Goncharov Ivan Alexandrovich Complete Works and Letters in Twenty Volumes

Here he read a poem by Pushkin: "The artist is a barbarian with a sleepy brush", etc., wiped his wet eyes and hid in the depths of the carriage.

VI

The morning was beautiful. The lake in the village of Grachi, familiar to the reader, was slightly rippling from a light swell. Eyes involuntarily pinched from the blinding brilliance sun rays, sparkling now with diamond, now with emerald sparks in the water. Weeping birches bathed their branches in the lake, and in some places the banks were overgrown with sedge, in which large yellow flowers hid, resting on wide floating leaves. Light clouds sometimes ran into the sun; suddenly it seems to turn away from the Rooks; then the lake, and the grove, and the village - everything will instantly darken; one distance shines brightly. The cloud will pass - the lake will shine again, the fields will shed like gold.
Anna Pavlovna has been sitting on the balcony since five o'clock. What caused it: sunrise, fresh air or the singing of a lark? Not! she does not take her eyes off the road that goes through the grove. Agrafena came to ask for the keys. Anna Pavlovna did not look at her, and without taking her eyes off the road, handed over the keys and did not even ask why. The cook appeared: she, also without looking at him, gave him many orders. The other day the table was ordered for ten people.
Anna Pavlovna was left alone again. Suddenly her eyes sparkled; all the strength of her soul and body passed into vision: something blackened on the road. Someone is driving, but quietly, slowly. Oh! it's a cart coming down the mountain. Anna Pavlovna frowned.
“Here’s someone who was not easy! she grumbled, “no, to go around; everyone jumps in here.
With displeasure, she sank back into her chair and again, with trembling expectation, fixed her eyes on the grove, not noticing anything around. And there was something to notice around: the scenery began to change significantly. midday air, heated by the sultry rays of the sun, became stuffy and heavy. So the sun hid. It became dark. And the forest, and distant villages, and grass - everything was clothed in an indifferent, some kind of ominous color.
Anna Pavlovna woke up and looked up. My God! From the west stretched, like a living monster, a black, ugly spot with a copper tint along the edges and quickly approached the village and the grove, stretching like huge wings on the sides. Everything has become desolate in nature. The cows lowered their heads; the horses fanned their tails, flared their nostrils and snorted, shaking their manes. The dust under their hooves did not rise up, but crumbled heavily, like sand, under the wheels. The cloud was moving ominously. Soon a distant rumble slowly rolled over.
Everything was silent, as if waiting for something unprecedented. Where did these birds go, which so briskly fluttered and sang in the sun? Where are the insects that buzzed so variously in the grass? Everything was hidden and silent, and soulless objects seemed to share the ominous foreboding. The trees stopped swaying and touching each other with boughs; they straightened up; only from time to time they leaned their tops towards each other, as if mutually warning themselves in a whisper about imminent danger. A cloud has already overlaid the horizon and formed some kind of leaden, impenetrable vault. Everyone in the village tried to get home on time. There was a moment of general, solemn silence. A fresh breeze swept from the forest like an advanced herald, breathed coolness into the face of the traveler, rustled through the leaves, slammed the gate in the hut in passing, and, turning the dust in the street, died down in the bushes. A stormy whirlwind rushes after him, slowly moving a column of dust along the road; here he burst into the village, threw off several rotten boards from the fence, demolished the thatched roof, raised the skirt of a peasant woman carrying water and drove roosters and hens along the street, fanning their tails.
Rushed. Again silence. Everything is fussing and hiding; only a stupid ram does not foresee anything: he indifferently chews his cud, standing in the middle of the street, and looks in one direction, not understanding the general alarm; Yes, a feather with a straw, circling along the road, is trying to keep up with the whirlwind.
Two, three large drops of rain fell - and suddenly lightning flashed. The old man got up from the mound and hurriedly led the little grandchildren to the hut; the old woman, crossing herself, hastily closed the window.
