Chapter 7 Fives

The next day Bazarov woke up earlier than anyone else, and after getting up he went for a walk outside. "Hey, this place isn't exactly beautiful," he thought, looking around.Nikolai Petrovich, after distributing the land to the peasants, was obliged to build his new house on four dessiatines of bare flat land.On the land he built housing and farm offices, created a garden, dug a pond and two wells.However, the newly planted saplings did not grow well, and the pond was not full of water and had a salty smell. Only the gazebo was lovely, it was densely covered with lilacs and acacias, so I sometimes drank tea and had meals in this gazebo.In a few minutes Bazarov walked all the paths of the garden, went to the barn and the stables, found the two boys of the servants, and immediately joined them, and went with them to a man who lived a verst from the house. Catch frogs in small swamps.

-------- ① One Russian mu is equal to 1.09 hectares. "What do you want a frog for, sir?" one of the boys asked him. "Let me tell you why," Bazarov replied.He has a special ability to make his servants trust, although he never accommodates them, his tone of speech is also lazy. "I dissected the frog to see what's inside it, because you and I are also frogs, we just walk on two legs. After seeing frogs, I know what's going on with our human body." "What do you do after you know?" "If you're sick, you can't make mistakes in your treatment."

"Are you the acting (doctor) doctor?" "Yes." "Little Vasya, did you hear that? The master said we are also frogs, how funny!" "I'm afraid of frogs," said little Vasya.He was a boy about seven years old, with flaxen-like white hair, wearing a jacket with a stand-up collar with iron buttons, and barefoot. "What's there to be afraid of? Could it bite people?" "Come on, get into the water, little philosophers," Bazarov urged them. At the same time Nikolai Petrovich was up.He went to Arkady, and seeing that Arkady was dressed, father and son went out together on the shaded porch.A large bouquet of lilacs stood on a table against the rail, and the samovar was boiling and steaming.A little girl walked up, the first girl who ran up the steps to meet the guests yesterday, and asked in a soft voice:

"Fyodosya Nikolaevna is not well enough to come. She sent me to ask, sir, will you serve the tea yourself? Or will you send Dunyasha to serve?" "I'll do it myself, myself," replied Nikolai Petrovich hastily. "You, Arkady, with whipped cream or with lemon?" "With fresh cream," answered Arkady.He was silent for a while, and said in a questioning tone, "Dad." Nikolai Petrovich looked at his son anxiously. "What do you want to say?" Arkady lowered his eyes. "Forgive me, Papa, if you think my question is out of place," he said, "but I want to be honest about your frankness yesterday... You won't be mad at me, will you?..."

"Say it!" "You gave me the courage to ask questions, Feido... Is it because I'm here that I don't come out to pour tea?" Nikolai Petrovich turned his head away. "Probably so," he replied hesitantly, "she thinks...she's ashamed..." Arkady cast a quick glance at his father. "She has no reason to be shy. On the one hand, you know what I think (Arkady takes great pleasure in saying those words), and on the other hand, don't I want to make a fuss about your life, your habits?" Even the slightest interference? Besides, I am absolutely sure that you will not make an improper choice. Since you allow her to be under the same roof with you, it proves that she is worthy of you. A son cannot be a judge to question his father, especially It is me, especially a father like you, who has never restricted my freedom."

Arkady's voice trembled a little when he began, because it seemed to him, though he was generous, that he was preaching to his father.Yet his words were earnest and touching, and the further they went on, the firmer and more fruitful their tone became. "Thank you, Arkady," replied Nikolai Petrovich in a low voice.He was running his fingers over his eyebrows and forehead again. "Your conjecture is correct. Of course, if she doesn't deserve it...it's definitely not my whim. I don't tell you that you understand that she is embarrassed to show up when you are there, especially on the first day after you get home."

"Then I will see her myself!" said Arkady with magnanimous enthusiasm, and he rose abruptly. "I will explain to her that there is no need to be ashamed in my presence." Nikolai Petrovich stood up and stopped him: "Arkady, wait a minute . . . how could . . . where she . . . I didn't..." But Arkady ran away from the loggia without hearing.Nikolai Petrovich glanced after him, sat down in shame, his heart was beating... Was he thinking that their relationship between father and son would be a strange one in the future; Arkady would respect him more if he kept his mouth shut; was he reproaching himself for his weakness? ——It’s hard to say.There are all kinds of emotions, but they are only sensations, and they are vague sensations.His face was still red, and his heart was pounding.

There was a sound of hurried footsteps, that was Arkady's return. "We've been introduced to each other, father!" His face was beaming, showing a kind and friendly expression. "Fedosya Nikolaevna is really not feeling well today, so she will come later. But why didn't you tell me that you have a younger brother? If I had known, I would have kissed him yesterday." , rather than waiting until today." Nikolai Petrovitch was about to say something, was about to open his arms to embrace him... Arkady had already put his arms around his neck. "What, hugging again?" came Pavel Petrovich's voice from behind them.

