Chapter 6 tolerance

tolerance The deputy magistrate of the court and the county physician went to the village of Surnia in a sleigh to conduct an autopsy.On the way they encountered a blizzard and circled for a long time. As a result, they did not arrive at their destination at noon as they had hoped, but at dusk, when it was already dark.They stopped for the night in a small wooden house of the Zemstvo.Here, in this small wooden house of the Zemstvo, happened to be the corpse, that of Lesnitsky, an insurance agent from the Zemstvo.This man came to the village of Surnia three days ago, took up residence in the Zemstvo hut, had a samovar brought, and quite unexpectedly shot himself.He took his life after putting all kinds of cold dishes on the table next to the samovar. This strange situation gave many people reason to suspect that it was a murder.That calls for an autopsy.

The doctor and the interrogating officer were shaking off the snow and stamping their feet in the front hall, and beside them stood the village policeman Ilya Loshazin, an old man with a small tin lamp in his hand, to illuminate them. Bright.There was a strong kerosene smell. "Who are you?" asked the doctor. "Patroller . . . " replied the village policeman. Even in the post office he signed: Patrolman. "Where are the witnesses?" "Probably out to tea, sir." To the right was a clean room, the "guest room," or the master's room, and to the left was a shed with a large stove and a raised bed.The Physician and Inquisitor, followed by the Country Policeman, holding the little lamp above his head, entered the clean room.Here on the floor lay a long body, lying motionless beside a table leg, covered with a white sheet.In the dim light of the little lamp a new pair of galoshes could be clearly seen besides the white drape.Everything here was eerie and uncomfortable to look at: the black walls, the silence, the galoshes, the motionless corpse.On the table was a samovar that had already cooled down, and around the samovar were some paper bags, probably containing cold dishes.

"How inhuman to shoot yourself in the Zemstvo hut!" said the doctor. "Since you intend to shoot a bullet into the forehead, you should do it in your own home, in a storage room." Still wearing his hat, fur coat, and felt boots, he sat down on a bench, and his traveling companion, the Inquisitor, sat down opposite him. "These hysterics and neurasthenics are complete egoists," went on the doctor distressedly. "If a neurasthenic lives in the same room as you, he rustles the newspaper; if he eats with you, he quarrels with his wife, without scruples about your presence; If he wanted to shoot himself, he would kill himself in the village, in the Zemstvo hut, in order to cause more trouble for everyone. These gentlemen, in all circumstances of life, only care about themselves. Only for themselves! Just because For this reason, old people do not like our 'nervous age' very much."

"There's a lot of things old people don't like," said the investigating officer, yawning. "You should point out to the old people the difference between the suicides of the past and the suicides of today. In the past, the so-called high-class people committed suicide because of embezzlement of public funds, but now, it is because they are tired of life and distressed. ...Which one is better? " "Tired of life and distressed, but you will agree that he could have killed himself in this log cabin of the Zemstvo." "It's bad luck," said the village policeman, "it's bad luck, it's just suffering. The people are very disturbed, sir, and they haven't been able to sleep for two nights. The children are crying.

