Chapter 18 eighteen

eighteen Andrey Yefimitch went to the window and looked out into the country.It was dark, and on the horizon on the right, a cold red moon rose.Not far from the hospital wall, about a hundred yards away, was a tall white house surrounded by stone walls.This is prison. "See, this is reality!" thought Andrey Yefimitch.He was afraid. This moon, this prison, these iron nails on the wall, together with the flames rising from the bone burning yard in the distance, all make people shudder.A sigh came from behind.Andrey Yefimitch turned his head and saw a man with a shining star and order on his chest.He was smiling, squeezing one eye slyly.It looked terrible too.

Andrey Yefimitch convinced himself that there was nothing special about the moon and the prison, that sane people still wore medals, and that everything in the world eventually rots and turns to dust.But suddenly he fell into despair, stretched out his hands to grab the iron railing, and shook it with all his strength.The solid bars didn't budge. Then, to get rid of his terror, he went to Ivan Dmitry's bed and sat down. "My mind is broken, dear friend," he whispered, wiping his cold sweat tremblingly, "my spirit is broken." "Then tell me about the philosophy of life," said Ivan Dmitri bitterly.

"My God, my God, . . . Yes, yes, you once said that there is no philosophy in Russia, but even the little people talk about philosophy. But you know that little people can talk about philosophy without harming anyone," said Ann. Andrei Yefimitch said in a tone that seemed ready to cry and to arouse pity, "My friend, why do you laugh at people so gleefully? If the little man is dissatisfied, why can't he speak up? A person who is intelligent, educated, self-respecting, and loves freedom, a person who is as holy as a god, has no other way out, except to become a doctor in a dirty and ignorant town, and spend his whole life cupping, sticking leeches, and sticking to the patients. Mustard paste! Charming, petty, vulgar! Oh, my God!"

"You're talking nonsense. If you hate being a doctor, become a minister." "No, not anywhere. We are weak, my dear... I have always been indifferent to the world, I think positively and clearly, but when life touches me roughly, I sink down... Depressed... We are weak and useless . . . you too, my friend. You are wise and noble, you suck your beautiful passion from your mother's milk, but as soon as you step into life you are tired and sick... We are weak, weak!" As evening approached, Andrey Yefimitch, besides fear and humiliation, felt at every moment an inescapable pain.Finally, he figured out that he wanted to drink beer and smoke.

"I'm going out, my friend," he said, "and I'll tell them to get the lights. . . . It can't be like this. . . . I can't bear it. . . . " Andrey Yefimitch went to the door and opened it, but Nikita immediately jumped up and blocked his way. "Where are you going? No, no!" he said. "Time to sleep!" "I'll go out for a while and take a walk in the yard," said Andrey Yefimitch in a panic. "No, no, it's not allowed. You know it yourself." Nikita slammed the door shut and put her back against the panel. "But even if I go out, who cares what?" asked Andrey Yefimitch, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't understand! Nikita, I'm going out!" he said in a trembling voice. Say, "I must get out!"

"Don't make trouble, it's not good!" Nikita taught. "The devil knows what's going on!" cried Ivan Dmitry, jumping up suddenly. "What right does he have to keep people out? How dare they keep us here? The law seems to say that there is no trial." No one can be deprived of liberty! This is violence! Despotism!" "Of course, it's bossy!" Andrei said.Yefimitch, encouraged by Ivan Dmitri's cry, said also, "I want to go out. I must go out. He has no right! Let me out, do you hear?" "Do you hear, stupid pig?" Ivan Dmitry yelled, beating the door with his fist. "Open it, or I'll smash it! Butcher!"

"Open the door! . . . Andrey Yefimitch, trembling all over, shouted, "I want you to open the door!" " "Shout again!" Nikita replied from behind the door, "Shout!" "At least go and fetch Yevgeny Fedoritch. Tell him I'll ask him to come . . . for a while!" "Master himself will come tomorrow." "They will never let us out!" continued Ivan Dmitry at this moment, "here they will torture us to death! Oh, Lord! Is there really no hell in that world? Can the wicked go unpunished? Where is justice? Open the door, you evil spirits, I'm going to suffocate to death!" He shouted hoarsely: "Okay, I'll hit my head and bleed! You murderers!"

Nikita opened the door quickly, pushed Andrey Yefimitch roughly away with his hands and knees, then swung his arms and hit him in the face with his fist.Andrey Yefimitch felt a sea of ​​salty waves engulfing him headlong, rushing towards the bed, and his mouth really tasted salty: probably his teeth were bleeding.He seemed to be swimming out of the water, flailing his arms and grabbing someone's bed, when he felt two more punches from Nikita on the back. Ivan Dmitry screamed.He must have been beaten too. Then everything fell silent.Faint moonlight shone through the bars, casting shadows like nets on the floor.Terrible.Andrey Yefimitch lay down, held his breath, and waited in terror for another blow.It was as if someone took a sharp knife, pierced it into his flesh, and turned it around in the chest cavity and abdominal cavity several times.He bit the pillow in pain and gritted his teeth.Suddenly, a terrible and embarrassing thought flashed clearly in his chaotic mind: these people who are like ghosts under the moonlight at this moment must have endured such pain every day for decades.For more than twenty years he hadn't known about it, and didn't want to know—how could it be?He hadn't suffered, didn't even know what pain was, so he might be excused.However, the condemnation of conscience was as stubborn and ruthless as Nikita's, making him cold from head to toe.He jumped up, wanted to yell, ran quickly and killed Nikita, Hobotov, the Chief Bursar and the doctor, and then committed suicide, but there was not a sound from his chest, two Legs don't work either.Out of breath, he grabbed the robe and shirt on his chest and tore them apart.He fell on the bed, unconscious.