Chapter 4 third chapter

The doomsday noise in the corridor grew louder and woke Cincinnatus. Even though he had prepared himself for being woken up like this the day before yesterday, he still couldn't control his breathing and heartbeat.He folded his dressing gown against his chest, hiding from his heart—quiet, nothing (as grown-ups say to children in the face of unbelievable disaster)—and Cincinnatus covered him Heart, leaned up a little, and listened carefully.There were the shuffling sounds of many people, of various magnitudes and depths; one voice asked a question, and another nearer answered.Someone hastily roared in from afar and started skating across the stony ground like an ice skater.Amid the chaotic din, the warden uttered a few words in a bass voice, inaudible but certainly important.The most frightening thing was that all this uproar was cut through by the voice of a child—the warden had a little daughter.Cincinnatus made out his lawyer's whining tenor voice and Rodion's slurred voice... Another running man snarled a question and someone snarled an answer.Gasps, crackles, continuous crisp thuds, as if someone was probing under a bench with a stick. "Can't you still find it?" The warden asked in a clear voice.There were footsteps running past.There were footsteps running past again.Running over and running back.Cincinnatus could bear it no longer.He dropped his feet to the ground: after all, they hadn't let him meet Marthe yet... Should I start getting dressed, or wait until they came and dressed me?Oh, get it over with, come in...

However, they continued to torture him for another two minutes or so.The door swung open and his lawyer entered quickly and quietly. His hair was disheveled and he was sweating profusely.As he fiddled with his left sleeve, he looked around with his eyes. "I've lost a shirt cuff link," he cried, panting like a dog, "must have been ... caught in something ... when I was with sweet little Amy ... she always So naughty... Swallowtail... I stop by her every time... The problem is I hear something... But I don't care... Well, the chain link must be... I like it very much... Hey, it's too much now It's late... Maybe I can... I promised the guards... Too bad, but..."

"Stupid, careless mistake," said Cincinnatus flatly. "I made a false alarm. Such things are not good for the heart." "Oh, thank you, don't mind it, it's nothing," the lawyer murmured absently.His eyes searched carefully all the corners of the cell.It was obvious that he was very sorry to lose such a thing.This thing is precious.He was very sad to lose this thing. Cincinnatus snorted softly and went back to bed.Another sat down at the foot of the bed. "When I came to see you," said the lawyer, "I was in a very good mood, very happy... But now this little incident has spoiled my mood--but it is a little incident after all, and I am sure you will agree. This opinion. There are more important things than this. By the way, how do you feel?"

"Want to have a private conversation with you," Cincinnatus replied with his eyes closed. "I want to tell you some of the conclusions I have come to. I am surrounded by some nasty ghosts, not people. They torment me in every possible way: meaningless hallucinations, nightmares, nonsense, Silly things in nightmares, everything that can pass for real life here. In theory, people want to wake up. But I can't wake up without outside help, but I am very afraid of this help. My soul has changed. Lazy and used to tightly wrapped clothes. Of all the ghosts that surround me, you Roman Vissarionovich is probably the most annoying, but on the other hand - from the virtual between us In terms of your logical position in the relationship—you are, in a sense, an advisor, an advocate..."

"I'm at your service," said the lawyer, secretly pleased to see Cincinnatus talkative at last. "What I want to ask you is: what reason do they have for refusing to tell me the exact execution date? Wait a minute, I haven't finished my sentence yet. The so-called warden didn't give a positive answer, but also mentioned a fact-you Wait! First, I want to know, who has the authority to set this date. Second, I want to know, how can I get a little sanity from that institution or person or group of people...” The lawyer, who was eager to speak just now, fell silent for some reason.His painted face, dark blue eyebrows, and long harelip showed no particular mental activity.

"Stop thinking about your sleeves," said Cincinnatus. "Concentrate." Roman Vissarionovich awkwardly changed his position and tightly knit his restless fingers together.He said in a mournful voice: "It is precisely because of that state of mind..." "I'm going to be executed," Cincinnati said. "I know that. Go on." "Let's change the subject, I beg you," cried Roman Vissarionovich. "Aren't you allowed to speak legally now? It's too bad, I can't bear it. I stopped by to see you, just to ask what legal request you have . . . for instance," (saying Here he is radiant) "Perhaps you would like hard copies of the trial statements? If so, you must submit the necessary application immediately, which you and I can begin to prepare now, specifying how many copies of the statements are required and for what purpose. I just happen to have an hour to spare—oh, come on, let's get to work! I've even brought the special envelope."

