Chapter five, Part three, the quadrille began, Will you allow me,
your excellency, asked Akim Petrovitch, holding the bottle of respectful in his hands
and preparing to pour from it into his Excellency's glass. I really don't know
whether, but Akim Petrovitch, with reverent and readiant face, was already feeling
the glass. After feeling the glass, he proceeded, rising and wriggling,
as it were, stealthily, as it were, furtively, to pour himself
out some with this difference that he did not feel his own glass to within
a finger length of the top, and this seemed somehow more respectful. He
was like a woman into a veil, as he said beside his chief,
what could she talk about? Indeed, yet, to entertain his excellency was
an absolute duty, since he had the honor of keeping him company. The
Champagne served as a resource, and his Excellency too was pleased that he had
filled his glass. Not for the sake of the champagne, for it was
warm and perfectly abominable, but just morally pleased. The old chap would like
to have a drink himself, thought Ivan Elijah. But he doesn't venture till
I do. I mustn't prevent him, and indeed it would be absurd for
the bottle to stand between as untouched. He took a sip. Anyway,
it seemed better than sitting doing nothing. I'm here, he said, with
pauses and emphasis. I am here, you know, so to speak accidentally,
And of course it may be that some people would consider it unseemly for
me to be at such a gathering. Akim Petrovitch said nothing, but listened
with timid curiosity. But I hope you will understand with what object I have
come. I haven't really come simply to drink wine. He Akim Petrovitch tied
to chuckle, following the example of his excellency, But again you could not
get it out. And again he made absolutely no consolatory answer. I'm here
in order sought to speak, it to encouraged to to show, so to
speak, a moral aim. Ivan Elitch continued feeling vexed at Akim Petrovitch's stupidity,
but she suddenly subsided into silence himself. He saw that poor Akim Petrovitch
had dropped his eyes as though he were in fault. The General, in
some confusion, made haste to take another sip from his glass, and Akim
Petrovitch clutched at the bottle as though it were his only hope of salvation,
and filled the glass again. You haven't many resources, thought Ivan Elitch,
looking sternly at poor Akim Petrovitch. The latter, feeling that stern general like
eye upon him, made up his mind to remain silent for good and not
to raise his eyes. So they sat beside each other for a couple of
minutes, two sickly minutes for Akim Petrovitch. A couple of words about Akim
Petrovitch. He was a man of the old school, as meek, as
a hen, reared from infancy to obsequious servility, and at the same time
a good natured and even honorable man. He was a Petersburg Russian. That
is, his father and his father's father were born, grew up, and
served in Petersburg, and had never once left Petersburg. That is quite a
special type of Russian. They have hardly any idea of Russia, though that
does not trouble them at all. Their whole interest is confined to Petersburg,
and chiefly the place in which they served, or they thoughts are concentrated on
preference for fathing points on the shop and a month's salary. They don't know
a single Russian custom, a single Russian song except Lachinashka, and that only
because it is played on the barrel organs. However, there are two fundamental
and invariable signs by which you can at once distinguish a Petersburg Russian from a
real Russian. The first sign is the fact that Petersburg Russians all without exception,
speak of the newspaper as the academic News, and never call it the
Petersburg News. The second and tiqually trustworthy sign is that Petersburg Russians never make
use of the word breakfast, but always call it frushtuk, with a special
emphasis on the first syllable. By these radical and distinguishing signs you can tell
them apart. In short, this is a humble type which has been formed
during the last thirty five years. Akim Petrovitch, however, was by no
means a fool. If the general had asked him a question about anything in
his own province, he would have answered and kept up a conversation. As
it was, it was unseemly for a subordinate even to answer such questions as
these, though Akim Petrovitch was dying from curiosity to know something more detailed about
his Excellency's real intentions. And meanwhile, ivan Elich sank more and more into
meditation and a sort of weir of ideas. In his absorption. He sipped
his glass every half minute, Akim Petrovitch at once zealously filled it up.
Both were silent. Ivan Elich began looking at the dances, and immediately something
attracted his attention. One circumstance even surprised him. The dances were certainly lively.