It was time to milk the cows, but the women dared not go into the cowshed for fear. ... They were afraid that the master would appear in the dark.Of course, they're stupid bitches, but some men are afraid too.When it was dark, they dared not walk past the small wooden house alone, but always walked in groups.The same goes for witnesses. ... "Doctor Starchenko is a middle-aged man with a black beard and glasses. The interrogator Lei Ren has light blond hair. He is still young. He just graduated from university two years ago. A civil servant, rather a student. They both sat there, silent, brooding. They were annoyed at being so late. Now they had to wait until daybreak, and had to spend the night here, but it was only after five o'clock, Long evenings before them, and then long nights, boredom, uncomfortable beds, cockroaches, morning chill; and they both listened to the blizzard howling in attics and chimneys, and thought that all this had nothing to do with what they had hoped for and what had been before What a different life they had dreamed of, thinking how far apart they were from their contemporaries, who were now walking the brightly lit streets of the city, not noticing the bad weather, or preparing to go to the theater at this moment , or sit in the study and read. Ah, what are they willing to give now, just to walk around Nevsky Prospekt or Petrovka in Moscow, listen to the melodious singing, and sit in a restaurant for an hour or two It's an expensive price..." Woo-woo-woo-woo! "The blizzard is singing in the attic, and there's something viciously banging outside, probably the Zemstvo sign outside the log cabin door." Woo-woo-woo-woo! "

"You can do what you like, but I don't want to stay here," said Starchenko, standing up. "It's only past five o'clock, and it's too early to go to bed. I want to go out by car. Von Daunitz lives not far from here, only three versts from the village of Surnia. I want to go to him by car." Go home and spend the evening there. Policeman, tell the coachman not to unload the horse. How about you?" he asked Léjen. "I don't know. Probably lie down and sleep." The doctor wrapped his fur coat tightly around him and walked out.He could be heard talking to the coachman, and the bells on the necks of the frozen horses vibrated.He drove away.

"It is not right for you, sir, to spend the night here," said the village policeman. "Go to the room over there. It's not clean, but you can do it for a night. I'll go to the peasant's and get a samovar and light it, and then I'll spread you some hay, and you You can sleep well, sir." A little later the investigating officer was sitting at a table in the hut drinking tea, and the village policeman Loshazin was standing at the door talking.This is an old man in his sixties, not tall, very thin, a little hunchbacked, gray-haired, with a simple smile on his face, tears in his eyes, and he keeps smacking his mouth like he is eating candy of.He wears a short leather jacket, a pair of felt boots on his feet, and a walking stick never leaves his hand.The youth of the interrogating officer obviously aroused his pity, and it was probably for this reason that he spoke to the interrogating officer so affectionately.

"The mayor, Fyodor Makaritch, ordered me to report to the district police chief or the investigating officer as soon as he arrived," he said. It's four versts away from the village, and there's a blizzard, and it's snowing so hard, it probably won't be until midnight at the earliest. Listen, howling." "I don't need the mayor," Lei Ren said. "He has nothing to do here." He looked at the old man curiously and asked: "Tell me, sir, how many years have you been a country policeman?" "How many years? It's been thirty years. Five years after the emancipation of the serfs, I started working as an errand, so you count it. Since then, I've been on the road every day. People have holidays, and me, old man." It's running around. It's Easter outside, the church bell is ringing, Christ is risen, but I still go with a backpack. Now to the local treasury, now to the post office, now to the district police chief At home, now at the Zemstvo, now at the Tax Office, now at the Execution Office, now at the Landlord's, now at the Peasant's, at any rate I go to every Orthodox house Yes. I've got postal parcels, summonses, tax notices, letters, bills, forms. Yes, good lord, there's such a form these days, with numbers to fill in, yellow and white. , red, every lord, or priest, or well-to-do peasant has to fill out ten times a year: how much he has planted, how much he has harvested, how many stones or poods of rye, how much oats, how much hay, and Yes, you know, what's the weather like, and all kinds of bugs. Of course, you can write whatever you want, it's just business, but I have to run around, hand out forms, and then go back and forth. Run around and get the form back. For example, this gentleman here doesn't need to be disembowelled. You know that it's a waste of effort, but it's just getting your hands dirty, but you still have to work, sir, run to Come here, because this is a matter of rules and there is no way. I have walked for 30 years for these things of rules. It doesn’t matter in summer, it’s warm and dry, and it’s uncomfortable in winter or autumn. Some Sometimes I almost drowned, sometimes I almost froze, everything happened. Some bad guys took my backpack in the woods, some people beat me, I got a lawsuit. . . . ” “For what Sue?"