Thunder roared and, drowning out the human noise, solemnly, regally rolled through the air. The frightened horse broke away from the hitching post and rushes with a rope into the field; the peasant pursues him in vain. And the rain just pours and cuts, more and more often, and crushes into the roofs and windows harder and harder. A little white hand timidly sticks out an object of tender cares - flowers - onto the balcony.
At the first clap of thunder, Anna Pavlovna crossed herself and left the balcony.
“No, there’s nothing to look forward to today,” she said with a sigh, “because of the storm I’ve stopped somewhere, except towards night.”
Suddenly, the sound of wheels was heard, only not from the grove, but from the other side. Someone entered the yard. Adueva's heart sank.
“How is it from there? she thought, didn't he want to come secretly? No, it's not a road."
She didn't know what to think; but soon everything was explained. A minute later Anton Ivanovich entered. His hair was silver with grey; he himself grew fat; cheeks swollen from inactivity and overeating. He was wearing the same frock coat, the same wide pantaloons.
“I’ve been waiting for you, waiting for you, Anton Ivanovich,” Anna Pavlovna began, “I thought you wouldn’t be, I was in despair.
- It's a sin to think! to someone else, mother - so! you won’t get me to anyone ... but not to you. I lingered through no fault of my own: after all, I now ride on one horse.
– What is it? Anna Pavlovna asked absently, moving towards the window.
- Why, mother, the pegashka limped from the christening at Pavel Savich: the difficult coachman managed to put the old barn door through the groove ... poor people, you see! There is no new board! And on the door there was a nail or a hook, or something - the evil one knows them! The horse stepped aside and shied away and almost broke my neck ... sort of arrows! Since then, he has been lame ... After all, there are such stingers! You won’t believe, mother, that this is in their house: in another almshouse it’s better to keep the people. And in Moscow, on the Kuznetsk bridge, every year, ten thousand and they will squander!
Anna Pavlovna listened to him absently and shook her head slightly when he had finished.
- But I received a letter from Sashenka, Anton Ivanovich! she interrupted, “she writes that it will be around the twentieth: so I didn’t remember for joy.
- I heard, mother: Proshka said, but at first I didn’t make out what he was saying: I thought that he had already arrived; With joy, I was thrown into a sweat.
- God bless you, Anton Ivanovich, that you love us.
- Still not to love! Why, I carried Alexander Fedorych in my arms: it was the same as my own.
- Thank you, Anton Ivanovich: God will reward you! And I almost don’t sleep the next night and don’t let people sleep: it’s unequal to come, and we all sleep - it will be good! Yesterday and the third day I walked to the grove, and today I would go, but damn old age overcomes. At night, insomnia was exhausting. Sit down, Anton Ivanovich. Yes, you are all soaked: would you like to have a drink and breakfast? It may be too late to dine: we will wait for our dear guest.
- Well, have a bite to eat. And then I, to be honest, had breakfast.
- Where did you do it?
- And at the crossroads at Marya Karpovna he stopped. After all, they had to pass by: more for the horse than for himself: he gave her a rest. Is it a joke to wave twelve miles in the current heat! By the way, I ate there. It’s good that he didn’t listen: he didn’t stay, no matter how they kept him, otherwise a thunderstorm would have captured him there for the whole day.
- What, how is Marya Karpovna doing?
- God bless! bows to you.
- Thank you very much; and my daughter, Sofya Mikhailovna, with her hubby, what?
- Nothing, mother; already the sixth child in the campaign. Weeks through two expect. They asked me to visit around that time. And in their own house, poverty is such that they would not even look. Tell me, would it be up to the children? so no: right there!
- What do you!
- By God! in the chambers the jambs were all crooked; the floor just walks underfoot; flows through the roof. And there’s nothing to fix, but soup, cheesecakes and lamb will be served on the table - that’s all for you! But how diligently they call!
- There, for my Sashenka, she strove, such a crow!
- Where is she, mother, for such a falcon! I can't wait to take a look: tea, what a handsome man! I’m savvy, Anna Pavlovna: didn’t he get himself some princess or countess there, but isn’t he going to ask your blessing and invite you to the wedding?