Here people danced in the simplicity of their hearts to amuse themselves and even
to romp wildly among the dancers who were really skillful, but the unskilled stamped
so vigorously that they might have been taken for agile ones. The officer was
among the foremost. He particularly liked the figures in which he was left alone
to perform a solo. Then he performed the most marvelous capers. For instance,
standing upright as a post, he would suddenly bend over to one side,
so that one expected him to fall over, But with the next step
he would suddenly bend over in the opposite direction, at the same acute angle
to the floor. He kept the most serious face and danced in the full
conviction that everyone was watching him. Another gentleman, who had had rather more
than he could carry before the quadrille, dropped a slip beside his partner,
so that his partner had to dance alone. The young registration clerk, who
had danced with the lady in the blue scarf through all the figures and through
all the five quadrilles which they had danced that evening, played the same rank
the whole time. That is, he dropped a little behind his partner,
seized the end of her scarf, and then they crossed over succeeded in imprinting
some twenty kisses on the scarf. His partner sailed along in front of him
as though she noticed nothing. The medical student really did dance on his head
and excited frantic enthusiasm, stamping, and shrieks of delight. In short,
the absence of constraint was very marked. Ivan elight, whom the wine was
beginning to effect, began by smiling, but by degrees a bitter doubt began
to steal into his heart. Of course, he liked free and easy manners
and unconventionality he desired. He had even inwardly prayed for free and easy manners
when they had all held back. But now that unconventionality had gone beyond all
limits. One lady, for instance, the one in the shabby dark blue
velvet dress bought fourth hand in the sixth figure, pinned her dressed so as
to turn it into something like trousers. This was the Cleopatra Semyonovna, with
whom one could venture to do anything. As her partner, the medical student
had expressed it. The medical student defied description. He was simply a fokin.
How was it they had held back, and now they were so quickly
emancipated. One might think it nothing, But this transformation was somehow strange.
It indicated something. It was as though they had forgotten Ivan Eliichi's existence.
Of course, he was the first to laugh, and even ventured to applaud.
Akim Petrovitch chuckled respectfully in unison, though indeed with evident pleasure and no
suspicion that his excellency was beginning to nourish in his heart a new knowing anxiety.
Udan's capitally young man Ivan Eliich was obliged to say to the medical student
as he walked past him. The student turned sharply towards him, made a
grimace, and, bringing his face close into unseemly proximity to the face of
his excellency, crowed like a cock at the top of his voice. This
was too much. Ivan Elitch got up from the table. In spite of
that. A roar of inexpressible laughter followed. For the crowd was an extraordinarily
good imitation, and the whole performance was utterly unexpected. Ivan Elitch was still
standing and bewilderment when suddenly Pseldonimov himself made his appearance, and with a bow,
began begging him to come to supper. His mother followed him, Your
excellency, she said, bowing, do us the honor, Do not disdain
our humble fare. I really don't know, ivan Elitch was beginning. I
did not come with that idea. I meant to be going. He was,
in fact holding his hat in his hands. What is more, he
had at that very moment taken an inward vow at all costs to depart at
once, and on no account whatever to consent to remain, and he remained.
A minute later, he led the procession to the table. Pseldonimov and
his mother walked in front, clearing the way for him. They made him
sit down in the seat of honor, and again a bottle of champagne,
opened but not begun, was set beside his plate by way of or d'euvres.
