragging.The reason why we please him is not because we want to get any benefits, but because he is blessed and blessed.And somehow we've been conditioned to think of Zverkov as a connoisseur, shrewd and personable.This last point annoys me especially.I hate the harsh, self-righteous voice he has when he speaks, I hate the way he adores his own witticisms, which are really stupid, though he's free to say them; A handsome but stupid face (though I'd gladly trade my clever face for him), and his uninhibited demeanor of an officer of the forties.I hate how he used to talk about how he was going to win women (he didn't dare to start fooling around with women before he got his officer's epaulettes, so he couldn't wait to be an officer), and how he was going duel with people.I remember that I, who was always taciturn, suddenly had a quarrel with Zverkov, because once in his spare time he was talking nonsense with his classmates, talking about his future love affair, talking about his excitement, like a puppy in the sun. He announced suddenly, like a joke, that he would not spare any country girl in his village, and said that it was called droit de seigneur, and that if the peasants dared to say no, he would whip them severely. , and double the rent to all these bearded bastards.We scumbags applauded him, and I yelled at him, not at all for feeling sorry for the girls and their fathers, but simply because someone applauded so much for such a worthless person.I won the scolding, but Zverkov, stupid as he was, cheerful and impudent, laughed it off, and even, to be honest, I didn't quite win him: he won the laugh.Later he beat me several times, but without any malice, he won casually, smiling and jokingly.I ignored him viciously and contemptuously.He approached me after graduation, and I didn't refuse very much, because it made me very proud, but we soon broke up naturally.Later I heard that he had become a lieutenant and was very proud in the army, and that he used to drink and have fun.Then came other rumors—that he had a successful official career.On the street, he no longer greets me. I suspect that he is afraid that he will lose his identity by greeting a small person like me.I saw him once in the theatre, sitting in a box on the third floor, with braids on his shoulders.He was bending over several daughters of an old general to show courteousness.In the past two or three years he had become slovenly, though he was still handsome and sweet as ever; he was somehow bloated and had begun to put on weight; and it was obvious that he would have a big belly and a fat head before he was thirty.My group of classmates wanted to give a farewell banquet to Zverkov who was finally leaving here.They have been with him for the past three years, although they themselves do not consider themselves equals to him, and I am sure of that.

One of Simonov's two guests was a German-Russian named Felfichkin—a small, sharp-nosed, monkey-cheeked moron who made fun of everyone, and had been my sworn enemy since the first grades— Shameless and bold, braggart, pompous, and very self-effacing, though, needless to say, he was a downright coward at heart.He was one of Zverkov's admirers, who fawned over him out of selfishness and often borrowed money from him.Another of Simonov's guests was Trudolyubov, an unremarkable young man, a soldier, tall, bossy, and rather honest, but he admired any success and talked only of promotions and promotions.He seemed to be somewhat distantly related to Zverkov, which (to say a stupid thing) gave him a certain status among us.He never took me seriously; he treated me well, though not very politely.

"All right, seven rubles each," said Trudolyubov, "for the three of us, twenty-one rubles in total—and we'll have a good meal. Of course Zverkov doesn't have to pay." "Since we asked him, of course," said Simonov. "Do you think," interposed Ferfitchkin haughtily and ardently, like a brazen servant boasting of the stars on the shoulders of his master, the General, "do you think that Zverko Will my husband just make us pay? He'll accept our invitation out of politeness, but he'll certainly pay for a half dozen out of his own pocket."

"Oh, how could the four of us drink a half-dozen," said Trudolyubov, only paying attention to the half-dozen. "Then it's settled like this. Three people, plus four people from Zverkov, twenty-one rubles, at the Hotel de Paris, at five o'clock tomorrow afternoon." Simonov finally concluded that he was elected as the steward. "Why twenty-one rubles?" I said a little excitedly, and seemed even annoyed. "If you include me, it's not twenty-one rubles, but twenty-eight rubles." I had thought that by including myself so suddenly and unexpectedly, and even doing it beautifully, they would all be overwhelmed at once, and would look at me with admiration and awe.

"Do you also want to participate?" Simonov said dissatisfiedly, his eyes were a little evasive, not daring to look at me.He knows me like the back of his hand. Because he knew me like the back of his hand, I was instantly pissed off. "Why, you? I seem to be a classmate too. To tell you the truth, I even feel very angry that you bypass me." I almost became excited again. "Where can I find you?" Interposed Ferfitchkin gruffly. "You have been at odds with Zverkov," Trudolyubov added, frowning.But I clung to it. "I don't think anyone is qualified to comment on this matter." I retorted in a trembling voice, as if God knows what happened. "Maybe it's because of past discord that I want to participate now."

