Chapter 10 "Duel" Nine

Nine Laevsky and Nadyezhda Fyodorovna went home and went into their dark, stuffy, dull room.The two of them were silent.Laevsky lit a candle.Nadyezhda Fyodorovna sat down, without taking off her coat and hat, and looked at him with sad, guilty eyes. He understood that she was waiting for his explanation, but the explanation was tedious, unhelpful, and laborious.His heart was heavy because he couldn't hold back his anger and said harsh things to her.Inadvertently he found in his pocket a letter which he intended to read to her every day, and he thought that if he showed her this letter now, he would be able to direct her attention elsewhere.

"Now is the time to clarify the relationship," he thought to himself. "Just show her. What is going to happen is going to happen. " He took out the letter and gave it to her. "Take a look. This letter concerns you." Having said this, he went back to his study, and lay down on the couch in the dark, with no pillow under his head.After reading the letter, Nadezhda Fyodorovna felt as if the ceiling had collapsed and the walls were closing in on her.The room suddenly became cramped, dark, and scary.She made the sign of the sign of the cross three times quickly, and said: "Rest in peace, Lord. . . . Rest in peace, Lord. . . . " She wept.

"Vanya!" she cried. "Ivan Andreitch!" There was no answering voice.She thought Laevsky had come and was standing by her chair, and she whimpered like a child and said, "Why didn't you tell me he was dead? Then I wouldn't have gone to the party." Picnic, no laughing so loudly.  … Some men said something vulgar to me. What a crime, what a crime! Help me, Vanya, save me. … I'm lost. . . . I'm lost. . . . " Laevsky heard her cry.He was overwhelmed with suffocation, and his heart was beating violently.Filled with gloom, he got up, stood in the middle of the room for a while, groped in the dark, found the chair by the table, and sat down.

"This is a prison..." he thought to himself. "I have to go. . . . I can't take it. ..." It was too late to go out and play cards.There are no restaurants in the city to go to either.He sat down again and covered his ears so as not to hear the crying.It occurred to him that he could go to Samoylenko's.Not wanting to pass Nadezhda Fyodorovna, he climbed out of the window, into the little garden, over the fence, and out into the street.It was very dark.A steamer had just arrived here, and judging from the lights on board it was a large passenger liner. ... The sound of breaking down the anchor sounded loudly.A red light was moving quickly from the shore to the ship, the customs ship.

"The passengers are fast asleep in the cabin, . . . " thought Laevsky, envious of the peace of others. The windows of Samoylenko's house were open.Laevsky glanced in from one window, then from another, and the room was dark and silent. "Alexander Daviditch, are you asleep?" he called. "Alexander Daviditch!" Coughing and disturbed shouts filled the room: "Who is it? What's the trouble?" "It's me, Alexander Daviditch. I'm sorry." After a while the door opened, the soft gleam of the ever-burning lamp flickered, and Samoylenko, a tall man in white clothes and a white peaked hat, appeared.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked, half asleep, panting as he tickled. "Wait a minute, I'll open the street door right away." "Don't bother, I'll crawl in through the window..." Laevsky went through the small window, went up to Samoylenko, and took his hand. "Alexander Daviditch," he said in a trembling voice, "help me! I beg you, I beg you, you have to understand me!My situation is dire.If this goes on for even a day or two, I'm going to strangle myself like a... dog! " "Wait a minute... What exactly are you talking about?"

"You light the candles." "Ah, ah..." sighed Samoylenko, lighting a candle. "My God, my God. . . . It's past one, man." "Sorry, I can't stay at home anymore," Laevsky said.Seeing the candlelight and the presence of Samoylenko, he felt much more at ease. "You, Alexander Daviditch, are my only good friend. . . . All my hopes are in you. Help me, for God's sake, whether you like it or not. .I have to get out of here anyway. Lend me some money!" "Oh, my God, my God! . . . " said Samoylenko, sighing, and scratching himself. "I was just about to fall asleep when I heard a siren, a steamer came, and then you came again. . . . Do you want a lot of money?"

"At least three hundred rubles. I'll leave her a hundred, and I'll take two hundred and go on my way. . . . I owe you about four hundred, but I'll send you all, . . . all. . . . " Samoylenko grasped the side whiskers of his cheeks with one hand, put his legs aside, and fell into thought. "Oh..." he murmured thoughtfully. "Three hundred. ...... 蕖* But I don't have that much. I have to borrow it from others." "Go and borrow it, for God's sake!" said Laevsky, and it was clear from Samoylenko's face that he would lend him money, and he would. "Borrow it, and I'll pay it back. I'll wire you the money as soon as I get to Petersburg. You can take care of that. Well, Sasha," he said, cheering up. "Let's have some drinks!"

"Okay... Drink as you drink." The two of them walked into the dining room. "But what about Nadezhda Fyodorovna?" Samoylenko asked, setting down three bottles of wine and a plate of peaches on the table. "Is she staying here?" "I'll make it all right, I'll make it all right," said Laevsky, feeling a sudden surge of joy in his heart. "I'll send her some money later, so she can go to me. . . . so that we can clarify our relationship. A toast to your health, friend." "Wait!" said Samoylenko. "Drink this wine first. . . . It's made in my vineyard. This one is from the Navaridze vineyard, and this one is from the Ahatulov vineyard. . . . You have a taste." Taste these three kinds of wine, and then tell me your opinion honestly....My bottle seems to be a little sour? Huh? Didn't you taste it?"