"For fraud." "How to cheat?" "Well, you know, the clerk Khrisanv Grigoriev sold other people's boards to the contractor; you know, he was cheating. I was also implicated in this case, because they Sent me to a restaurant to buy wine; in fact, the clerk didn't give me any money, and didn't even buy me a glass of wine, but I was poor, and people looked at me like this, and they thought I was probably unreliable and worthless and we were both taken to court. He was in jail, and I, God forbid, was acquitted and released. There was such a document read in court. They were all in uniform. I I mean the officers in the court. I tell you, sir, it's bad luck to have our job done by unaccustomed people, and it kills people, but I don't mind if I do it. If you don’t go out for a run, your legs will hurt instead. If you stay at home, it’s even worse for me. If you stay in the town hall and don’t go out, you have to light the fire, bring water to the secretary, and shine the leather shoes of the secretary.”

"How much salary do you earn?" Lei Ren asked. "Eighty-four rubles a year." "I'm afraid there's always some extra money. There's always something, isn't it?" "Where's the extra money! These days, gentlemen seldom reward money for wine. These days, gentlemen have become fierce, and they get angry at every turn. You send him documents, and he gets angry. You take off your hat in front of him, and he gets angry again." Angry. He said, 'You've come in the wrong door,' he said, 'You're a drunkard, and you smell like onions,' and he called you a fool, son of a bitch. Of course, there were good gentlemen too, but from them Where can I get any money? They just make fun of you, and call you all kinds of nicknames. For example, take Master Artuchin, he is very kind, he looks sober and sensible, but when he sees you I yelled, and he didn't know why. He called me a strange nickname. He said you..." The village policeman said a few words, but his voice was so low that he couldn't make out.

"What?" Ren Ren asked. "pardon." "Administrator!" repeated the village policeman loudly. "He's been calling me that for six years. Hello, administrator! But I don't care, let him call it, God bless him. Sometimes some lady orders me a drink, A small piece of pie, and I drink to her health. Most of the peasants will give me something, the peasants are good people, fearing God: some give a small piece of bread, some give a little cabbage Soup, some treats for you. The mayor always invites people to drink tea in the restaurant. Just now the witnesses also went out to drink tea. They said: "Loshazin, you stay here and watch for us. ' Each of them gave me a kopeck.They are not used to it, they are afraid.Yesterday they also gave me fifteen kopeks and offered me a drink. " "Could it be that you are not afraid?" "Afraid, sir, but you know, it's my job, my job, so I can't get away with it. I took a convict into town this summer, and he beat me up. How ruthless! how ruthless! There are fields and woods all around, where can you hide? It's the same in this case. This master Lesnitsky, I remember how he looked when he was so tall, I know his father, and I know his mother. I am from the village of Nedoshotova. Master Lesnitsky's house is only a mile or even less than a mile from us. Our two fields are close to each other. Master Lesnitsky has a sister, an old maid, God-fearing, kind-hearted. Lord, rest the soul of your slave Yulia, and let her live forever! She was unmarried, and she died All her property was divided, one hundred dessiatines to the monastery, two hundred dessiatins to us, the peasants of the Nedoshotova commune, in honor of her soul, but her brother, the gentleman , but hid that piece of paper, and it is said that it was burned in the furnace and took all the land. You know, he thought it was good for him, but, no, you just wait, in You can't live long in this world relying on deceit. Then the gentleman didn't go to the