Chapter 26 twenty four

Two hours later he knocked on Bazarov's door. "I apologize for interrupting your scientific work," he said, sitting on a stool by the window, his hands resting on his ivory-headed cane (he usually walks without it), "but I am compelled to ask you to Five minutes of my time...no more." "I am at your service all the time," replied Bazarov.When Pavel Petrovich stepped through the door, an indescribable shadow passed over his face. "Five minutes is all I need. I'm here to ask a question." "Question? About what?" "Listen to my statement. When you first came to my brother's house I never gave up the honor of talking to you, and listened to your opinion on many things, but, as far as I can remember, neither between us nor in my presence , the subject has never been of a duel. Allow me to give you your general opinion on the matter."

Bazarov, who should have been standing to meet Pavel Petrovich, sat down on the corner of the table and folded his arms. "My point is," he replied, "that theoretically it is one thing." "That is to say, if I understand you correctly, whatever the theoretical attitude to dueling, in practice you never allow insults to you unless someone else pleases you?" "You guessed exactly what I was thinking." "Very well, sir, I am very pleased to hear that from you, which saves me from all guesswork..." "You mean to say: the hesitation is eliminated."

"Anyway, sir. I just hope you understand. I... am not a fool. Your words have saved me from unpleasant actions. I have decided: I will fight you." Bazarov stared wide-eyed. "With me?" "It's up to you." "Dare to ask: for what?" "I could have told you why," said Pavel Petrovich, "but I think it would be better to keep my mouth shut. You are not on good terms with me, you are superfluous here, I cannot bear it, I despise you, if all this not enough……" Pavel Petrovich had a fierce look in his eyes... and so did Bazarov. "Very well, sir," said Bazarov, "no further explanation is needed. You suddenly want to try your chivalry on me, and I might as well not give you this pleasure, but let it be Do what you say!"

"Thanks a lot," said Pavel Petrovich, "I was able to fulfill my wish and accept my challenge without my drastic measures." "If you don't use metaphors, that is, with this cane?" Bazarov asked, "that's exactly right, you don't have to insult me ​​in this way, it's not without danger, you can keep your gentlemanly demeanor... I also accept your challenge in a gentlemanly manner." "Very well," said Pavel Petrovitch, putting his stick in the corner. "Now let's talk about the conditions of our duel. However, I would like to know your opinion first. Do you think there will be a formal quarrel as an excuse for my challenge?"

"No, unnecessary formality can be dispensed with." "I think so too, and I don't think it is necessary to explain the reasons for our conflict. We are incompatible, do we need to say more?" "Is there any need to say more?" Bazarov responded with the same words in a mocking tone. "As for the exact terms of the duel, since there is no notary—where can I find one?" "Yes, where can I find it?" "I therefore have the honor to propose to your Excellency the following: The duel will take place early tomorrow morning, for example, at six o'clock, behind a grove, with pistols, at a distance of ten paces..."

"Ten steps? Such a distance can't kill anyone, it can only leave grudges." "Eight steps, too," Pavel Petrovich corrected. "Yes, why not!" "Each person shoots twice, and each person prepares a suicide note in their pocket to avoid tongue-in-cheek, just say it's their own fault." "I don't quite agree with this one," said Bazarov, "it's a bit like a French novel, it's not real." "Probably so. But do you agree that it is unpleasant to be suspected of murder?" "Agreed. There is, however, a way of avoiding such pathetic accusations, without a notary, but with eyewitnesses."

"Who is it, dare to ask?" "Peter." "Which Peter?" "Your brother's follower. He stands at the pinnacle of modern civilization, and under these circumstances he will do his best." -------- ①French pronunciation, meaning: as...as it should be. "I think you are joking, my dear sir." "Ah, no, if you think about it carefully, you will know that my suggestion is simple and reasonable. Anyway, paper can't cover fire, and Peter, I can give him the necessary enlightenment, and then take him to the duel location. .” "You're still joking," said Pavel Petrovich, rising. "After your generous promise, there will be no more requests. . . so everything is settled. . . . By the way: you don't have a pistol?"