"Just out of curiosity . . . " said Cincinnatus, "but first . . . so is there really no chance of an answer?" "A special envelope," repeated the lawyer, trying to entice him. "Well, here you go," said Cincinnatus, tearing the thick, bulging envelope into wrinkled pieces. "You shouldn't have done that," the lawyer said, on the verge of tears. "You should never have done that. You don't even realize what you've done. Maybe it contained a pardon, and it's impossible to ask for another!" Cincinnatus picked up a handful of fragments and tried to put them back together, even if it was a coherent sentence, but everything was messed up, deformed, falling apart.

"You do things like this all the time," muttered the lawyer, pacing across the cell with his hands crossed at his temples. "Your salvation may be in your own hands, but you... are a wretch! Tell me, what else can I do? Now that it's all over... How happy I was! How carefully I let you You get ready!" "May I come in?" the warden asked in a full voice. "Shouldn't it bother you?" "Come in, Rodrigo Ivanovitch, come in," said the lawyer. "Come in, my dear Rodrigo Ivanovitch. It's just that the atmosphere here is not pleasant..."

"Well, how is our doomed friend feeling today?" the graceful, commanding warden quipped, clutching Cincinnatus's cold little hand in his own plump purple paw. "Is everything all right? No pain? Still chatting with our indefatigable Roman Vissarionovich? Oh, I'll tell you by the way, dear Roman Vissarionovich , I have good news for you - my naughty little daughter just found your cuff links on the stairs. It's made of French gold, isn't it? Very, very delicate. I usually don't say Complimentary, but I can't help but say..." The two of them walked into a corner, pretending to examine the charming little ornament, discussing its history and value, and admiring it.Cincinnatus took the opportunity to accuse him from under the bed, loud and menacing, but finally hesitant again...

"Yes, the style is indeed very beautiful, really very beautiful," the warden repeated these words as he walked back from the corner with the lawyer. "Looks like you're feeling fine, young man," he said meaninglessly to Cincinnatus as he crawled back into bed. "Anyway. You shouldn't be childish. The public, and those of us who represent it, have only your welfare in mind--that should be clear by now. We stand ready to help you with your loneliness, to make you Life is easier for you. In a few days, a new prisoner will be moving into one of our luxury cells. You will get to know each other, and it will be fun for you."

