Chapter 16 "Duel" XV

fifteen Laevsky decided not to tell the lie all at once, but to tell it bit by bit, so at around one o'clock the next afternoon he went to Samoylenko's to borrow money in order to be sure to be able to leave on Saturday.Since his hysterical bout yesterday had added a sharp sense of shame to his gloomy mood, it seemed to him unthinkable to live in this town any longer.If Samoylenko insisted on his terms, he thought, he might as well agree to them, take the money, leave tomorrow, and justify that Nadezhda Fyodorovna would not go.This evening he could always convince her that it was for her own good.If Samoylenko, under the obvious influence of von Koren, refuses to borrow money at all, or puts forward any new conditions, then he, Laevsky, will set off today on a freighter, or else he will simply take a Sailing, to Novo-Avon or Novorossiysk, stay there, send a low-key telegram to his mother, and wait for his mother to wire him the travel expenses before leaving.

He went into Samoylenko's house and happened to meet von Koren in the drawing room.The zoologist had just arrived here for lunch, and as usual, he opened his photo album and looked at the men in top hats and women in caps. "What a coincidence," Laevsky thought to himself when he saw him. "He'll get in the way." "Hello!" he said. "Good day!" replied von Koren, without looking at him. "Is Alexander Daviditch at home?" "At home. He's in the kitchen." Laevsky went to the kitchen, but seeing Samoylenko at the door busy making cold salad, he went back and sat down in the living room.The presence of a zoologist, who had always felt awkward, was now afraid to speak of his hysteria.They passed more than a minute in silence.Von Koren suddenly raised his eyes to Laevsky and asked: "You were ill yesterday, how are you feeling now?"

"Very well," said Laevsky, blushing. "Actually, it's nothing serious. . . . " "Until yesterday, I thought only women were hysterical, so at first I thought you had chorea." Laevsky put on a flattering smile and thought to himself: "He's being too inconsiderate. He knows very well that I'm sad. ..." "Yes, that's a funny thing," he said, still grinning. "I laughed all morning. It's queer when hysteria hits you, knowing it's absurd, and thinking it's ridiculous, but at the same time you cry. In our nervous age, we're all nervous." The slaves of our minds, our nerves have become our masters, and we are at the mercy of our natures. Civilization has done us a disservice in this. . . . " Laevsky went on eloquently, but felt uncomfortable because von Corren listened to him gravely and intently, and looked at him intently, without blinking, as if studying him.He also hated himself, because even though he didn't like von Koren, he couldn't stop the flattering smile on his face anyway.

"Having said that," he went on, "I must also admit that this attack has a direct cause, and a rather important one. I have been in poor health lately. I am also bored, and I am often short of money. , . . . lack of friends and common interests. . . . I'm in a terrible situation." "Yes, your situation is hopeless," said von Koren. Whether this calm and indifferent remark contained irony or abrupt prophecy, Laevsky was insulted by it.He recalled the mocking and disgusted eyes of the zoologist yesterday, and he was silent for a moment, and without smiling, he asked: "How did you know about my situation?"

"You just said it yourself. Besides, your friends take such an interest in you that people keep hearing about you all day long." "What friend? You mean Samoylenko?" "Yes, he's in there too." "I will ask Alexandr Daviditch and all my friends to worry less about my affairs." "When Samoylenko comes, you yourself can ask him to be less concerned about your affairs." "I don't understand why you speak in such a tone..." muttered Laevsky.He suddenly had a feeling as if he hadn't realized until now that the zoologist hated him, despised him, mocked him, that the zoologist was his worst and sworn enemy. "Speak in that tone to someone else, please," he said softly, too full of energy to speak aloud.This hatred filled his chest and throat like the desire to laugh yesterday.

Samoylenko came in, shirtless, flushed with sweat from the heat of the kitchen. "Oh, you're here?" he said. "Hello, old man. Have you had dinner? You're welcome, tell me: have you had dinner?" "Alexander Daviditch," said Laevsky, standing up, "if I make any personal request to you, it does not mean that I release you from the duty of discretion and respect for other people's secrets." "What's the matter?" Samoylenko asked in surprise. "If you have no money," went on Laevsky, raising his voice and moving his feet excitedly, "then don't give me any money, refuse me, and why go to the streets and alleys and talk about my What about the situation where there is no way out? This kind of kindness, this kind of helping friends, lip service, I can’t stand it! You want to brag about your good deeds, you can brag, but no one gives you the right to publicize My secret!"