priest for twenty years to confess, you know, he didn't enter the church door, and he didn't confess when he died. It was broken. He was very fat. His stomach burst all at once. Then the young master, that is, Seryozha, owed a debt, and all his property was taken away to pay off the debt, and he took as much as he had. , there is nothing left. He is not very educated, and he can't do anything. His uncle is the chairman of the executive branch of the Zemstvo, and he thought to himself: "Get him, Seryozha, and come to me as an agent. People, let him be an insurance agent, this job is relatively simple. ’ But Young Master’s temper is high, and he also wants to live in style, pomp, and freedom, so, you know, if you want him to run around the county in a broken scooter and talk to peasants, he will I feel sick; he walks up and down, looking at the ground, looking and looking, without saying a word; you call in his ear: "Sergey Sergeyitch!" he He turned around and said, "Huh? ' Then he looked at the ground again.And now, lo and behold, he killed himself with his own hands.It's unseemly, my lord, it's not right.No one understands what is going on in this world, merciful Lord.Of course, your father is rich, and you are poor, and you feel sad, but what can you do, you have to make do with it.I used to live well too, my lord. I had two horses, three cows, and twenty sheep, but at the end I only had one backpack, and even this backpack was not mine, it belonged to the public.Now in our village of Nedoshotova, to be honest, my house is the worst.Mokai had used four footmen, and now Mokai was acting as a footman himself.Petrarch originally had four farmhands, and now Petrarch himself became a farmhand. " "Then how did you come to be poor?" asked the inquisitor. "My sons are drinking like hell. It's impossible to describe the way they drink, and you won't believe it." Leiren listened and thought: he, Leiren, will return to Moscow sooner or later, but this old man will stay here forever, always running around.In his life, he, Leiren, would meet many such "good-for-nothing" old people who were dressed in rags and hadn't combed their hair for a long time. In the hearts of such people, a fifteen-kopeck coin and a small glass of wine And a deep belief that you can't get by in this world by falsification, somehow go hand in hand.Later, Lei Ren got tired of hearing it, so he ordered hay to make the bed.There was an iron bed in the guest room, with pillows and quilts on it. The bed could have been brought here, but the dead man had been lying on the side of the bed for almost three days (he may have sat on it before he died), and now It would be uncomfortable to sleep on that bed. ... "It's only half past seven," Lei Ren looked at his watch and thought to himself. "How terrible it is!" He wasn't sleepy, but he had nothing to do to pass the time, so he lay down and covered himself with a blanket.Loshazin packed the tea sets, ran in and out several times, clicked his lips, sighed constantly, kept walking around the table, and finally walked out with his little lamp, Lei Ren looked at him from behind. With long and white hair and a stooped body, I thought to myself: "Like a magician in an opera." It was getting dark.Probably the moon was hidden behind the clouds, because the snow on the window and frame could be seen clearly. "Woo-oo-oo!" sang Blizzard. "Woo-woo-woo!" "O-Jesus!" wailed a woman in the attic, or so it sounded. "My-of-old-god-lord!" "Bang!" Something outside knocked on the wall. "Wow!" Listen carefully, the inquisitor: there is no woman at all, the wind is howling. He felt cold, so he put his fur coat over the blanket.Gradually he warmed up and thought: all this, the snowstorm, the cabin, the old man, the corpse lying in the next room, how far away it was from the life he wanted to live, how much it meant to him. Strange, insignificant, and uninteresting.If the man had committed suicide in Moscow or somewhere