"Hmph, who knows what you are going to do...you are so magnanimous..." Trudolyubov sneered. "That's fine with you," Simonov told me. "Tomorrow at five o'clock at the Hotel de Paris; make no mistake." "Money!" whispered Felfichkin, pointing at me, but he swallowed the words again, because even Simonov felt ashamed. "Come on," said Trudolyubov, standing up, "since he wants to participate, let him participate." "You know, we're getting together among friends." Felfichkin said angrily, and also picked up his hat. "This is not a formal party. Maybe we don't want you at all..."

They left; Ferfitchkin left without even saying hello, and Trudolyubov nodded reluctantly, but did not look at me.Simonov stayed with me looking at each other, looking annoyed and a little hesitant, and looked at me strangely.He didn't sit down, and he didn't ask me to sit down. "Well... yes... then tomorrow. Can you pay now? I just want to know what's in my heart." He muttered embarrassedly. I blushed all of a sudden, but at the same time I remembered that I owed Simonov fifteen rubles a long time ago, but I never forgot about it, and I never paid him back either. .

"You know, Simonov, I didn't know it when I came here... so I'm sorry I forgot..." "Okay, okay, it doesn't matter. You can pay it at dinner tomorrow... I just want to know... You, please..." He stopped talking and started pacing up and down the room even more annoyed.He started to hit the ground with his heels as he paced, so the footsteps were very loud. "Did I not waste your time?" I asked, after a silence of two or three minutes. "Oh no!" he woke up with a start. "That is, to tell the truth—yes. You see, I have to go somewhere... right here, not far away..." He said in an apologetic voice, Added a little embarrassingly.

"Oh, my God! Why are you so silent!" I exclaimed, grabbing my hat, but with an air of god-knowledge-acquired carelessness. "You know, it's not far... just two steps..." repeated Simonov, sending me into the antechamber with an air of babbling, which in fact did not suit him at all. "Then tomorrow at five o'clock sharp!" he called to me up the stairs: he was satisfied that I was gone.But I was mad. "What a trick, what a trick to get me involved in this matter!" I thought, gnashing my teeth as I walked through the street, "and to see off such a scumbag, such a pig, Zverkov! Of course, You shouldn't go; of course, you should scoff; what's the matter with me, am I bound? Tomorrow I'll write to Simonov..."