"Where did I get the pistol, Pavel Petrovitch? I'm not a soldier." "Well, that's good enough for me. You can rest assured that I haven't shot a pistol in five years." "That's reassuring news." Pavel Petrovich took up his cane... "Now, dear sir, all I have left is to thank you, and I will not disturb your scientific research work any more. I would like to bid you farewell." "Looking forward to a pleasant meeting, my dear sir," said Bazarov, seeing off his guests. Pavel Petrovitch was gone, and Bazarov was standing at the door, when suddenly he cried out: "Pooh, hell! How elegant, how stupid! We danced like a trained dog on its hind feet, and performed a show." It's a comedy! But it's impossible to refuse. If he refuses, he can use his cane, and then I... (Bazarov turns pale at the thought, and his pride makes him angry) Then I was like You have to strangle him like a dog!" He returned to the microscope, but he couldn't feel at ease, and the peace of mind necessary for observation had been broken... "I must have seen it today," he thought, "but, Is it just to protect his brother? What's the big deal about kissing? No, there is no reason. Could it be that he fell in love with himself? Of course, he fell in love, it's obvious. It's messed up!... Terrible!" He analyzed them one by one, "No matter how you look at it, it's bad. First, you have to stick your head out to take the bullet, and you have to go away if you don't die. However, how to Arkady ... and to that honest man Nicholas?" Confessions from La Petrovich? Bad! Bad!"

It was a very quiet and gloomy day.Feodosya seemed not to exist in the world, and she sat in her room all day long like a mouse hiding in a burrow.Nikolai Petrovich, grimacing, was told that the wheat on which he had placed so much hope was afflicted with smut.Pavel Petrovich's refined, icy demeanor oppressed the whole family, including the old servant Prokofiitch.Bazarov was about to write a letter to his father, but at the beginning he tore up the paper and threw it under the table.He thought, "If I'm really dead, they'll know anyway. Besides, I can't die. No, I still have to live!" He asked Peter to come and serve at dawn tomorrow, because there was something urgent to do.After hearing this, Peter secretly guessed: Maybe he was going to take him to Petersburg.Bazarov went to bed very late, and spent the whole night dreaming wildly... Odintsova was circling in front of him, and she was his mother; behind her was the black-bearded cat, and the cat was Fedo. Thea; Pavel Petrovich was imagined as a dark forest, but he was still to be dueled.At four o'clock Peter called him, and he dressed at once and went out.

It's a cool, beautiful morning.Pieces of colorful clouds wander in the pale sky like a flock of lambs.Bits of morning dew scattered on the branches, grass tips and spider webs, shining with silvery white light.The wet, dark earth still retains the pink marks of the morning glow.The sky is full of larks singing.Bazarov found a shady place by the edge of the grove and sat down, and then explained to Peter what he should do.The well-bred servant almost fainted from fright, but Bazarov reassured him in time that he had nothing to do with it, and that he had only to stand and watch from a distance, and he would not bear any responsibility. "But," Bazarov said, "think about how important the role you play is!" Peter spread his hands, lowered his eyes, and leaned against the birch tree, his face turning blue.