- What are you, Anton Ivanovich! said Anna Pavlovna, thrilled with joy.
- Right!
– Ah! you, my dear, God bless you!.. Yes! it was out of my mind: I wanted to tell you, and I forgot: I think, I think, what it is, it just spins on the tongue; that's after all, what good, so it would have passed. Why don't you have breakfast first, or tell me now?
“It doesn’t matter, mother, even during breakfast: I won’t utter a single piece ... not a word, I mean.
“Well, then,” Anna Pavlovna began, when breakfast was brought and Anton Ivanovich sat down at the table, “and I see ...
"Well, aren't you going to eat yourself?" asked Anton Ivanovich.
- AND! before food am I now? I won't even get a piece down my throat; I haven't even finished my cup of tea. So I see in a dream that I seem to be sitting this way, and so, opposite me, Agrafena is standing with a tray. I say as if to her: “Well, they say, I say, do you have an empty tray, Agrafena?” - and she is silent, and she herself looks all at the door. “Oh, my mothers! - I think to myself in a dream, - why did she stare her eyes there? So I began to look ... I look: suddenly Sashenka comes in, so sad, came up to me and said, yes, as if in reality he says: “Goodbye, he says, mother, I’m going far, over there,” and pointed to the lake, - and more, he says, I will not come. “Where is it, my friend?” I ask, and my heart aches. He seems to be silent, but he looks at me so strangely and pitifully. "But where did you come from, my dear?" I feel like I'm asking again. And he, cordial, sighed and again pointed to the lake. “From the pool,” he said in a barely audible voice, “from the water ones.” I was so shaking all over - and woke up. My pillow is full of tears; and in reality I can’t come to my senses; I sit on the bed, and I myself cry, and I fill up, cry. As she got up, she now lit a lamp in front of the Mother of God of Kazan: perhaps she, our merciful intercessor, will save him from all sorts of troubles and misfortunes. Such a doubt brought, by golly! I can't figure out what that means? Would something happen to him? The storm is...
- It's good, mother, to cry in a dream: for good! - said Anton Ivanovich, breaking an egg on a plate, - there will certainly be tomorrow.
- And I was thinking whether we should go after breakfast to the grove, to meet him; somehow would have dragged; yes, after all, what kind of dirt has suddenly become.
- No, today will not be: I have a sign!
At that moment, the distant sounds of a bell were heard on the wind and suddenly stopped. Anna Pavlovna held her breath.
– Ah! she said, easing her chest with a sigh, “and I was thinking…
Suddenly again.
- Oh my God! no bell? she said and rushed to the balcony.
- No, - answered Anton Ivanovich, - this is a foal grazing nearby with a bell around its neck: I saw the road. I also scared him, otherwise I would have wandered into the rye. What do you not order to hobble?
Suddenly the bell rang as if under the very balcony and was filled with louder and louder.
- Ah, fathers! so it is: here, here it goes! It's him, he! cried Anna Pavlovna. - Ahah! Run, Anton Ivanovich! Where are people? Where is Agrafena? There is no one! .. as if he is going to someone else's house, my God!
She was completely lost. And the bell rang already as if in the room.
Anton Ivanovich jumped out from behind the table.
- He! he! - shouted Anton Ivanovich, - out and Yevsey on the goats! Where is your image, bread and salt? Give soon! What am I going to take out to him on the porch? How is it possible without bread and salt? there is a sign ... What a mess you have! nobody thought! But why are you yourself, Anna Pavlovna, are you standing, not going to meet you? Run faster!..
- I can not! - she said with difficulty, - her legs were paralyzed.
And with these words, she sank into a chair. Anton Ivanovich grabbed a piece of bread from the table, put it on a plate, put down a salt shaker, and was about to rush through the door.
“Nothing is ready! he grumbled.
But three footmen and two girls burst into the same doors towards him.
- It's coming! rides! I arrived! they shouted, pale, frightened, as if robbers had arrived.
Alexander followed them.