near Moscow, and an interrogation had to be carried out, it would be interesting and significant, and perhaps even frightening to sleep in the room next to the corpse; but here, in this A thousand versts away from Moscow, all this seems to have changed, all this is not life, not human beings, but something that exists "by the rules", as Losazin says Well, all of this will not leave even a trace in his memory, and he will forget it as soon as he leaves Suirnia Village by car.The motherland, the real Russia, is Moscow, Petersburg, and here is the hinterland, the colony of immigrants.Whenever you are eager to show your talents and become famous in the world, such as being an investigator specializing in particularly important cases or a district court prosecutor, or being a high-society socialite, then you will definitely think of Moscow.If you want to live, it's in Moscow, and here you want nothing, it's easy to resign yourself to being an unknown character, you want only one thing in life, and that is to get away as soon as possible.So Leiren imagined that he was running around in the streets of Moscow, visiting acquaintances' homes, meeting relatives and classmates. He thought that he was only twenty-six years old now, and that even if it was five or ten years before he could leave this place and go to Moscow, it would not be too late, and a whole life was still waiting for him, and his heart twitched sweetly. tight.When his thoughts began to get confused and he gradually fell into a state of stupor, he imagined the promenade in the Moscow courthouse, imagined himself standing up to speak, imagined his sisters, imagined a band that was always so loud for some reason :"Ohh Ohh ohh!" "Bang! Crash!" the voice sounded again. "boom!" He suddenly remembered talking to an accountant in the Zemstvo administration once, and a thin, pale gentleman approached the desk.The man had dark eyes, black hair, and the unpleasant look of someone who sleeps too long after lunch, which spoiled his delicate, intelligent features.The high boots he was wearing did not suit him, they looked rough."This is our Zemstvo insurance agent," said the accountant. "It turns out that he is Lesnitsky...that's him..." Leiren understood now. He recalled Lesnitsky's low voice, imagined his way of walking, and felt as if someone beside him was walking in Lesnitsky's gait. He suddenly became afraid, and his heart went cold. "Who is it?" he asked in horror. "Patrol." "What are you doing here?" "I, sir, have come to ask. You said just now that there is no need for the mayor, but I fear he may be angry. He told me to go. Would you like to go?" "Go away! I'm bored..." Lei Ren said angrily, and covered the blanket again. "He may be angry. . . . I'm going, sir, and I hope you sleep well here." Loshazin went out.There were coughs and whispers in the hall. Presumably the witnesses returned. "Let these poor people go early tomorrow..." thought the interrogating officer. "As soon as the sun rises, we will start the autopsy." He had just fallen asleep when someone's footsteps suddenly sounded again, but the footsteps were not timid, but urgent and loud.There was a slam of the door, then voices, and the sound of a match being struck. ... "Are you asleep? Are you asleep?" asked the physician Starchenko hastily and angrily, striking matches one after another. His whole body was covered with snow, and a chill came out of him. "Are you asleep? Get up, and we will go to von Daunitz's. He has sent a carriage to fetch you. Come on, and there you can at least eat your dinner and sleep like a human being. You see, I've come to fetch you myself.The horse is a good horse, and we shall be there in twenty minutes. " "What time is it now?" "A quarter past ten." Lei Ren was drowsy and unhappy, so he put on felt boots, a fur coat, a fur cap, and a snow cap with long ears, and went outside with the doctor.The bitter cold was over, but the wind was blowing