Chapter 2 Bishop II

two The next day, Easter Sunday, the bishop said mass in the cathedral of the town, then went to the diocesan bishop, went to the home of an old and sick general's wife, and finally returned home by car.At one o'clock distinguished guests came to dine in his house: his old mother and his niece Katya, a girl of eight years old.While eating lunch, the bright spring sun kept pouring in through the window, shining cheerfully on the white tablecloth and Katya's reddish-brown hair.Through the double windows one could hear rooks chattering in the garden and starlings singing. "We haven't seen each other for nine years," said the old mother. "I saw you yesterday in the convent, Lord! You haven't changed a bit, maybe you've only lost a little weight, and your beard has grown. Holy Mother, Holy Mother! Yesterday at Vespers, everyone couldn't help crying. I looked at you and suddenly wept, too, and I don't know why. It's the holy will of God!"

Although she spoke these words with affection, she could be seen feeling restrained, as if she didn't know whether to address him as "you" or "you", to laugh or not to laugh, as if she felt that she was not so much his mother. , rather a deacon's wife. Katya looked blankly at his uncle, His Excellency the Bishop, as if trying to figure out what kind of person he was.Her hair, tied with a velvet ribbon and a small comb in it, was combed up like a halo; she had a snub nose and a pair of mischievous eyes.Before she sat down to eat, she had broken a glass, and now her grandmother, as she spoke, removed now a teacup and now a wine glass from her face.The bishop listened to his mother's speech, recalling the past, many, many years ago, she took him, his brothers, and his sisters to the homes of relatives who she thought were wealthy. At that time, she was running for her children, and now Well, running around for the grandchildren again, no, here I am with Katya. ... "Your sister Varenka had four children," she said, "and this Katya is the oldest. God only knows how your brother-in-law, the Abbe Ivan, got sick and died three days before the feast of the Assumption." .My Varenka is going to beg for food now."

"How is Nicanor?" the bishop asked of his eldest brother. "It's okay, thank God. It's not very good, but thank God, you can get by. There is only one thing: his son, my grandson Nikolausa, didn't want to work in the church and joined the church. University, and become a doctor. He thinks it is good, but who knows if it is good! This is God's holy will." "Nikolasha disembowels the dead," said Katya, splashing water on his knees. "Good boy, sit down well," said grandma calmly, taking the glass from her hand. "Pray and eat."

"How long has it been since we saw each other!" said the Bishop, rubbing his mother's shoulder and hand tenderly. "Mom, I missed you when I was abroad, I missed you very much." "thank you." "In the evening I used to sit by an open window, alone, and when someone played music, I would suddenly be filled with homesickness, as if I could ask for nothing but to be home and to see you. Good...” Mother smiled slightly, her face beaming, but she immediately put on a serious face and said, “Thank you.” His mood suddenly changed somehow.He looked at his mother, wondering why her face and voice were respectful and timid, why, he did not recognize her.He was depressed and sad.In addition, his head hurts like yesterday, his legs are very sore, he feels that the fish is burnt and tasteless, and he always wants to drink water. ... After lunch two rich ladies arrived in a carriage, and the two landowners sat in silence for an hour and a half with sullen faces.Then the high priest of the monk came to contact the official business. This man was taciturn and a little deaf.Then the bells rang, and the call was made for vespers, and the sun went down behind the woods, and the day passed.The bishop came back from church, said a quick prayer, and then went to bed, covered with warmth.

He recalled the fish he ate for lunch with disgust.The moonlight disturbed his mind, and then the conversation came again.In the next room, probably in the living room, Father Sisoy was discussing politics: "The Japanese are at war now. They are fighting. Old lady, the Japanese are of the same race as the Montenegro. suppression." Then Marya Timofeyevna's voice came: "Later, you know, we prayed for a while, and after we had had enough tea, we got into a carriage and drove to Father Yegor in the village of Novkhatnoye. ,later……." "Enough tea" or "We've had enough" kept coming, as if all her life she'd known was tea.Slowly and languidly the bishop thought of madrassas and madrassas.He had been a teacher of Greek in a religious school for three years, when he could not read without his glasses, and then he was a monk and appointed superintendent.He then defended his thesis.When he was thirty-two years old, he was appointed as the headmaster of the religious school and was promoted to the monk high priest. At that time, his life was so relaxed and happy, and this life seemed to be going on for a long time, without end.But at that time he began to get sick, became thinner, and almost lost his eyesight, so he followed the doctor's instructions and had to abandon everything and go abroad.

"What happened next?" Sissoi asked in the next room. "Tea later..." Marya Timofeevna answered. "Father, you have a green beard!" Katya said suddenly in amazement, and laughed. The bishop smiled, remembering that the white-haired Abbe Sisoy did indeed have a greenish beard. "My God, this little girl is a pain!" Sisoy exclaimed, annoyed. "Get used to it! Sit down!" The bishop thought of a brand new white church in which he had worshiped when he lived abroad, and the splash of warm sea water.His house has five rooms, which are tall and bright, and there is a new writing desk in the study room with a collection of books.

He read a lot of books and often wrote articles. He also remembered how much he missed his hometown. A blind female beggar played the guitar and sang love songs under his window every day. He listened to this kind of song, and for some reason, every time he remembered the past.But eight years later, he was recalled to Russia, and now he is the assistant bishop, and all the past receded into the distance, hazy, like a dream. ... Father Sisoy came into the bedroom holding a candle. "Why," he said in amazement, "are you asleep, Bishop?" "What's wrong?" "It's still early, it's only ten o'clock, maybe it's not yet ten. I bought a candle today, and I want to rub you with candle oil."

"I have a fever . . . " said the bishop, sitting up. "Really, we should find a way to cure it. I feel bad in my head..." Sisoy took off the bishop's shirt and began to rub his chest and back with candle oil. "That will do, ... that will do, ..." he said. "Lord Jesus Christ. ...that's it.I took a walk into town today to see--what's his name? —Oh, High Priest Sidonsky. ... I drank tea with him. ……I do not like him!Lord Jesus Christ. ...that's it. ……dislike!