But the reason why I was so angry was because I knew very well that I was going; and I was going on purpose; It even makes sense for me not to go, because there is no way to go: no money.All I have is nine rubles.But tomorrow, seven rubles will have to be taken out of it to pay Apollo's salary for this month.Apollo is my servant, earns seven rubles a month, and takes care of himself. Judging from Apollo's temper, it is impossible not to pay.But about this bastard, about my scourge, I will talk about it later when I have a chance. Then again, I know that when it comes to Guiqi, I will never pay him, so I must go. That night, I was in a mess of dreams.It was no surprise: all night I had been thinking about those difficult years in my school life, feeling oppressed, but I couldn't get rid of it, lingering.I was forcibly sent to this school by some distant relatives of mine, on whom I depended for a living, and of whom I know nothing—I was alone at the time, and they counted me down Stupid, depressed all day long, silent, looking around strangely.My classmates greeted me with malicious and merciless jeers just because I wasn't like any of them.But I can't bear their jeers; I can't get on with them so cheaply as they get on with each other.Immediately I began to hate them, to avoid them, to shut myself up, to maintain a kind of incomparable aloofness that was both timid and seemed to have damaged my self-esteem.Their rudeness makes me angry.They mock shamelessly at my face, at my clumsy appearance; but what a fool they themselves are!In our school, people's facial expressions are somehow especially prone to goofy and out of shape.How many very beautiful children come to our school.But after a few years it was disgusting to see them like that.When I was sixteen I wondered morosely at them; then I was amazed at how obscene their thoughts were, how outrageous what they did, what games they played, and what they said.They don't understand even the most common and basic things, and they are not interested in so many things so meaningful and amazing.So I couldn't help thinking that they were inferior to me.It wasn't my damaged vanity that made me think this way, for God's sake please don't contradict me with cloying bureaucracy, saying "I'm only fantasizing, but they already knew what real life is up".They don't know anything, they don't know anything about real life, and I swear that's what annoys me the most about them.On the contrary, they treated the most obvious and glaring realities with absurd and stupid attitudes, and they were accustomed at that time to worship success only.Everything that is righteous but humiliated and destroyed is subject to their cruel and shameful ridicule.He regards the level of official rank as a sign of intelligence; he is already talking about gentleness and comfort at the age of sixteen.Of course, a lot of this is due to stupidity, to the bad examples that were so common in their childhood and adolescence.They are morally corrupt to an unnatural degree.Of course, this is also mostly superficial, mostly feigned cynicism; it goes without saying that even behind their moral corruption there is often a youth and a certain vitality in them, but even if there is business in them It is also not likable, because it appears as a kind of nonsense.I hate them, though maybe I'm worse than them.They responded to me in kind, making no secret of their distaste for me.But I no longer wished for their love; on the contrary, I often longed for their abuse.In order to protect myself from their ridicule, I began to study as well as I could on purpose, and to be among the first few, so that they would impress me.Besides, they all began to gradually understand that I was already reading books they couldn't understand, and I also understood things they had never heard of (things not included in our professional courses).They looked at it with amazement and sneer, but they were spiritually subdued, and the teachers noticed me for it.The jeers ceased, but the discord remained, a cold tension developing.Eventually I couldn't bear it myself: as I grew older, I gradually felt a need, a need for company, a need for friends.I have tried to get close to some people, but the closeness always seems unnatural, and then it just goes away.I once had a friend.But I am a tyrant at heart; I want unrestricted dominion over his soul; I want him to despise his surroundings; I want him to break with them proudly.I terrified him with my wild friendship.I made him tearful and convulsive; he was an innocent and submissive man; and when he was completely at my command, I hated him again and pushed him away—as if I needed him only for subdue him; only to make him obey me.But I cannot conquer them all; my friend is not like any of them, he is only the rarest exception.The first thing I did after high school was to leave the job I was assigned to, in order to cut all ties, to curse the past, to make it into nothing... God only knows why I'm going back and forth after that Find that Simonov! ... In the morning, I got up early and hurriedly, and jumped out of bed excitedly, as if all this was about to start to happen.But I believe that a fundamental turning point in my life is coming today.Maybe it's because I'm not used to it, but in my life, even at the beginning of any seemingly trivial thing, I always feel that some fundamental turning point in my life must be coming soon.However, I still went to work as usual, but sneaked home two hours early in order to prepare.I think the main reason is that I can't be the first to arrive, otherwise, they will think that I am very happy.But there are thousands of such major things, all of which excite and exhaust me.I cleaned my boots with my own hands; Apollo refused to clean his boots twice a day anyway, thinking that there was no such rule.When I was polishing my boots, I stole the brush in from the outhouse first, so that he would not see him and look down on me later.Then I went over my clothes carefully, and found that everything was old and worn out.I'm too slovenly.A uniform might be all right, but you can't wear a uniform to a dinner party.And mainly the trousers, which had a big yellow stain on the knee.I had a presentiment that this stain alone would lower my human dignity by nine-tenths.I also know it's silly to think that way. "But it's not about thinking now; it's about reality," I thought, very depressed.I also knew very well that at the time, I was ridiculously exaggerating these facts, but what could I do: I couldn't help myself, I was shaking and shaking.I desperately imagined that this "scumbag" Zverkov would greet me with arrogance and indifference; To please Zverkov, Erfichkin would have sniggered at me in the most vile and impudent way; and Simonov would have noticed all this with a clear conscience, and he would have contemptuously despised me. Low vanity and weakness of will, and above all—how small, how unrefined, how vulgar it all is.Of course, it's best not to go at all.But that's absolutely impossible: if something starts to attract me, I'll just jump right in.If I don't go, I will laugh at myself for the rest of my life: "What's wrong, I'm timid, I'm afraid of reality, I'm scared!" On the contrary, I really want to prove to these "trash" that I am not what I imagined That kind of coward.Not only that: in the worst of the fever of cowardice, I could not help fantasizing from time to time to be the champion, to win the battle, to attract them, to make them like me--even if "for the elegance of my thoughts and the undoubted wit "Woolen cloth.They will leave Zverkov alone, he will sit aside, silent and ashamed, and I will overwhelm Zverkov.Then, I might make up with him, drink and talk, you and I are equal, but the most irritating and hateful thing for me is that I knew then, and knew it clearly, in fact, I don’t need anything, In fact, I don't want to overwhelm them, conquer them, draw them to my side at all, and even if I have achieved my goal at all, I will be the first to think that the result is worthless.Oh, I've been praying to God: let this day go by!I walked to the window in unspeakable distress, opened the transom, and gazed at the dark sky with wet snow falling... At last my old clock hissed five times.I grabbed my top hat, tried not to look at Apollo (he had been expecting me to pay him since early in the morning, but was too proud to be the first to speak), slipped past him out the door, and sat down. In a fancy carriage (which I hired for half a ruble), I came to the Hotel de Paris in a stately manner.