"What secret?" Samoylenko asked, puzzled and beginning to get angry. "If you're here to scold people, then go away. Come back later!" He remembered an old method: whenever he was angry with others, he would count to one hundred in his heart, and he would calm down.He counted quickly. "I beg you not to worry about me!" went on Laevsky. "Never mind my business. What do I do, how do I live, what does it matter to anyone else? Yes, I want to get out of here! Yes, I'm in debt, I drink, I live with other people's wives, I'm hysterical I'm vulgar, not as deep-minded as some people, but what does this have to do with outsiders? Respect others!"

"You, brother, I'm sorry," said Samoylenko, counting to thirty-five, "but..." "Respect people!" Laevsky interrupted him. "Such constant talking about other people's affairs, making a fuss, prying into privacy, eavesdropping on secrets, this kind of friendly care,... go to hell! Lend me money, but you have to put some conditions, treat me like a child! Look down on me I don't know what to take me for! I don't want anything!" cried Laevsky, staggering with excitement, for fear that he would be hysterical again. "Then I won't be able to go on Saturday," the thought flashed through his mind.He added: "I don't want anything! Just I beg you, please, don't keep me under strict supervision! I am not a child, nor a madman, and I ask for my restraint to be lifted."

The deacon came in.Seeing Laevsky pale, waving his arms, and making a strange speech before the portrait of Prince Vorontsov, he could not help standing still at the door. "This constant prying into my soul," went on Laevsky, "offends my personal dignity, and I ask the volunteer spies to stop their prying! Enough!" "What... what did you say?" Samoylenko, blushing after counting one hundred, went up to Laevsky and asked. "Enough!" repeated Laevsky, out of breath, and took up his hat. "I am a Russian doctor, I am a nobleman, and I am a fifth-rank civil servant!" Samoylenko said sternly. "I've never been a spy before, and I won't allow anyone to insult me!" He yelled hoarsely, trying to pronounce the last two words. "Shut up!"

The deacon, who had never seen a physician so majestic and pompous, blushed and looked menacing, put his hand to his mouth, and ran into the hall, laughing loudly.As if through a mist, Laevsky saw von Koren get up and put his hands in his trouser pockets; from the way he stood it seemed that he was waiting to see what would happen next. like.Laevsky found this gesture of composure extremely haughty and insulting. "Please take back your words!" Samoylenko shouted. Laevsky, now not remembering what he had said, replied: "Get away from me! I don't want anything! All I ask is that you and those Jewish Germans* stay away from me! Otherwise I will Take action! I'm going to beat people!"