The road from the village of Marino had to go around the woods, and at this time the road was covered with a thin layer of dust, untrodden and run over by wheels.Bazarov looked at the winding path from time to time.With a piece of grass he pulled out in his mouth, his heart was spinning: "Do such a stupid thing!" The cold in the morning couldn't help but made him shiver twice... Peter looked at him sadly from the side, but he just smiled : I'm not afraid! There was a sound of hooves on the road... A peasant appeared from behind the bushes, and he drove past Bazarov with two tied horses.She glanced at him curiously as she passed, but did not take off her hat.For this reason, Peter became angry, thinking that this was a bad omen.But Bazarov thought: "He got up so early because he had something to do, but what about us?" "It looks like the Grand Master is coming," whispered Peter. Bazarov raised his eyes and saw Pavel Petrovich, wearing a thin checked jacket, a pair of white trousers, tucked in a green baize box, coming in a hurry. "Excuse me, I must have kept you waiting," he said, bowing first to Bazarov and then to Peter, who at this moment was to be respected as a notary. "I don't want to wake my valet." "It doesn't matter, we have just arrived," Bazarov replied. "Ah, that would be best," Pavel Petrovich looked around, "no one in sight, and no one in our way... Shall we begin?" "let's start." "I suppose you don't need a new explanation?" "unnecessary." "Would you like to load it?" Pavel Petrovitch asked, taking two pistols from the box. "No, you load the bullet, I'll measure your steps." Bazarov then smiled and added: "My legs are long. One, two, three..." Peter was shaking like a fever, and he stammered: "Evgeny Vasilyitch, I'm going anyway." "Four...five...you go away Come on, brother, you can go away, you can even stand behind a tree, cover your ears, but keep your eyes closed, if someone falls, you run to help, six...seven...eight..." Bazaar Rove stopped his feet. "Is it enough?" He asked Pavel Petrovich, "Or, two more steps?" "All right," replied the latter, who was loading a second cartridge. "Okay, let's add two more steps." Bazarov took two more steps and drew a line on the ground with his toes. "This is the boundary line. By the way, we both took a few steps back from our own boundary line." What? This important issue was not discussed yesterday." "I suggest you take ten steps back," replied Pavel Petrovich, handing Bazarov two guns. "I beg you to choose." "I respectfully obey, but you, Pavel Petrovitch, don't you think our duel is so unusual and ridiculous? Just look at the face of our notary." "You're a real joker," replied Pavel Petrovitch. "I don't disagree with you that our duel is indeed a bit strange and unusual, but it is my duty to remind you that I take it seriously. Abonentendeur, salut!" "Oh, I have no doubts, we are here to fight, but why not utiledulci? Well, you speak French to me, and I speak Latin to you." -------- ①French: Ming people don’t need to say much. ②Latin: Blend the useful with the pleasant. "I'm serious about fighting," Pavel Petrovich said again.He walked to his place.Bazarov also stood on his side, ten paces from the boundary line. "Are you ready?" Pavel Petrovich asked. "everything's ready." "Then we can get closer to each other." Bazarov walked forward slowly.Pavel Petrovich put his left hand in his trouser pocket, slowly raised the gun with his right hand, aimed the muzzle at the opponent, and walked towards him... "He's aiming at my nose," Bazarov thought to himself, "why not?" Squeeze your eyes seriously, this robber! It’s not pleasant to feel this way to me. Let me aim at the watch chain on his chest..." With a swipe, something brushed against Bazarov’s ear, and at the same time a voice rang out. There was a shot. "I heard it, that means it's all right," the thought flashed in his mind.He took a step closer and pulled the trigger without aiming. Pavel Petrovich trembled slightly, put his hands on his thighs, and the blood flowed down the white trousers. Bazarov threw away his pistol and ran towards the enemy. "Are you hurt?" he asked. "You have the right to ask me to go closer to the line," said Pavel Petrovich, out of breath. "This is an insignificant injury. According to the regulations, both sides are entitled to one more shot." "Oh, I'm sorry, let's put that aside for later," said Bazarov, embracing Pavel Petrovich, who was turning pale, "Now I am not a duelist but a doctor, and the first thing I have to do is see Look at your wounds. Peter, come here, Peter! Where did you hide? " "It's a small