There were salt, herrings and vodka. He put out his hand,
poured out a large glass of vodka and drank it off. He had never
drunk vodka before. He felt as though he were rolling down a hill,
were flying, flying, flying, that he must stop himself, catch at
something, but there was no possibility of it. His position was certainly becoming
more and more eccentric. What is more, or it seemed as though fate
were mocking at him. God knows what had happened to him in the course
of an hour or so. When he went in he had, so to
say, opened his arms to embrace all humanity, all his subordinates. And
here not more than an hour had passed, And in all his aching heart
he felt and knew that he hated Pseldonimov, and was cursing him, his
wife and his wedding. What was more, he saw from his face,
from his eyes alone that Pseldonimov himself hated him, that he was looking at
him with eyes that almost said, if only you would take yourself off,
curse you foisting yourself on us. All this he had read for some time
in his eyes. Of course, as he sat down to table, Ivan
Elitch would sooner have had his hand cut off than have owned, not only
aloud but even to himself that this was really so. The moment had not
fully arrived yet. There was still a moral vacillation. But his heart,
his heart, it ached, It was clamoring for freedom, for air,
for rest. Ivan Elighth was really too good natured. He knew, of
course, that he had long before to have gone away, not merely to
have gone away, but to have made his escape. That all this was
not the same, but had turned out utterly different from what he had dreamed
of on the pavement. Why did I come? Did I come here to
eat and drink? He asked himself as he tasted the salt herring. He
even had attacks of skepticism. There was at times the faint stare of irony
in regard to his own fine action. At the bottom of his heart,
he actually wondered at times why he had come in but how could she go
away? To go away like this without having finished the business properly was impossible.
What would people say? They would say that he was frequenting low company.
Indeed, it really would amount to that if he did not end it
properly. What would Stepan Nikifolovitch Samuel Ivanovitch say, For of course, it
would be all over the place by tomorrow. What would be said in the
offices, at their shambles, at the shabbins. No, he must take
his departure in such a way that all should understand why he had come.
He must make clear his moral aim, and meantime the dramatic moment would not
present itself. They don't even respect me, he went on, thinking,
what are they laughing at? They are as free and easy, as though
they had no feeling. But I have long suspected that all the younger generation
are without feeling. I must remain at all costs. They have just been
dancing. But now at table they will all be gathered together. I will
talk about questions about reforms, about the greatness of Russia. I can still
win their enthusiasm. Yes, perhaps nothing is yet lost. Perhaps it is
always like this in reality. What should I begin upon with them to attract
them. What plague can I hit upon? I am lost, simply lost?
And what is it they want? What is it they require? I
see they are laughing together. There can it be at me? Merciful heavens?
But what is it I want? Why is it? I am here?
Why don't I go away? Why do I go on persisting? He
thought this, and a sort of shame, a deep unbearable shame, rant
his heart more and more intensely. But everything went on in the same way,
one thing after another. Just two minutes after he had sat down to
the table, one terrible thought overwhelmed him completely. He suddenly felt that you
was horribly drunk. That is, not as he was before, but hopelessly
drunk. The cause of this was the glass of vodka which he had drunk
after the champagne, and which had immediately produced an effect. He was conscious.
He felt in every fiber of his being that he was growing hopelessly feeble.
Of course, his assurance was greatly increased, but consciousness had not deserted
him, and it kept crying out. It is bad, very bad,
and in fact utterly unseemly. Of course, his unstable drunken reflections could not
rest long on one subject. There began to be apparent, and unmistakably so,
even to himself, two opposite sides. On one side there was swaggering
assurance, a desire to conquer, a disdain of obstacles, and a desperate
confidence that he would attain his object. The other side showed itself in the
aching of his heart, and a sort of gnawing in his soul. What
would they say? How would it all end? What would happen to morrow?
To morrow? To morrow? He had felt vaguely before that he had
enemies in the company, No doubt, that was because I was drunk,
he thought, with agonizing doubt. What was his horror when he actually,
by unmistakable signs, convinced himself now that he really had enemies at the table,
and that it was impossible to doubt of it? And why why he
wondered? At the table there were all the thirty guests, of whom several
were quite tipsy. Others were behaving with a careless and sinister independence, shouting
and talking at the top of their voices, bawling out the toasts before the
time, and petting the ladies with pellets of bread. One unprepossessing personage in
a greasy coat had fallen off his chair as soon as he sat down,
and remained so till the end of supper. Another one made desperate efforts to
stand on the table to propose a toast, and only the officer who seized
him by the tails of his coat moderated his premature ardor The supper was a
pellmell affair, although they had hired a cook who had been in the service
of a general. There was the galantine, There was tongue and potatoes.
There were risoles with green peas. There was finally a goose, and last
of all, blancmange. Among the drinks were beer, vodka, and sherry.