- Sashenka! you are my friend! .. - exclaimed Anna Pavlovna and suddenly stopped and looked in bewilderment at Alexander.
- Where is Sasha? she asked.
- Yes, it's me, mama! he answered, kissing her hand.
- You?
She looked at him intently.
Are you really my friend? she said and hugged him tightly. Then suddenly she looked at him again.
- What's wrong with you? Are you unwell? she asked anxiously, not releasing him from her embrace.
- Hey, mommy.
- Healthy! What happened to you, my dear? Is this how I let you go?
She pressed it to her heart and wept bitterly. She kissed him on the head, cheeks, eyes.
- Where are your hairs? how silk were! - she said through tears, - her eyes shone like two stars; cheeks - blood with milk; all of you were like a bulk apple! To know, dashing people have exhausted, envied your beauty and my happiness! What was your uncle watching? And she gave it from hand to hand, like a good person! Didn't know how to save the treasure! You are my dove!
The old woman wept and showered Alexander with caresses.
“It can be seen that tears in a dream are not good!” thought Anton Ivanovich.
- What are you, mother, screaming over him, as if over the dead? - he whispered, - it's not good, there is a sign.
- Hello, Alexander Fedorych! - he said, - God also brought me to see you in this world.
Alexander silently gave him his hand. Anton Ivanovich went to see if everything had been dragged out of the wagon, then he began to call the servants to greet the master. But everyone was already crowding in the anteroom and in the passage. He arranged everyone in order and taught how to greet someone: who to kiss the master’s hand, who’s shoulder, who only the floor of the dress, and what to say at the same time. He completely drove one guy away, telling him: “Go ahead, wash your face and wipe your nose.”
Yevsey, girded with a belt, covered in dust, greeted the servants; she surrounded him. He gave St. Petersburg gifts: someone a silver ring, someone a birch snuffbox. Seeing Agrafena, he stopped, as if petrified, and looked at her in silence, with stupid delight. She glanced at him sideways, frowningly, but immediately involuntarily betrayed herself: she laughed with joy, then started to cry, but suddenly turned away and frowned.
- Why are you keeping silent? - she said, - what a blockhead: and does not say hello!
But he couldn't say anything. He approached her with the same stupid smile. She barely let him hug her.
“I brought it not easy,” she said angrily, looking at him furtively from time to time; but in her eyes and in her smile the greatest joy was expressed. “Tea, did the St. Petersburg people ... wind up you and the master there?” Vish, what a mustache he has grown!
He took a small paper box out of his pocket and handed it to her. There were bronze earrings. Then he took out a package from the bag, in which a large handkerchief was wrapped.
She snatched it up and nimbly stuffed it, without looking, both into the cupboard.
"Show me the gifts, Agrafena Ivanovna," said some of the servants.
- Well, what is there to see? What hasn't been removed? Get out of here! What are you up to here? she shouted at them.
- And here's another! said Yevsey, handing her another package.
- Show me, show me! - Some have arrived.
Agrafena ripped open the paper, and several decks of played, but still almost new, cards fell out.
- I found something to bring! - said Agrafena, - do you think I only care what to play? how! Invented that: I will play with you!
She also hid the cards. An hour later Yevsey was again sitting in his old place, between the table and the stove.
- God! what peace! - he said, now squeezing, now stretching out his legs, - what's the matter here! And here, in St. Petersburg, it's just hard labor! Is there something to eat, Agrafena Ivanovna? Nothing has been eaten since the last station.
“Are you out of your habit yet?” On the! You see how he started; Apparently, you weren't fed at all there.
Alexander went through all the rooms, then through the garden, stopping at every bush, at every bench. His mother accompanied him. She, peering into his pale face, sighed, but was afraid to cry; she was frightened by Anton Ivanovich. She asked her son about life, but could not get the reason why he became thin, pale and where his hair had gone. She offered him food and drink, but he, refusing everything, said that he was tired from the road and wanted to sleep.