matter... I don't need anyone's help," Pavel Petrovich said staccatoly, "I should... and..." He was about to twirl his beard, but his hands were too tired to lift them, and his eyes rolled upwards. Turned over, and passed out suddenly. "What's new! Passed out! It's easy!" sighed Bazarov, laying Pavel Petrovich on the grass. "Let me see how the wound is." He took out his handkerchief and wiped it off. He pressed the area around the wound, "It didn't hurt the femur," he said half-closed his lips, "the bullet grazed the muscle, vastus externus, the wound was not deep, and he was fine again after three weeks...but he passed out Oh, how fragile the nerves of such people are! How tender the skin!" "The old man was beaten to death?" Peter whispered from behind him. Bazarov turned around. "Get some water, boy, he's going to live with us from now on." But the well-bred servant didn't seem to understand what he said, and stood still.Pavel Petrovich slowly opened his eyes. "Dying!" murmured Peter, and began to sign the sign of the sign of the sign of the cross. "You're right... I have such a silly face!" said the wounded gentleman with a forced laugh. "Get some water, you fellow!" Bazarov shouted. "No... I'm just a vertige, I'll get over it in a moment... Please help me sit up... Okay, that's it. Just a small scrape, just put some medicine on it, and I can walk home, or Send me a carriage. If you agree, the duel will be over, and you have done a good job today...today, please remember." -------- ①Latin: tendon outside the thigh. ②French: dizziness. "Don't talk about the past," replied Bazarov, "as for the future, don't worry about it, because I have decided to leave this place. Now let me bandage your wounds. Your wounds are not dangerous, but they are still It’s better to stop the bleeding. Right now, the wooden man must wake up.” Bazarov grabbed Peter by the collar and shoved him a few times, ordering him to find the carriage quickly. "Be careful not to frighten my brother," Pavel Petrovich added, rushing to Peter's back, "don't tell him not to." Peter left in a hurry, and the two enemies sat on the grass without making a sound.Pavel Petrovich tried not to look at Bazarov as much as possible: it was reconciled—he didn't want to, but he was ashamed of his arrogance, of his failure, of this stupidity, which was no worse than This ending is even better. "Thank God, at least this man can't stay here any longer," he reassured himself.The silence was so long and unbearable that everyone felt uncomfortable.Everyone knows what the other is thinking, but they just don't say it.It's nice to have a tacit understanding as a friend, but it's very unpleasant to be an enemy, especially when you can't go away and you can't explain it. "Did I not bandage too tightly?" Bazarov asked anyway. "No, very well," replied Pavel Petrovich.After a while, he added: "This matter can't be hidden from my brother. Let's just say it's a political dispute." "Okay," Bazarov said, "just say that I scolded all the Anglophiles." "Very well. Now, what do you think the man who sees us will think?" Pavel Petrovich asked, pointing to the passing peasants.The man had driven past Bazarov with the tied horses before their duel, and now he returned the same way and took off his hat to show "respect" when "Master" was there. "Who knows!" replied Bazarov, "it's quite possible that he didn't think of anything. Russian peasants are unpredictable, as Mrs. Ratcliffe has demonstrated more than once. Who can figure it out? Even he himself can't figure it out." -------- ① Ratcliff (AnnRadcliff, 1784-1823), a British female writer, has a certain reputation in the history of literature for her mysterious and horror novels. "Ah, you're joking again!" Pavel Petrovitch was about to go on, when suddenly he shouted: "Look what's happened to your stupid Peter! My brother is here!" Bazarov turned his head and saw Nikolai Petrovich sitting in the carriage with a pale face.He jumped down without waiting for the carriage to stop, and went straight to his brother. "What's the matter?" he asked in alarm. "Evgeny Vasilyitch, why do you dare to ask me?" "Nothing," replied Pavel Petrovich instead, "you were disturbed for nothing. I had a quarrel with Mr. Bazarov, for which I received a small punishment." "God, where did it begin?" "How can I say yes to you? Because Mr. Bazarov has spoken disrespectfully to Sir Pierre Robert. But I should say that it is my own fault, I caused it, and Mr. Bazarov has nothing to do with it." Ford." -------- ① Ratcliff (AnnRadcliff, 1784-1823), a British female writer, has a certain reputation in