The only bottle of champagne was standing beside a general, which obliged him
to pour it out for himself and also for Akim Petrovitch, who did not
venture at supper to officiate on his own initiative. The other guests had to
drink the toasts in Caucasian wine or anything else they could get. The table
was made up of several tables put together heather among them even a card table.
It was covered with many tablecloths, amongst them one colored Yaroslav cloth.
The gentleman said alternately, with the ladies, Pseldonimov's mother would not sit down
to the table. She bustled about and supervised. But another sinister female figure
who had not shown herself till then appeared on the scene, wearing a reddish
silk dress, with a very high cap on her head and a bandage round
her face for toothache. It appeared that this was the bride's mother, who
had at last consented to emerge from a back room for supper. She had
refused to appear since then owing to her implacable hostility to Pseldonimov's mother, But
to that we will refer later. This lady looked spitefully, even sarcastically,
at the General and evidently did not wish to be presented to him. To
Ivan Elite, this figure appeared suspicious in the extreme, but apart from her,
several other persons were suspicious and inspired in voluntary apprehension and uneasiness. It
even seemed that they were in some sort of plot together against Taivan Elich.
At any rate, it seemed so to him, and throughout the whole supper
he became more and more convinced of it. A gentleman with a beard,
some sort of free artist, was particularly sinister. He even looked at taivan
Elija several times, and then turning to his neighbor, who whispered something.
Another person present was unmistakably drunk, but yet from certain signs, was to
be regarded with suspicion. The medical student, too gave rise to unpleasant expectations.
Even the officer himself was not quite to be depended on. But the
young man on the comic paper was blazing with hatred. He loved in his
chair. He looked so haughty and conceded his snort so aggressively. And though
the rest of the guests took absolutely no notice of the young journalists, who
had contributed only four wretched poems to the firebrand, and had consequently become a
liberal and evidently indeed disliked him, yet when a pellet of bread aimed in
his direction fell near ivan Elich, he was ready to stake his head that
it had been thrown by no other than the young men in question. All
this, of course, had a pitiable effect on him. Another observation was
particularly unpleasant. Ivan Elich became aware that he was beginning to articulate indistinctly and
with difficulty, that she was longing to say a great deal, but that
his tongue refused to obey him. And then he suddenly seemed to forget himself.
And worst of all, he would suddenly burst into a loud guffaw of
laughter, a proposed nothing. This inclination quickly passed off after a glance of
champagne, which ivan Elitch had not meant to drink, though he had poured
it out and suddenly drunk it quite by accident. After that glass, he
felt at once almost inclined to cry. He felt that he was sinking into
a most peculiar state of sentimentality. He began to be again filled with love.
He loved everyone, even Pseldonimov, even the young man on the economic
paper. He suddenly longed to embrace all of them, to forget everything,
and to be reconciled. What is more, to tell them everything openly,
all all that is, to tell them what a good nice man he was,
with what wonderful talents, what services he would do for his country,
how good he was at entertaining the fair sex, and above all, how
progressive he was, how humanely ready. He was to be indulgent to all,
to the very lowest, and finally, in conclusion, to tell them,
frankly, all the motives that had impelled him to turn up at Pseldonimov's
uninvited, to drink two bottles of champagne and to make him happy with his
presence, the truth, the holy truth, and candor before all things.
I will capture them by candor. They will believe me. I see it
clearly. They actually look at me with hostility. But when I tell them
all, I shall conquer them completely. They will fill their glasses and drink
my health with shouts. The officer will break his glass on his spur.
Perhaps they will even shout Hurrah. Even if they want to toss me after
the Hussar fashion, I will not oppose them, and indeed it would be
very jolly. I will kiss the bride on her forehead. She is charming.