bitterly, and the snowflakes were blowing up the streets in strands that seemed to be running away in fright.There were tall snowdrifts beside the fence and on the steps. The doctor and the inquisitor got into the sleigh, and the driver, all in white, bent down to fasten the blanket for them.Both of them felt warm. "Let's go!" They rode through the village on a sled. "'Dig the soft furrows,'④..." thought the interrogator lazily, watching how the harnessed horse moved on all fours.All the cabins were lit, as if it were the eve of a great festival: the peasants were awake, afraid of the dead man.The coachman remained gloomyly silent: probably when he was standing at the door of the Zemstvo hut, he got tired of waiting, and now he is thinking about the dead man. "At the Daunitz's just now," said Starchenko, "they all blamed me for not taking you with them when they heard that you had stayed overnight in this cabin." At the corner of the village entrance, the coachman suddenly yelled loudly: "Get out of the way!" A man passed by, had turned away from the road, and was standing knee-deep in the snow, looking at the three-horse sleigh; the interrogating officer saw a crutch, a beard, and a The bag around his waist, he felt that this person seemed to be Luo Shazin, and even felt that he was smiling.The man flickered for a moment and then disappeared. The road stretched along the edge of the woods at first, and then became a wide forest passage.Before their eyes flashed old pines, a grove of young birches, tall, gnarled, young oaks standing alone in a clearing not long ago cleared, but soon Everything is in the air, mixed together in the snow fog.The coachman said he saw a wood, but the inquisitor could see nothing but the horse drawn by the harness.The wind blows against their backs. Suddenly the horse stopped. "Hey, what's the matter?" Starchenko asked angrily. Without saying a word, the driver got down from the driver's seat and began to run quickly around the sledge, making wider and wider circles and getting farther and farther away from the sledge, as if he were dancing, and at last he ran back, Get on the sled and turn right. "Lost or something?" Starchenko asked. "nothing.……" They came to a small village where there was no light at all.Again woods, fields, lost again, so the driver jumped out of the sleigh and danced.The three-horse sleigh was galloping along a dark avenue, at a fast pace, the fierce bridle horse bumping against the front of the sled.Here the trees roared, the noise was frightening, and it was so dark that the sleigh seemed to be rushing into an abyss.All of a sudden, bright lights from the door and windows shone into people's eyes, and the well-intentioned, ups and downs of dogs barking and people's voices sounded. ...they have arrived. They took off their fur coats and felt boots in the vestibule, and upstairs someone was playing the piano, Un petit verre de Cliquot, and the children could be heard stamping their feet.The visitor felt at once the warm atmosphere so often found in old landed houses, where one lived warmly, cleanly and comfortably, no matter what the weather was like outside. "That's all right," said von Daunitz, a stout man with an astonishingly thick neck and sideburns, shaking the hand of the interrogating officer. "That's good. Welcome, welcome, it's a pleasure to meet you. You know, you and I are kind of colleagues. I used to be a deputy attorney general, but it was not long, only two years in total, and then I came here to take care of Housework, growing old here. In a word, old fellow. Welcome," he went on, evidently lowering his voice so as not to speak too loudly; and he went upstairs with his guests. "My wife is gone, dead. Let me introduce, these are my daughters." After finishing speaking, he turned and shouted downstairs: "Command Ignat, at eight o'clock tomorrow morning Get the sled ready before!" His four daughters were in the hall, young