the history of literature for her mysterious and horror novels. "Oh, you're still bleeding!" "Do you think it's water flowing in my veins? Putting some blood is good for your health, don't you think so, doctor? Don't worry, help me get into the car first, and I'll be fine by tomorrow. Yes, it's very easy to sit like this." Well, let's go, driver!" Nikolai Petrovich followed behind the carriage.Bazarov wanted to go last... "I want to ask you to take care of my brother," Nikolai Petrovich told him, "and I'm going to the provincial capital to get another doctor." Bazarov bowed silently. An hour later Pavel Petrovich was in bed with his feet properly bandaged.The whole family was shocked.Fedosya felt ill, and Nikolai Petrovich silently rubbed his hands.But Pavel Petrovitch was joking, especially with Bazarov.He now wore a linen shirt, a smart jacket over it, and a peaked hat; he was not allowed to lower the curtains, and complained with a smile that he had to refuse food. But at night, he started to have a fever and a headache.At this time the city doctor arrived. (Nikolai Petrovich disobeyed his brother and sent for a doctor anyway, and Bazarov also wanted him to send for a new one. Bazarov sat alone in his room all day irritated, not a Every time he went to see a patient, he was in a hurry, and he returned to his room in a short time. He met Fedosia twice, but she avoided each time in fear.) The new doctor advocated drinking more cold drinks Heat dissipation, and at the same time confirmed Bazarov's words, there will be no danger.Nikolai Petrovich said that his brother had accidentally wounded himself, to which the doctor grunted, and then, when he received the twenty-six rubles in silver, he said: "Yes, such things often happen." No one in the house undressed and went to bed.Nikolai Petrovitch was now on tiptoe to look at his brother, now on tiptoe to walk away from him, while the latter, moaning softly, not sleeping well, said to his brother in French: "Couchez-vous. "Keep asking for water.Nikolai Petrovich ordered Fedosya to bring a glass of lemonade.Pavel Petrovich glanced at her carefully, and drank the lemonade from his glass.In the morning, the heat increased, and there was a slight staccato raving.But then he suddenly opened his eyes, just in time to see his younger brother leaning over the bed and saying: "Nicholas, do you think Feodosia looks a little like Nellie?" -------- ①French: Please go to bed. "Which Nellie, Pavel?" "Why do you ask! I mean Duchess P., especially the upper part of her face, CMest de la ymefamille." -------- ①French: Similar looks. Nikolai Petrovitch made no answer, but secretly wondered at his brother's devotion to him. "Old things must come back to mind," he said to himself privately. "Oh, how I love her!" Pavel Petrovitch said to himself, clasping his hands behind his head. "I'll never allow some dirty fellow to touch her a finger," he added after a pause. Nikolai Petrovitch just sighed, not knowing to whom he was speaking. At about eight o'clock the next day, Bazarov came to say goodbye. He had already packed his bags and released the collected frogs, insects and birds. "Are you saying good-bye?" Nikolai Petrovitch rose to meet him. "yes." "I understand and agree with your decision. My brother was at fault, of course, and he has been punished for it. He told me himself that he forced you and you had no choice. I believe a duel was unavoidable at the time. Well, because of... because of your differences of opinion... it's irreconcilable (it's almost impossible to say this). My brother was educated in the old law and has a stubborn temperament... Thank God, it's finally over .I have taken the necessary steps to prevent publicity...” "I'll leave you my address in case anything goes wrong," said Bazarov coldly. "I hope there will be no problems, Yevgeny Vasilyitch... I deeply regret that your visit to my house this time has had... such a result. I also regret, Arkady... ..." "I can still meet him in the future," Bazarov interrupted impatiently with "explanations" and "regrets", "but if you can't see him, please send my apologies." "I beg you too..." Nikolai Petrovich answered with a bow, but Bazarov withdrew without waiting for him to finish. Pavel Petrovich learned that Bazarov was going away and wished to shake his hand and bid him good-bye.But Bazarov just kept a cold face, he understood that Pavel Petrovich was just trying to show his magnanimity.He didn't have time to say goodbye to Fedosia, but just glanced at each other through the window.Her face seemed sad. "She might be in trouble!" he said to himself, "however, we