Akim Petrovitch is a very nice man too. Pseldonimov will improve, of
course later on. He will acquire, so to speak, a society polish
and although of course the younger generation has not that delicacy of feeling yet yet,
I will talk to them about the contemporary significance of Russia among the European
states. I would refer to the peasant question too, Yes, and they
will all like me, and I shall live with glory. These dreams were,
of course extremely agreeable. But what was unpleasant was that in the midst
of these rosyate anticipations, ivan Elich suddenly discovered in himself another unexpected propensity,
that was to spit. Anyway, Saliva began running from his mouth apart from
any will of his own. He observed this on Akim Petrovitch, whose cheeks
he spluttered upon, and who said, not daring to wipe it off from
respectfulness, ivan Elich took his dinner napkin and wiped himself. But this immediately
struck him himself as so incongruous, so opposed to all common sense, that
he sank into silence, and again wondering, though Akim Petrovitch emptied his glass,
yet he said as though he were scolded. Ivan Elitch reflected now that
he had for almost a quarter of an hour been talking to him about some
most interesting subjects. But the Attakim Petrovitch had not only seemed embarrassed as he
listened, but positively frightened. Pseldonimov who was sitting one chair away from him,
also craned his neck towards him, and, bending his head sideways,
listened to him with the most unpleasant air. He actually seemed to be keeping
a watch on him. Turning his eyes upon the rest of the company,
he saw that many were looking straight at him and laughing. But what we
strangest of all was that he was not in the least embarrassed by it.
On the contrary, he sipped his glass again and suddenly began speaking so that
all could hear. I was saying just now, he began, as loudly
as possible. I was saying, just now, ladies and gentlemen, to
Akim Petrovitch, that Russia, Yes, Russia. In short, you understand
that I mean to say, Russia is living. It is my profound conviction
through a period of humanity. Hu humanity was heard at the other end of
the table. H two too. Ivan elij stopped, said, Donivov,
got up from his chain, began trying to see who had shouted. Akim
Petrovitch stealthily shook his head as though admonishing the guests. Ivan Elij so this
distinctly, but in his confusion said nothing. Humanity, he continued, obstinately,
And this evening, and only this evening, I said to Stepan Niki
Foovich, Yes, that that the Regeneration sought to speak of things, your
excellency, was heard a loud exclamation at the other end of the table.
What is your pleasure? Answered Ivan Elich, pulled up short and trying to
distinguish who had called to him, Nothing at all, your excellency, I
was carried away, continued Contine knew. The voice was heard again. Ivan
Elich felt upset the regeneration so to speak of those same things, your excellency,
The voice shouted again, What do you want? How do you do?
This time Ivan Elizch could not restrain himself. He broke off his speech
and tent to the assailant who had disturbed the general harmony, who was a
very young lad still at school, who had taken more than a drop too
much, and was an object of great suspicion to the general. He had
been shouting for a long time past, and had even broken a glass and
two plates, maintaining that this was the proper thing to do at a wedding.
At the moment when Ivan Elijah turned towards him, The officer was beginning
to pitch into the noisy youngster. What are you about? Why are you
yelling? We shall turn you out, that's what we shall do. I
don't mean you, your excellency, I don't mean you, continue, cried
the hilarious schoolboy, lulling back in his chair. Continue. I am listening,
and am very very very much pleased with you. Praise worthy, praise
worthy. The wretched boys drunk, said Ldonimov in a whisper. I see
that he is drunk. But I was just telling a very amusing anecdote,
Your excellency, began the officer about a lieutenant in our company who was talking
just like that to his superior officers. So this young man is imitating him
now, to every word of his superior officers. He said, praiseworthy,
praiseworthy. He was turned out of the army ten years ago on account of
it. What lieutenant was that in our company? Your excellency, He went
out of his mind over the word praiseworthy. At first they tried gentle methods.
Then they put him under arrest. His commanding officer admonished him in the
most fatherly way, and he answered, praiseworthy, praiseworthy and strange to say.
The officer was a fine looking man, over six feet. They meant
to court martial him, but then they perceived that he was mad, so
as schoolboy, as schoolboys, prank need not be taken seriously. For my
part, I am ready to overlook it. They had a medical inquiry or
excellency upon my word. But he was alive, wasn't he? What did
they decept him? A loud and almost universal role of laughter resounded among the
guests, till then behaved with decorum. Ivan Eliit was furious, ladies and
gentlemen, She shouted, at first, a scartly stammering, I'm fully capable
of apprehending that a man is not dissected alive. I imagined that in his
arrangement he had ceased to be alive, that is, that he had died.