"How many days?" asked Cincinnatus. "So I have a few days left to live?" "Listen," said the warden, chuckling, "that he should be told the whole truth. What do you think, Roman Vissarionovich?" "Oh, my friend, you are quite right," sighed the lawyer. "Yes, sir," went on the Warden, jingling the chain of keys. "You should be more cooperative, sir. He's been haughty, angry, and malicious all this time. I sent him some plums last night, and guess what? The lord decided not to eat them, the lord was too proud .Well, sir! I said just now that a new prisoner is coming, and you can talk to him as much as you like. There is no need to be so sullen. Am I right, Roman Vissarionovich?" "You're right, Rodion, you're right," the lawyer agreed, with an involuntary smile on his face. Rodion continued, stroking his beard, "I feel very sorry for the poor gentleman—I came in and saw him standing on a chair folded on top of a table, tiptoeing to go with his little hands. Grabbing the iron bars on the window, it looks like a sick monkey. The sky is blue, the swallows are flying, and the clouds are high-blessing! God's grace! I lifted this gentleman from the table like a baby I was yelling at the top of my lungs—yes, standing here, I kept yelling... I was really about to break down, and I felt very sorry for him." "By the way, let's take him upstairs, what do you think?" the lawyer suggested hesitantly. "No problem, of course," Rodion said in a drawn-out tone, showing his calm kindness. "We can do that at any time." "Put on your dressing gown," said Roman Vissarionovitch. Cincinnatus says: "I submit to you, you ghosts, jackals, parodies. I submit to you. But I demand—yes, demand," (another Cincinnatus stomps hysterically , the slippers are all off) "You tell me how much time I have left to live...and whether I will be allowed to meet my wife." "Maybe it will be allowed," Roman Vissarionovich replied after exchanging glances with Rodion. "Don't talk too much. Well, let's go." "Please," said Rodion, pushing the unlocked door with his shoulder. The three went out together: Rodion in front, bow-legged, in faded breeches, with puffed hips.The lawyer followed him in a frock coat with a stain on the celluloid collar and a black wig with pinkish muslin trim at the bottom of his head.Behind him, at the end, came Cincinnatus, throwing off his slippers and wrapping his dressing gown tighter. At the bend in the corridor, another unnamed guard saluted them.In the corridor, areas of dim azurite light alternate with areas of darkness.They went on and on.One turn after another.A few times the same dank figure appeared on the wall they passed, looking like a scrawny horse, which was scary.Every now and then a light needs to be turned on, with an unpleasant yellow glow from a dusty bulb above or beside it.Sometimes the lightbulbs burned out and they had to shuffle in the dark.In one place, inexplicable sunlight fell unexpectedly from above, and spread a misty light on the corroded stone slabs.The warden's daughter, Amy, in a bright gingham dress and gingham socks—a total child, but with marble calves like a ballerina's—was hitting balls rhythmically against the wall.She turned her head and brushed a strand of blond hair away from her cheek with the fourth and fifth fingers of one hand, watching the small procession pass her.Rodion amused her by jingling the chain of keys as he passed her.The lawyer stroked her shiny hair gently, but her eyes were fixed on Cincinnatus, who smiled at her in horror.At the next turn in the aisle, all three looked back.Amy was staring at them, still patting the smooth red and blue ball with her hands. They walked for a long time in the dark again, and at the end, there was a crimson bulb glowing above a coil of fire hose.Rodion opened a low iron gate, and after entering the iron gate, there were stone steps spiraling upwards.At this time, the order of the three changed slightly: Rodion stood still, let the lawyer and Cincinnatus pass one after another, and then quietly walked behind the team. It was not easy to climb the steep stairs, and the darkness gradually faded as they climbed.It was a long climb, and out of boredom Cincinnatus began counting the steps up to three digits, when he stumbled and forgot the number.Brightness gradually increases.Cincinnatus was exhausted, like a child climbing stairs, starting with the same foot every time.Turning another corner, a strong wind suddenly blows, the summer sky is dazzlingly displayed in front of my eyes, and the chirping of swallows pierces the sky. The three of them came to a wide platform at the top of a tower, and the surrounding scenery was exciting, because not only the tower itself was huge, but the whole fortress was like a giant, standing on the top of a huge cliff, as if growing out of the cliff A big guy.Below, you can see almost vertical vineyards, a light yellow road winding down to a dry river bed; a small man in a red suit is crossing a convex bridge; dog. In the distance, the sunny town looks like a huge semicircle: rows of flat houses in colorful colors, surrounded by trees forming an arc, and other crooked houses lined up along the slope, as if stepping on their own shadows .You can also make out the passing traffic on First Avenue, and the purple shimmer at the end of the street is the well-known fountain.Farther on, misty hills overlapped to form the horizon, speckled oak forests, now and then pools of water shone like little mirrors, and other bright ovals of water met in the west, glowing through the soft mist, That's where the Strop River comes from.Cincinnatus, motionless with his hand on his cheek, filled with an indescribably vague but possibly joyful despair, gazed at the twilight and mist of Tamara Park, at the dove-blue shadows behind it. The Gentle Mountains—ah, he stared at it for a long time, and couldn't bear to look away... The lawyer was only a few steps away, and he leaned his elbows against the broad stone parapet, whose top was actually covered with a thriving vegetable.His back was stained with chalk.He looked anxiously into space, his left patent leather shoe on top of his right, his lower eyelid turned outward from the pressure of his cheeks.Rodion found a broom from nowhere and cleaned the flagstones on the platform without saying a word. "How obsessive it all is," Cincinnatus said, looking at the park and the mountains (for some reason, repeating the word "obsessed" in the wind is especially pleasant, like a child covering his ears Then suddenly let go, so changing the auditory world for joy). "Fascinating! I've never seen mountains so beautiful, so mysterious. In some overlap of mountains, in their mysterious valleys, can't I... No, I'd better not think about it .” He walked all over the platform.The plain stretches toward the north, cloud shadows pass over the plain, and grasslands and grain fields appear alternately.Beyond a bend in the Strop River, the outlines of old airfields and buildings holding old dilapidated planes, their wings smeared with rust, can be seen.Airplane holidays are still sometimes used, mainly for the entertainment of the disabled.The content is dull and boring.Time dozed peacefully.Legend has it that there was a man in the city who was a pharmacist. It is said that his great-grandfather once left a memoir describing how businessmen flew to China. After Cincinnatus walked around the platform, he returned to the southern parapet.He is traveling illegally to the fullest with his eyes.Now he thinks he recognizes that particular flowering bush, that bird, that path that disappears under the shadow of the ivy— "That's all," said the warden kindly, throwing the broom into a corner and putting on his frock coat again. "go home." "Yes, it's time," the lawyer agreed, looking at his watch. The little procession began to walk back.In front was the warden Rodrigo Ivanovich, followed by the lawyer Roman Vissarionovich, and lastly the prisoner Cincinnatus, who, after taking a great deal of fresh air, Can't help but yawn again and again.The back of the warden's frock coat was stained with chalk.