The father and son were delighted by his presence.There is often such a thing: the scene is exciting and touching, but it is better to end as soon as possible. "What's so strange?" said Nikolai Petrovich, laughing. "I've been waiting for Arkady for nearly a hundred years. . . . I haven't seen enough since I came back yesterday." "I'm not surprised at all," said Pavel Petrovich, "I don't even object to kissing him." Arkady went up to his uncle, and again touched his uncle's fragrant beard on his cheek.Pavel Petrovich sat down at the table.He wore an English morning coat and a fancy little Turkish cap.The pointed cap and the casually fastened tie signaled the laid-back freedom of country life, but the stubby shirt collar (not white but striped, to match the morning coat) still elegantly supported his shaved neck. Get a clean chin.

"Where is your new friend?" he asked Arkady. "He's not in the house. Usually he gets up early and goes out. Just leave him alone. He doesn't like politeness." "I think so." Pavel calmly buttered the bread. "Is he going to be here long?" "It depends. He came on his way back to see his father." "Where does his father live?" "He also lives in our province, eighty versts from here. He has a small estate there and used to be a doctor in the army." "Military doctor?... No wonder I'm always wondering: where did I hear that name. Bazarov?... Nikolai, do you remember that there was a Bazaar in our old father's division?" Rove's military doctor?"

"It seems that there is such a person." "That's right, the military doctor is his father. Well," Pavel Petrovich stroked his beard, "and what does Mr. Bazarov himself do?" he asked every word. "What kind of person is Bazarov?" Arkady smiled. "Uncle, do you want me to tell who he is?" "Tell me, nephew." "He's a nihilist." "What did you say?" asked Nikolai Petrovitch.And the knife that Pavel Petrovich had just picked up, with a piece of butter on the tip, remained in the air and did not move anymore. "He is a nihilist," Arkady went on. "Nihilist," Nikolai Petrovich pondered for a while, "this comes from the Latin word nihil, which, as I understand it, means nothing. So, the word is quoted in people, that is The kind of person who doesn’t approve of anything?” "You might as well say that the man doesn't care about anything," Pavel Petrovich added.He spread butter on the bread. "He sees everything critically," Arkady paraphrased their words. "Isn't that the same thing?" Pavel Petrovich asked. "No, it's not the same thing. A nihilist is someone who submits to no authority, who has no belief in any maxim, however respected it may be." "Is that all right?" Pavel Petrovich interrupted him. "There's a difference of opinion, Uncle. Some think it's good, some people think it's not." "That's right. Well, in my opinion, he is not of our kind. Our way of thinking is old-fashioned, thinking that there are no rules (Pavel Petrovich pronounces the word in French with the accent on the back, and Al Kadi on the contrary, put the stress on the first syllable according to the Russian pronunciation), without the code of faith as you say, it will be difficult to move and cannot survive. VousavezchangetoutCela①, God give you health and prosperity, we will Admiring you from the sidelines... what are they called?" -------- ①French: You have changed everything. "Nihilist," Arkady said clearly. "Yes, there were Hegelians, and now there are nihilists. I'd like to see how they survive in a vacuum without air. Now please ring the bell, brother, it's time for my cocoa .” Nikolai Petrovich immediately rang the bell, and at the same time called out: "Dunyasha!" But it was not Dunyasha who entered the loggia but Feodosya, a young woman with fair complexion , a head of black hair and a pair of black eyes, with childlike bright red plump lips and beautiful slender hands, wearing a clean cloth skirt, a new sky blue shawl covering her naked body shoulder.She put a mug of cocoa in front of Pavel Petrovich, and a cloud of peach blossomed involuntarily on her pretty face because of her shyness.She stood in front of the table with her eyes downcast, with her slender fingers resting on the edge of the table, as if she was embarrassed to deliver the cocoa personally this time, and felt that she deserved it. Pavel Petrovich raised his eyebrows to contain him, while Nikolai Petrovich looked embarrassed. "Hello, Fedosia," he said softly. "I wish you all the best," she answered, not loudly, but very clearly, and stole away from Arkady, who was smiling at her.She walked with a slight falter, but it was in keeping with her figure. For some time no one spoke in the loggia.Pavel Petrovich sipped his cocoa, looked up suddenly and said in a low voice: "Look, here comes Mister Nihilism." Sure enough, Bazarov was walking across the flowerbed from the end of the garden, his linen coat and trousers were covered with drips of mud, and his round cap was wrapped with weeds like a helmet.Holding a small bag in his hand (something was wriggling in it), he approached the loggia, nodded and said: "Gentlemen, please forgive me for being late for tea. I will come as soon as I go and arrange these prisoners first." "What is that, a leech?" Pavel Petrovich asked. "No, it's a frog." "Do you catch it and eat it or breed it?" "For the experiment," Bartorov said flatly, and went into the house. "He's going to dissect those frogs," said Pavel Petrovich. "He doesn't believe in rules, but in frogs." Arkady looked at his uncle with a look of regret, and Nikolai Petrovitch shrugged his shoulders slightly.Pavel Petrovitch, noticing that his humor was not working, turned to farming, and to the new steward, who had complained to him yesterday.Sue worker Fuma for being "lawless" and disobedient.He imitated the manager's original words: "That kid is like Aesop in the past. He made a public statement that he is not a bad guy, but, you can see, he will lose his temper and leave after a short stay."