girls, pretty, all in gray dresses, with their hair combed the same way, and their cousin, also young and charming, with several children.Starchenko had already known them, so he immediately asked them to sing a song. Two young ladies kept saying that they couldn't sing, and they didn't have music scores. Sang the duet from "The Queen of Spades" with trembling voices. "Un petit verre de Cliquot" was played again, and the children jumped up and down, stamping their feet to time.Starchenko followed suit.Everyone laughed. Then the children said goodnight and went to bed.The inquisitor laughed, danced the quadrille, courted the ladies, and thought to himself: Could this be a dream? It used to be a small hut in the Zemstvo cabin, with a pile of hay in the corner, the rustling of cockroaches, the disgusting poverty, the voices of witnesses, the wind, the snowstorm, the danger of getting lost, but all of a sudden there were these bright lights. , gorgeous room, the sound of the piano, the beautiful girl, the curly-haired child, the joyful and happy laughter, this transformation seemed to him like a myth; It happened in less than an hour, it's unbelievable.Dull thoughts prevented him from being happy, and he kept thinking that life in these parts of the world was not life at all, but fragments of life, and that everything here was accidental, from which no conclusions could be drawn; he even I feel sorry for those girls, they lived here, in the backcountry, in the hinterland far from the cultural center, and they ended their lives here in the future, but in the cultural center, nothing is accidental, everything is understandable, everything is It is reasonable, for example, that any suicide is easy to understand, why it happened, and what its significance in the general course of life can be explained.He thinks that if the life around here in the backcountry is beyond his comprehension, if he cannot see life, it means that there is no life here at all. At dinner everyone talked about Lesnitsky. "He leaves behind his wife and a child," Starchenko said. "If I could decide, I would prohibit people with neurasthenia from marrying people with normal nervous systems, and I would deprive them of the right and conditions to reproduce their kind. It is a crime in the world to give birth to some children with neurological diseases .” "This is an unfortunate young man," said von Daunitz, sighing softly and shaking his head. "What much thought and what pain a man has to go through before he finally makes up his mind to take his own life, . . . young life. Tragedy like this can happen to any family, and it's scary.This kind of thing is unbearable, embarrassing. ..." All the girls listened silently, looking at their father with serious faces. Leiren felt that he had to say a few words, but he couldn't think of anything to say, so he just said: "By the way, suicide is a bad phenomenon. " He slept in a warm room, on a soft bed, covered with a quilt and a freshly laundered muslin sheet, but for some reason he did not feel comfortable; Von Daunitz was talking for a long time in the adjoining room, while above, above the ceiling, in the chimney, the blizzard was as noisy as in the Zemstvo hut, and wailing as mournfully: "Woo-oo- Woo!" Daunitz's wife died two years ago, and he still can't forget it; no matter what he said, he would mention his wife every time. In him, the shadow of the prosecutor was gone. "Could it be that I will get to this point in the future?" Lei Ren thought, hearing his low, orphan-like voice through the wall, and fell asleep. The inquisitor was restless in his sleep.The room was hot and uncomfortable, and in his sleep he felt that he was not in Daunitz's house, lying on a soft, clean bed, but still in the Zemstvo cabin on a pile of hay , listening to the witnesses speak in low voices.It seemed to him that Lesnitsky was not far away, fifteen paces away.In his sleep he remembered how the Zemstvo insurance