"Yes. You have comforted me, Alexander Daviditch. Thank you. ... I am alive again. " "Is it a bit sour?" "Damn it, I can't taste it. But you're a magnanimous and nice fellow!" Looking at his pale, excited, kind face, Samoylenko recalled von Koren's opinion that people like him should be exterminated; and it seemed to Samoylenko that Laevsky seemed It has become a little doll who can be bullied and destroyed by everyone, and has no power to defend itself. "When you go back, make peace with your mother," he said. "It's not good right now."

"Yes, yes, I must reconcile with her." They were silent for a while.When the first bottle of wine was finished, Samoylenko said: "You and von Koren should make peace too. You are both extremely fine and intelligent people, and yet you are hostile to each other." "Yes, he is a very good and very clever man," agreed Laevsky, ready to praise and forgive everyone. "He's a wonderful man, but I can't get on with him. No! We're too different in character. I'm weak, powerless, easy-going. I might reach out to him in due time." , but he will definitely hold a contemptuous attitude...turn his face away and ignore me." Laevsky took a sip of his wine, walked from corner to corner, stopped in the middle of the room, and continued: "I know von Koren very well. He is firm, powerful, imperious. You hear him repeating Expeditions to distant lands are not empty words. He needs deserts and moonlit nights; under the open air, in tents all around, sleeps his starving, sick Cossacks, guides, porters, physicians, priests, who, due to the long journey And exhausted, he was the only one who did not sleep, sitting in a folding chair like Stanley, feeling himself the emperor of the desert, the master of these people. He walked, walked, kept going, he His men groaned and died one by one, but he kept on going, and he died himself, but still the tyrant and emperor of the desert, for the cross on his grave was thirty or forty miles away He can be seen by the caravans carrying goods and rule the desert. I regret that this man did not serve in the army. He would make a good and talented commander. He can make his cavalry drown in the river, use Their corpses make a bridge, and such bravery is needed in war more than any fortification or tactics. Oh, I know him well! Tell me, why did he come here to hang out? Why should he stay here? ?” "He's studying animals in the ocean." "No, no, brother, no!" said Laevsky, with a sigh. "One of the scientific passengers on the ship told me that the animals in the Black Sea are poor, and that there is so much hydrogen sulphide in the depths that organisms cannot survive. All serious zoologists are in Naples or Villafranca. I work in the Institute of Biology in Lanka. But von Koren is independent and stubborn. He wants to work here because no one works here in the Black Sea. He has broken with the university and is unwilling to associate with scholars and colleagues. , because he is a tyrant first, and a zoologist second. You see, he will achieve great things in the future. Even now he is fantasizing that when he returns from his expeditions, he will clean up the strife in our university Morality and mediocrity keep the learned men in subservience. Despotism is as strong in science as it is in war. It's his second summer living in this stinking little town, because he'd rather be in the country He doesn't want to be number one in town, and he doesn't want to be number two in town. He's king and eagle here. He subdues all the inhabitants, overpowering them with his authority.He holds everyone in his hands, interferes in other people's affairs, and takes care of everything. Everyone is afraid of him.I was slipping from his claws, he felt it, and hated me for it.He told you that you should kill me, or send me to hard labor? " "Yes," said Samoylenko, laughing. Laevsky laughed too, and drank some wine. "His ideals are imperious, too," he said with a laugh, eating a peach. "If an ordinary person works for the common good, what he thinks of is the people around him, that is, you, me, in a word, ordinary people. But for von Koren, people are puppies, worthless things, too insignificant to be the goal of his life. He worked, went on a field trip, and died there, not out of love for people, but out of abstract ideas, such as humanitarianism, offspring, ideals, etc. race, etc. He is devoted to the improvement of race, to which we are nothing but slaves, cannon fodder, and beasts of burden. Some will be exterminated, or exiled to drudgery, and others Strictly controlled people, like Arakcheyev, forced people to wake up and sleep to the sound of drums, sent eunuchs to supervise our chastity and morals, and ordered the shooting of anyone who exceeded our narrow and conservative moral range, and All of these are for the improvement of the race.... Then what is the race? hallucinations, mirages. ... A tyrant is always a fantasist.I, man, know him well.I respect him and don't deny his importance.The world depends on men like him to keep it going; if it were left to us, we would make a mess of it, with all our good intentions, as the fly messed up the picture Same.That's how it is. " Laevsky sat down next to Samoylenko and said with sincere enthusiasm: "I am a shallow, boring, degenerate man! The air I breathe, this wine, love, in a word, my Life, hitherto, has been bought at the price of hypocrisy, laziness, cowardice. Hitherto I have deceived others and myself, and I have suffered for it, but my suffering has been cheap and vulgar. I am in von In front of Ke Lian's hatred, I timidly bowed down, because sometimes, I even hate myself and look down on myself." Laevsky went from one corner to another excitedly, saying: "I am happy because I know my shortcomings and realize them. This will help me resurrect and become another person.My good friend, I wish you knew with what passion and hunger I longed to be a man again.I swear to you, I'm going to be a real human!I will!Whether it was the wine that did it to me, or the truth, I don't know, but I feel as if I haven't had such a sober and pure time with you for a long time. " "It's time to go to bed now, brother..." said Samoylenko. "Yes, yes. . . . I'm sorry. I'll be leaving right away." Laevsky looked about among the furniture and the window-sills, looking for his hat. "Thank you, ..." he murmured, sighing. "Thank you. A kind word is better than a handout. You have brought me to life again." He found his hat, stopped, and looked at Samoylenko with shame. "Alexander Daviditch!" he said in a beseeching voice. "What's up?" "Good friend, let me spend the night with you!" "Welcome....Why not?" Laevsky lay down on the couch and talked for a long time with the doctor. "Notes" ① Stanley (1841-1904), British African explorer. ②③ are Italian place names.