That is I mean to say that you don't like me, and yet
I like you all. Yes, I like poor poor fiy. I'm larn
myself by speaking like this. At that moment, ivan Elitch splutted so that
a great deb of saliva flew onto the tablecloth in a most conspicuous place.
Seldonimov flew to wipe it off with a table napkin. This last disaster crushed
him completely. My friends, this is too much, she cried in despair.
The man is drunk. Your excellency, Pseldonimov prompted him again. Porfiry,
I see that you all yes. I say that I hope yes.
I call upon you all to tell me in what way have I lowered myself?
Ivan Elight was almost crying, your excellency, good heavens Porphyry. I
appealed to you tell me when I came yes yes to your wedding. I
had an object. I was aiming at moral elevation. I wanted it to
be felt. I appealed to all, am, I greatly lowered in your
eyes? Or not? A deathlike silence? That was just it, a
deathlike silence, and to such a downright question. They might at least shout
at this minute flashed through his Excellency's head, but the guests only looked at
one another. Akim Petrovitch said, more dead than alive, while Pseldonimov,
numb with terror, was repeating to himself the awful question which had occurred to
him more than once already. What shall I have to pay for all this
tomorrow? At this point, the young man on the comic paper, who
was very drunk but who had hitherto set in morow silence, addressed Ivan Elija
directly, and with flashing eyes, began answering in the name of the whole
company. Yes, he said, in a loud voice. Yes, you
have lowered yourself. Yes, you are a reactionary. Reactionary young man,
you are forgetting yourself. To whom are you speaking? So to express it,
Ivan Elich cried furiously, jumping up from his seat again to you.
And secondly, I am not a young man. You've come to give yourself
airs and tried to win popularity. Pseldonimov, What does this mean? Cried
Ivan Elij. But Pseldonimov was reduced to such horror that she stood still like
a post and was utterly at a loss what to do. The guests,
too, said mutes in their seats, all but the artist and the schoolboy,
who applauded and shouted Bravo, bravo. The young men on the comic
paper went on shouting with unrestrained violence. Yet you came to show off your
humanity. You've hindered the enjoyment of everyone. You've been drinking Champagne, without
thinking that it is beyond the means of a clerk at ten roubles a month.
And I suspect that you are one of those high officials who are a
little too fond of the young wives of their clerks. What is more,
I am convinced that you support state monopolies. Yes, yes, yes,
Pseldonimov. Pseldonimov shouted Ivan Eliche, holding out his hands to him. He
felt that every word uttered by the comic young man was a fresh dagger at
his heart directly, Your excellency, please do not disturb yourself, Pseldonimov cried,
energetically, rush up to the coming young man, seizing him by the
collar and dragging him away from the table. Such physical strengths could indeed not
have been expected from the weakly looking Pseldonimov. But the comic young man was
very drunk, while Pseldonimov was perfectly sober. Then he gave him two or
three cups in the bag and thrust him out of the door. Your roll
scoundrels, wrote the young man of the comic paper. I will caricature you
all tomorrow in the Firebrand. They all leapt up from their seats, Your
excellency, Your excellency, cried Cheldonimov, his mother and several others crowding around
the General. Your excellency, do not be disturbed. No, no,
cried the General. I am annihilated. I came. I meant to bless
you, so to speak, and this is how I am paid for everything
everything. He sank on to a chair as though unconscious, laid both his
arms on the table, and bowed his head over them, straight into a
plate of blanmane. There is no need to describe the general horror. A
minute later, he got up, evidently meaning to go out, gave a
lurch, stumbled against the leg of a chair, fell full length on the
floor, and snort. This is what is apt to happen to men who
don't drink when they accidentally take a glass too much. They preserved their consciousness
to the last point, to the last minute, and then fall to the
ground as though struck down. Ivan Elich lay on the floor absolutely unconscious.
Pseldonimov clutched at his hair and sat as though petrified. In that position.
The guests made haste to depart, commending each in his own way on the
incident. It was about three o'clock in the morning. End of Chapter five,
Part three,