can get through it!" But Peter was not so emotional that he fell on Bazarov's shoulder and wept, until Bazarov asked him: "Are the eyes made of water?" Only then did the tears stop.Dunyasha had to hide behind a grove to hide her heartbroken tears.The creator of all misery got into the carriage, lit a cigar, and having driven three versts, looked for the last time around the corner at the Kirsanov estate and the row of new landowner houses, and spat Spit said: "Damn landlords and gentry, go to them!" Then he wrapped his coat tighter. Pavel Petrovich's injuries improved quickly, but he was forced to stay in bed for two weeks, living what he called a "captivity" for two weeks.He was very particular about his appearance, and he kept ordering people to perfume him.Nikolai Petrovich read to him, and Fedosya waited on him as before: broth, lemonade, soft-boiled eggs.She was frightened every time she entered his room, because Pavel Petrovich's unexpected behavior had frightened everyone in the house, especially her.Only Prokofiy was not surprised. He said that duels were common among gentlemen in his time, "Only respectable gentlemen do this. As for tricksters and liars, they are only worthy of being beaten in the stables." .” Fedosya did not seem to have any qualms of conscience, but it was sad to think of the reasons for the dispute, and besides, Pavel Petrovich looked at her so strangely... even when he turned his back He could feel the gaze on her too.She had lost weight from her fear, but she had also become more attractive. One morning Pavel Petrovich felt better and moved from bed to sofa.At this moment Nikolai Petrovitch went to the threshing-floor when he learned that he was much better.Fedosya brought tea, put it on the little table, and was about to leave when Pavel Petrovich called her. "Where are you going in such a hurry, Fedosya Nikolaevna? Is there something wrong?" "No... but... I'm going to make some tea." "Dunyasha can handle it without you. Sit down with your patient. I have something to tell you." Fedosia sat down in silence. "Listen here," said Pavel Petrovitch, twirling his beard, "I've been meaning to ask: are you afraid of me?" "I?" "Yes, you. You always dare not look me in the eye, as if you have a trouble in your conscience." Feodosya blushed and glanced at Pavel Petrovich, feeling that he was especially strange today, and her heart beat violently. "Is your conscience quiet?" he asked. "Why should I be disturbed?" she whispered. "It could happen. But in whose presence would you be disturbed? In my presence? Impossible. In the presence of the rest of the house? That would be absurd. Could it be in the presence of my brother? But you are not loving looking at him?" "love him." "Love with all your heart?" "I love Nikolai Petrovich with all my heart." "Really? Look at me, Fedosia (that's what he called her for the first time) . . . You know that the greatest sin is lying!" "I'm not lying, Pavel Petrovich. If I didn't love Nikolai Petrovich, I wouldn't need to live!" "You won't abandon him to love someone else?" "Who else can I love besides him?" "Maybe in love with someone else, for example, with the gentleman who has gone away." Fedosya stood up abruptly. "By God, Pavel Petrovich, why are you torturing me like this? How can I be sorry for you? How can you say that? . . . " "Fedosya," Pavel Petrovich said sadly, "I saw..." "What do you see, sir?" "There, in the arbor." Feodosia's face turned red to her ears. "What's wrong with me?" She said it with difficulty. Pavel Petrovich sat up straight. "You're not wrong? Are you? Not at all?" "Nikolai Petrovich is the only one I love in this world, and I will love him all my life!" Suddenly Fedosya's words burst into tears, and tears welled up in her throat. "What you saw, I will say even at the Last Judgment, I am not guilty, no. If it is suspected that I have deceived my benefactor, Nikolai Petrovich, I will die now..." She lost her voice with excitement.Pavel Petrovich suddenly took her by the hand and held her tightly... She looked at him and was stunned: his face was growing paler, and there were bright tears in his eyes.What surprised her even more was that a big teardrop was hanging on his cheek. "Fedosya!" His voice was low, but touching. "Love, love my brother! What a kind, good man he is! Never love anyone else in the world, don't listen to sweet words. Just think, if he loves someone and is not loved by that person How terrible it would be to love! Never abandon my poor brother Nicholas!" The surprise on Feodosia's face replaced tears and fear when Pavel Petrovich, yes, when