Anna Pavlovna looked to see if the bed was well made, scolded the girl, which was harsh, made her re-lay it with her, and did not leave until Alexander lay down. She went out on tiptoe, threatening people not to dare to speak and breathe aloud and go without boots. Then she ordered Yevsey to be sent to her. Agrafena came with him. Yevsey bowed at the lady's feet and kissed her hand.
- What happened to Sasha? she asked menacingly, - what did he look like - huh?
Yevsey was silent.
- Why are you silent? - said Agrafena, - do you hear, the lady asks you?
- Why did he lose weight? - said Anna Pavlovna, - where did his hairs go?
“I don’t know, madame! - said Yevsey, - lordly business!
- You can't know! What were you watching?
Yevsey did not know what to say, and remained silent.
- Found someone to believe, madam! - said Agrafena, looking lovingly at Yevsey, - it would be good for a man! What did you do there? Speak to the lady! Here it will be for you!
- Am I not zealous, madam! said Yevsey timidly, looking first at the mistress, then at Agrafena, “he served faithfully, if you please ask Arkhipych.
- Which Archipych?
- At the local janitor.
- You see, what a fence! Agrafena noted. - Why are you listening to him, ma'am! Lock him in a barn - that's what he would know!
“I’m ready not only for my masters to fulfill their master’s will,” continued Yevsey, “at least to die now!” I'll take the image off the wall...
- All of you are good in words! Anna Pavlovna said. - And how to do it, so you're not here! It can be seen that he looked after the master well: he allowed him, my dear, to lose his health! You watched! Here you will see me...
She threatened him.
“Didn’t I look, madame?” At the age of eight, only one shirt from the master's underwear disappeared, otherwise my worn-out ones are intact.
- Where did she disappear to? Anna Pavlovna asked angrily.
- The washerwoman disappeared. I then reported to Alexander Fedorych to deduct from her, but they said nothing.
“You see, the bastard,” Anna Pavlovna observed, “was seduced by some good underwear!
- How not to look! Yevsey continued. “God forbid everyone to do their job this way. They used to still deign to rest, and I run off to the bakery ...
What kind of buns did he eat?
- White, sir, good.
- I know that they are white; yes sweet?
- What a pole! - said Agrafena, - and he doesn’t know how to say a word, and even a Petersburger!
- Not at all, sir! - answered Yevsey, - Lenten.
- Lenten! oh you villain! murderer! robber! said Anna Pavlovna, blushing with anger. “Didn’t you think of some sweet buns to buy him?” but looked!
- Yes, madam, they did not order ...
- They didn't order it! It doesn't matter to him, my dear, no matter what you put in - he eats everything. And it didn't even occur to you? Have you forgotten that he ate all the sweet rolls here? Buy lean rolls! Is that right, did you take the money somewhere else? Here I am you! What else? speak...
“After they’ve had tea,” continued Yevsey, timidly, “they’ll go to office, and I’ll get my boots: I’ve been cleaning all morning, I’ll clean everything, sometimes three times; I'll take it off tonight and clean it up again. How, madam, I did not look: yes, I have never seen such boots from any of the gentlemen. Pyotr Ivanitch's are worse cleaned, even though there are three lackeys.
- Why is he like this? said Anna Pavlovna, softening somewhat.
- It must be from writing, madam.
- Did you write a lot?
- A lot, sir; everyday.
- What did he write? papers, or what?
- It must be papers, sir.
– Why didn’t you calm down?
- I calmed down, madam: “Don’t sit, they say, I say, Alexander Fedorych, if you please go for a walk: the weather is good, many gentlemen are walking. What is the writing? put a breast on: mama, they say, they will become angry ... "
- And what is he?
- “Go, they say, get out: you are a fool!”
- And a real fool! said Agrafena.
Yevsey glanced at her at the same time, then again continued to look at the mistress.
- Well, didn’t your uncle calm you down? Anna Pavlovna asked.
"Where to, ma'am!" they will come, but if they are found idle, they will pounce. “What do you say you don’t do anything? Here, they say, it's not a village, you have to work, they say, and not lie on your side! Everything, they say, is a dream! And then they choose...