agent, the dark-haired, white-faced man in dusty high boots, had come to the accountant's desk. "This is an insurance agent from our Zemstvo. . . . " Then he dreamed that in the fields, in the snow, Lesnitsky and the village policeman Loshazin seemed to be walking side by side, supporting each other, in a blizzard. Flying over their heads, with the wind blowing their backs, they sang as they walked, "We go, go, go, go." The old man was like a magician in an opera, and the two were indeed singing, as if in a theater: "Let's go, go, go, go. . . . You're warm there, you're bright, you're comfortable. , but we are running in the severe cold, in the blizzard, and in the deep snow... We have never had peace, we have never had joy. …We carry the full weight of our lives and yours. ... Woo-woo-woo!Let's go, let's go, go, go. ..." Leiren woke up and sat up on the bed. What a chaotic nightmare! How could he dream that an insurance agent was with a village policeman? What absurdity! At this moment Leiren's heart was beating wildly , he sat on the bed, put his head in his hands, and felt that the insurance agent and the country policeman had something in common in their lives. Aren't they just walking side by side in life, supporting each other?There is an invisible, yet meaningful, necessary connection between these two people, even between them and Daunitz, between all people, and between people of all kinds. .In life, even in the wildest backwoods, nothing is accidental, everything is filled with one thought in common, everything has one soul, one purpose, and to understand this, it takes more than just thinking Not enough, not just inference, probably also requires a kind of insight into life, and this ability is obviously not available to everyone.Only a man who regards his own existence as an accident would think that the unfortunate, heartbroken, suicidal man whom the doctor calls a "neurasthenic" and the old farmer who spent his whole life on the move, Accidents, fragments of life; and he who sees his life as a part of a whole organism, and who understands this, considers himself part of this wonderful and rational whole.Lei Ren thought this way, it was a thought that had been deeply hidden in his heart long ago, and it was only now that it fully and clearly appeared in his consciousness. He lay down and began to fall asleep; suddenly, he dreamed that they were walking together, singing: "We go on, and on, and on, and on. . . .而把轻快和欢乐留给你们，让你们在坐下来吃晚饭的时候可以冷静而头头是道地议论为什么我们受苦和死亡，为什么我们不象你们那么健康和满足。” 他们歌唱的内容也是以前他想到过的，不过这个思想在他的头脑里不知怎的总是隐藏在别的思想背后，胆怯地闪现一下，好比大雾天气里远处的一个灯火。他感到他对这桩自杀案和那个农民的痛苦负有责任。这些人顺从自己的命运，承受生活中最沉重最黑暗的一切，而我们却熟视无睹，这是多么可怕呀！一方面对这些熟视无睹，一方面又巴望自己在幸福满足的人们当中过一种光明而热闹的生活，不断地渴望这样的生活，这就无异于渴望新的自杀案，渴望那些被劳动和烦恼压倒的人或者那些软弱而被抛弃的人一个个地自杀。关于他们，人们只有偶尔在晚饭桌上谈起，有的人心烦，有的人讥诮，可就是没有一个人去帮助他们。……接着，又唱起来：“我们往前走，走啊走，走啊走。……”仿佛有个什么人用小锤子敲他的太阳穴似的。 一清早他就给嘈杂声惊醒了，头很痛；隔壁房间里，冯·达乌尼茨正在大声对医师说：“您现在不能走。您看看外面是什么样子！您不要争了，最好去问一问车夫吧：这样的天气就是给他一百万，他也不肯送您走。” “可是只有三俄里路啊，”医师用恳求的声调说。 “哪怕半俄里也不行。说不行就是不行。您坐上车子，一出大门，就是漆黑的地狱，不出一分钟就会迷路。随您怎么样，反正我无论如何也不放您走。” “这场暴风雪到傍晚大概就停了，”一个正在生炉子的农民说。 医师在隔壁房间里开始讲到严峻的自然环境对俄罗斯人的性格的影响，讲到漫长的冬季限制活动的自由，阻碍人们智力的发展。雷仁烦躁地听着这些议论，瞧着窗外在围墙那边积起的雪堆，瞧着布满整个肉眼看得见的空间的白色雪尘，瞧着那些时而拼命向右弯、时而向左弯的树木，听着风的呼啸和砰砰的响声，阴郁地想：“哎，从这种天气哪儿引得出什么大道理来呢？暴风雪就是暴风雪，如此而已。……”中午他们吃早饭，然后在这所房子里毫无目的地走来走去。他们站在窗前。 “列斯尼茨基还躺在那边呢，”雷仁暗想，瞧着旋风卷起的雪尘在雪堆上发狂般地打转。“列斯尼茨基还躺在那边，证人也在等着呢。……”大家谈到天气，谈到暴风雪照例只闹两天两夜就停了，很少超过两天。六点钟大家吃午饭，然后打牌，唱歌，跳舞，最后吃晚饭。这一天过去了，他们上床睡觉。 夜间，将近黎明，风雪停了。早晨人们起床，看着窗外，光秃的柳树立在那儿一动也不动，枝子衰弱地搭拉下来，天色阴沉，没有一丝风，仿佛大自然在为自己的胡闹羞愧，在为那些疯狂的夜晚，为了放纵自己的感情而羞愧似的。从早晨五点钟起，车子已经套上马，马儿排成纵列，站在台阶边等待着。等到天色大亮，医师和侦讯官就穿上皮大衣和毡靴，跟主人告别，走出来。 在台阶旁边，跟车夫并排站着的是那个熟悉的“巡警”伊里亚·洛沙津，他没戴帽子，肩上斜挂着一个旧皮包，周身是雪，脸孔通红，汗水淋淋。一个听差走出来要扶客人上雪橇，给他们盖腿，他严厉地瞧着洛沙津，说：“你站在这儿干什么，老鬼？走开！” “老爷，老百姓心里不踏实，……”洛沙津说，满脸洋溢着纯朴的笑容，他终于看到他等了那么久的客人，分明很满意。 “老百姓心里很不踏实，孩子们哇哇地哭。……他们以为你们又回城里去了。……发发慈悲吧，我们的恩人。……”医师和侦讯官什么话也没有说，坐上雪橇，到绥尔尼亚村去了。 "Notes" ①指一八六一年俄国废除农奴制。 ②指俄石，旧时俄国容量。散体物：１俄石等于２０９。９１升；液体：１俄石等于３。０８升。 ③谢尔盖的小名。 ④引自普希金的长诗《叶甫盖尼·奥涅金》第五章，第二节.——俄文本编者注 ⑤法语：《一小杯柯里科酒》。