Pavel Petrovich put her hand to his lips, not kissing it but sighing and trembling At that time, she was even more stunned. "Lord," she thought, "is he sick again? . . . " In fact, it was the fire of life that had been extinguished that was rekindled in him. The stairs creaked under the hurried footsteps... He pushed her away and leaned his head back on the pillow.The door opened, and through the door there appeared a cheerful, rosy-faced, radiant Nikolai Petrovich, and an equally cheerful, ruddy Mitya.The child, wearing only a shirt, jumped up and down in his father's arms, and rubbed the big buttons of his coat with his bare feet. Feodosya threw herself on Nikolai Petrovich, embraced him and her son with both hands, and bowed her head on his shoulder.Nikolai Petrovitch was astonished, for Feodosia, usually so shy and reserved, had never shown any affection for him in the presence of a third person. "What's the matter with you?" he asked, glanced at his brother again, and handed Mitya to Fedosia. "Are you feeling sick again?" he asked, approaching him. The other party covered his face with a linen handkerchief. "No... nothing... On the contrary, I'm better." "You shouldn't have moved to this sofa too soon." Then he turned to speak to Fedosya, but Fedosya hurried out of the room with Mitya in her arms and slammed the door behind her. "I wanted to bring Little Lishi here to show you. He misses Uncle very much. Why did you take him away? But, what's the matter with you? What happened between you?" "Brother!" Pavel Petrovich called solemnly. Nikolai Petrovich shuddered, feeling a little ill. "Brother," Pavel Petrovich called again, "please swear that you will fulfill one of my requests." "What request? Just say it." "This matter is of the utmost importance. As I understand it, the whole happiness of your life will depend upon it. I have thought about it for many hours. . . . Now! You are outstanding and should not be disturbed by worldliness and prejudice." "What do you mean, Pavel?" "Marry Fedosia...she loves you, she is the mother of your son." Nikolai Petrovich took a step back in surprise, clapped his hands and said: "That's what you said, Pavel? I thought you were against this kind of marriage. But you said something like that! Don't you understand that it's out of respect for you that I didn't complete what you justly did?" indicated responsibilities." "You respect me wrongly in this matter," objected Pavel Petrovich with a sad smile, "and now I think that Bazarov was right to reproach us for our aristocratic manners. No, my dear brother." , The old-fashioned views should be changed! We are about to enter the twilight years, and it is time to put aside all the pomp, we should sacrifice the last for the basics, in exchange for happiness." Nikolai Petrovich threw himself on his brother and embraced him. "You opened my eyes!" he said happily, "I was right, you are the kindest and wisest person in the world, besides, now I see that you are both sensible and Noble at heart..." "Take it easy, take it easy, don't touch your sensible brother, who is almost fifty years old and still fights like a warrant officer. It's settled: Fedosya will be My... belle-soeur." "My dear Pavel! But what will Arkady say?" "Arkady? He will be very pleased. Marriage, as a rite, does not conform to his canon, but it satisfies his concept of equality greatly. In fact, it is already audix-neuvie mesiecle; why maintain differences of opinion?" "Hey, Pavel, Pavel! Let me kiss you again. Don't be afraid, I'll be careful." The brothers hug each other. -------- ① French: sister-in-law. ②French: the nineteenth century. "Tell her your decision now, would you like it?" asked Pavel Petrovich. "What's the hurry? Have you already talked?" said Nikolai Petrovitch. "Have we talked? Quelleidee!" -------- ①French: Where do you want to go! "Very good. First of all, we have to wait for you to recover. The happy event will happen sooner or later anyway. You have to think about it and make plans..." "Anyway, you've made up your mind?" "Of course, I have made up my mind, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Now you must rest well, and any excitement will do you no good... We will talk about it later. Go to sleep, my dear, and I wish you well!" "Why should he be so grateful to me?" thought Pavel Petrovitch, when he was alone, "as if it was not up to him! Well, when he has a wedding, I'll go away, To Dresden in Germany or Florence in Italy, and spend my days there." He sprinkled some perfume on his forehead and closed his eyes.那漂亮的、消瘦的头部靠在枕垫上，在白昼明亮的光线照耀下如同死人的一样……他心若止水，确实是个死人。