"Now we understand," said von Koren, coming across the table. "Mr. Laevsky intends to amuse himself with a duel before he leaves. I will accompany you. I accept your challenge, Mr. Laevsky." "Challenge?" whispered Laevsky, coming up to the zoologist and looking at his tanned brow and curly hair with hatred. "Challenge? Challenge! I hate you! I hate you!" "Yes. To-morrow morning near the little restaurant at Kerbalay. All the details will be arranged as you wish. Now get out of here." "I hate you!" Laevsky whispered, panting. "I hated you already! duel!OK! " "Get him out, Alexander Daviditch, or I'll go," said von Koren. "He's going to bite me." Von Koren's calm tone calmed down the doctor.He suddenly regained consciousness for some reason, put his arms around Laevsky's waist, pulled him away from the zoologist, and muttered in a voice trembling with excitement: "My friends, . With a friendly tone, he felt that something terrible had happened in his life just now, as if he was almost run over by a train. He almost cried, waved his hands, and ran out of the room . "My God, how miserable it is to suffer yourself to be hated by others, and to look so pitiful, so contemptible, in front of those who hate you!" Sitting in the kiosk selling food and drink, I thought to myself, I felt as if my whole body was covered with rust because of the hatred I received just now. "How vulgar it is, my God!" Cool water and brandy refreshed his spirits.He pictured clearly von Koren's calm, haughty face, his gaze yesterday, his blanket-like shirt, his tone of voice, his white hands; Hate boiled in his chest, eager for revenge.In his imagination he knocked von Koren to the ground and stomped on him.He recalled everything that had just happened, back and forth, bit by bit, and he couldn't help wondering how he could put on a flattering smile to an insignificant person, and generally speaking, how he could pay attention to those who lived in the world. The opinion of the shallow and obscure people in a poor little town, which probably cannot be found on a map, and not one of the upper classes of Petersburg knows it.Even if the small town suddenly collapsed or was destroyed by fire, readers all over Russia would find this telegram as dull as an advertisement for the sale of old furniture.Tomorrow von Koren was shot and killed, or alive, it was all the same, equally useless and boring.It would be better to shoot him in the leg or arm, hurt him a little, then laugh at him, and let him disappear into the grass like an insect with a broken leg, with pain he dare not explain. Among those who are as small as him. Laevsky went to Sheshkovsky's and told him the whole story, asking him to be a witness.Then they both set off to the postmaster, asked him to be a witness, and dined at his house.During the meal, they told a lot of jokes and laughed for a long time.Laevsky also laughed at himself, said he could hardly shoot a gun at all, and yet called himself Royal Shooter and William Tell. "The gentleman should be taught a lesson, . . . " he said. After dinner, they sat down to play cards.Laevsky played cards, drank wine, and thought to himself: Generally speaking, duels are stupid and senseless, because they don't solve the problem, but complicate it, but sometimes it would be better without it. It doesn't work either.This is the case, for example, in the present case.You can't drag von Koren to the mediating judge to sue!And this duel is also good, because after that he can no longer live in this city.He was a little drunk, but he was very interested in playing cards and felt in a good mood. But when the sun went down and it got dark, he was restless.It was not that he was afraid of death, for all the time he ate and played cards he had, for some reason, been convinced that the duel would end in vain; and dread the night to come. ...he knew it was going to be a long night and he wouldn't be able to sleep.He must have thought not only of von Koren and his hatred, but of the mountain of hypocrisy which he had to climb, which he had neither the strength nor the skill to avoid.He seemed suddenly ill, lost all interest in cards and people for a moment, fidgeted, and began to ask everyone to let him go home.He wanted to get to bed quickly, then stay still, ready to think all night.Sheshkovsky and the post office officials sent him home, and then went to von Koren's house to discuss the duel. Laevsky met Atchmianov near his lodgings.The young man was panting and looking excited. "I'm looking for you, Ivan Andreitch!" he said. "I beg you to go quickly. . . . " "Where?" "A gentleman you don't know wants to see you. He has a business of great importance to you. He begs you to go to him for a while. He has something to talk to you about. ... It was a matter of life and death for him. ..." Achmianov was very excited, and when he said these words with a strong Armenian accent, he pronounced "birth" as "rope". "Who is he?" asked Laevsky. "He asked me not to give his name." "Just tell him I'm busy. If he likes, we can talk to-morrow. . . . " "That's impossible!" said Atchmianov in horror. "He wants to talk to you about something very important to you, . . . very important! If you don't come, something bad will happen." "Strange..." Laevsky muttered, not understanding why Atchmianov was so excited, and what secrets there were in this boring little town where no one was needed. "Strange," he repeated in thought. "Go ahead, though. It doesn't matter anyway." Atchmianov walked quickly ahead, and he followed.After they walked through the main street, they turned into an alley. "How tedious it is," Laevsky said. "It's coming, it's coming. . . . very close." Near the old wall, they walked through a narrow alley between two walls, beyond which there was an open space.Then they walked into a large yard and walked towards a small house. ... "Is this Mulidov's house?" asked Laevsky. "correct." "But I don't understand: why did we come in from the backyard? We could have walked through the street. It's much closer that way. . . ." Atchmianov led him to the back door of the house, and beckoned him to go in quietly without speaking. "This way, this way..." said Atchmianov, opening the back door carefully, and tiptoed into the passage. "Easy, easy, I beg you. ...they will hear. " He listened carefully, exhaled with difficulty, and said in a low voice, "Here, you open the door and go in....Don't be afraid." Bewildered, Laevsky opened the door and entered a room with a low ceiling and drawn curtains at the windows.There is a candle on the table. "Who are you looking for?" someone asked in the next room. "Mulidka, is that you?" Laevsky turned to the room, went in, and saw Kirilin with Nadezhda Fyodorovna beside him. He didn't hear what was said to him, but he staggered back, not knowing how he got out into the street.His hatred of von Koren and his uneasiness disappeared from his soul.As he walked home, he swung his right arm awkwardly, staring intently at the soles of his feet, trying to walk on level ground.He went home, went into the study, rubbed his hands, shrugged his shoulders and neck awkwardly, as if his blouse and shirt were too tight.He went from corner to corner, lit a candle, and sat down at a table. ... "Notes" ① Judging by the surname of von Koren, the zoologist was originally from Germany. ②The hero in Swiss folklore is a good archer.