Chapter 7 a thousand and one passions, or nights of terror

A Thousand and One ①Passions, or Nights of Terror Chekhov A novel of only one volume with an epilogue dedicated to victor hugo In the tower of the one hundred and forty-six holy martyrs a chime bell strikes the hour of midnight.I trembled.Time is up.I hastily seized Theodore's hand, and walked with him into the street.The sky was as black as printing ink.It was as dark as the inside of the hats people wore around them.Night is like day in a walnut shell.We wrapped our cloaks tightly around us and set off.The wind ripped through our clothes.Rain and snow, two wet brethren, beat our faces like hell.Even though it was winter, lightning still streaked across the sky in all directions.The lightning was as captivating as the flickering sky-blue eyes, and as quick as thought, while its majestic companion, the thunder, shook the air menacingly.Theodore's ears were illuminated by lightning.St. Alma's Fire ② clattered and flew over our heads.I look up.I shivered.Who can not tremble before the grandeur of nature?Several brilliant meteors flew across the sky.I started counting meteors, and I counted twenty-eight in a row.I pointed to the meteor at Theodore. "Ominous omen!" he murmured, pale as a Kerala marble statue.The wind howled, howled, howled.

... The whining of the wind is no different from the whining of a conscience drowned in a heinous crime.An eight-story building next to us was struck by lightning and caught fire.I heard honks flying from the building.We ignored it and walked straight on.Since I have a hundred and fifty houses burning in my chest, how can I care about that house?A bell rang somewhere in the air, the tone was sad, slow, and monotonous.It's a fight of nature.Some mysterious force seemed to be at work to create this terrifying harmony of nature.Who are those forces?Will anyone understand them in the future?

This is a cowardly and pungent fantasy! ! ! We yell at ④.We got into the car and drove away.The coachman is the brother of the wind.Our carriages galloped on and on, like bold thoughts wandering in mysterious brains.I slipped a small bag of gold into the coachman's hand.Gold helps the whip to double the speed of the horse's legs. "Antonio, where are you taking me?" cried Theodore. "You look like a malevolent genius. . . . Your dark eyes glow with hell. . . . I'm scared. . . . " Poor coward!I said nothing.he loves her.She loves him passionately. ...I must kill him, because I love her more than my life.I love her and I hate him.He must die on this night of terror, and pay the death price for his love.Love and hate boiled in my heart.They are my second life.They are two sisters living in one shell and wreaking havoc: they are the spiritual Vandals.

"Stop!" I waited for the car to drive to the destination and said to the coachman.Theodore and I jumped out of the car.The moon looks at us coldly from the dark clouds.The moon is just and silent witness to the sweet hour of love and vengeance.One of us is dying, it must bear witness.There is an abyss before us, a bottomless pit like Danau's sinful daughter's bucket.We stand on the edge of a dying crater.There are terrible legends about this volcano.I moved my knees, and Theodore plunged headlong into a dreadful abyss.A crater is no different from the mouth of the land. "DAMN THING!!!" he yelled, answering my curse.A majestic and instructive picture of a strong man sending his enemies into the crater because of a woman's beautiful eyes!All that's missing is lava!

coachman.The coachman is a statue set by fate for ignorance.Down with stereotypes!The coachman followed Theodore into the abyss.I feel that nothing but love remains in my breast.I threw myself on the ground, facing the ground, and wept with joy.Tears of joy come from a divine response that takes place deep within a loving heart.The horse began to neigh merrily. How uncomfortable it is to be a horse instead of a man!I free them from the wretched life of beasts.I killed them.Death is both the bondage and the release from the bondage. I went into the Deep Purple Hippo Hotel and drank five mugs of fine wine.

Three hours after my revenge, I stood at the door of her house, and the friend of death helped me step over the corpse to her door.I start listening.She is not asleep.She is fantasizing.I listen.She didn't speak.Silence lasted four hours.People who are in love for four hours are tantamount to four thousand and nine hundred years!Finally she called the maid.The maid walked past me.I gave her a savage look.She catches my gaze.She suddenly became delirious.I kill her.Better to die than to live insane. "Anida!" she cried. "Why is Theodore not here? Grief bites my heart. A heavy premonition weighs on my breath. Ah, Aneda! Go to him. He must be with that godless, terrible man now." Antonio is drinking and having fun together! . . . God, who do I see?! It's Antonio!"

I have gone into her room.She was pale. ... "Get out!" she cried.Horror transfigured her noble, beautiful countenance. I look at her.Eyes are the sword of the soul.She swayed a little.She saw everything in my eyes: Theodore's death, demonic passions, a thousand human desires. ... I look majestic.Lightning flashed in my eyes.My hair moved one by one and stood on end.She saw a demon in human skin standing before her.I can see that she appreciates me.The grave silence and staring eyes lasted about four hours.Thunder rumbled, and she fell on my chest.A man's chest is a woman's fortress.I took her in my arms.We both shouted together.Her bones cracked.Electricity flows through our bodies.passionate kiss. ...she loves the demon in me.I want her to love the angels in me. "I'll distribute 1,500,000 francs to the poor!" I said.She fell in love with the angel in me and cried.I cry too.what tears! ! !A month later there was a solemn wedding in the Church of St. Chetus and Galtanzia.I marry her.she married me.The poor bless us!She asked me to forgive the enemies I had killed earlier.I forgive.I set out for America with my young wife.My loving young wife became an angel in the wild forests of America, and lions and tigers adored her.I am a young tiger.Three years after we got married, I was already leading a curly-haired little boy around in my old age.The little boy was born like his mother and not like me.This pissed me off.Yesterday my second son was born. . . . I was so happy that I hanged myself. ... My second little boy stretched out his little hand to readers, asking them not to believe his father's words, because his father not only has no children, but even no wife.His father was as afraid of marriage as he was of fire.My little boy didn't lie.He is a baby.You have to trust him.The age of a child is a sacred age.These things never happened. ……Good night.

***** ① means "very strong", because the Arabic works mean "countless nights". ② That is, a phenomenon of atmospheric charging in thunderstorms: light blue or reddish light appears on pointed objects, especially on the top of masts. ③The name of an Italian city, famous for its mining and processing of white marble, with a sculpture academy. ④The Russian pronunciation of the French "cocher", which means "coach driver". ⑤An ancient Germanic tribe invaded Rome in the fifth century and severely damaged it.Here is a metaphor for "destroyer".

⑥ According to Greek mythology, Danau, the king of Egos, had fifty daughters in total. They were instigated by their father and killed their husbands, so God ordered them to fill the bottomless bucket (called "Danao's daughter's bucket") . ——Russian text editor's note