- How will they choose?
- "Province ..." they say ... and they will go, and they will go ... they scold so much that sometimes they would not listen.
- So that it was empty! said Anna Pavlovna, spitting. - They would shoot their people, and they would scold them! What to appease, and he ... Lord, my God, the merciful king! she exclaimed, “who can you hope for now, if your relatives are worse than a wild beast?” The dog, and she takes care of her puppies, and then the uncle exhausted his own nephew! And you, such a fool, could not tell your uncle that he would not deign to bark at the master like that, but would roll away. He would shout at his wife, such a scoundrel! You see, I found someone to scold: “Work, work!” Himself would have circled over the work! Dog, right, dog, God forgive me! Kholopa found a job!
This was followed by silence.
- How long has Sashenka become so thin? she asked afterwards.
“Three years now,” answered Yevsey, “Alexander Fedorych began to be painfully bored and took little food; suddenly began to lose weight, lose weight, melted like a candle.
- Why did you miss it?
“God knows them, ma'am. Pyotr Ivanovich deigned to tell them something about it; I was listening, but surprisingly: I did not make out.
– What did he say?
Yevsey thought for a minute, apparently trying to remember something, and moved his lips.
- They called them something, but I forgot ...
Anna Pavlovna and Agrafena looked at him and waited impatiently for an answer.
“Well?” said Anna Pavlovna.
Yevsey was silent.
“Come on, spit it out, say something,” added Agrafena, “the lady is waiting.”
- Ra ... it seems, disappointed ... bathed ... - Yevsey finally uttered.
Anna Pavlovna looked in bewilderment at Agrafena, Agrafena at Yevsey, Yevsey at both of them, and everyone was silent.
- How? Anna Pavlovna asked.
- Razo ... disappointed, just like that, sir, I remembered! Yevsey answered in a decisive voice.
– What kind of misfortune is this? God! illness, right? Anna Pavlovna asked melancholy.
“Ah, is that not spoiled, madam?” Agrafena said hastily.
Anna Pavlovna turned pale and spat.
- To you pip on the tongue! - she said. – Did he go to church?
Yevsey hesitated a little.
“It’s impossible to say, madam, that they went painfully ...” he answered hesitantly, “it can almost be said that they didn’t go ... there, gentlemen, honor, they don’t go to church much ...
- That's why! said Anna Pavlovna with a sigh and crossed herself. – Apparently, only my prayers were not pleasing to God. The dream is not false: as if it had escaped from the pool, my dear!
Here came Anton Ivanovich.
"Dinner will get cold, Anna Pavlovna," he said, "isn't it time to wake up Alexander Fyodoritch?"
“No, no, God forbid! - she answered, - he did not order himself to be woken up. “Eat, he says, alone: ​​I have no appetite; I'll sleep better, he says: sleep will strengthen me; unless I want to in the evening. So here's what you do, Anton Ivanovich: don't be angry with me, old woman: I'll go and light the lamp and pray while Sashenka is resting; I have no time for food; and you eat alone.
- All right, mother, all right, I will do it: rely on me.
“Yes, do a good deed,” she continued, “you are our friend, you love us so much, call Yevsey and ask in a way why Sashenka became thoughtful and thin and where did his hairs go? You are a man: it is more agile for you ... did they upset him there? after all, there are such villains in the world ... find out everything.
- All right, mother, all right: I will try, I will find out all the ins and outs. Send Yevsey to me while I'm having dinner - I'll do everything!
- Hello, Yevsey! - he said, sitting down at the table and tucking a napkin into his tie, - how are you?
- Hello, sir. What is our life? bad-s. You've improved so much here.
Anton Ivanovich spat.
- Do not jinx it, brother: how long before sin? he added, and began to eat cabbage soup.
- Well, what are you doing there? - he asked.
- Yes, sir: it doesn’t hurt well.
“Tea, is the provisions good?” What did you eat?
- What? you take jelly and a cold pie in the shop - that's dinner!
- How, in a shop? and your oven?
“We didn’t cook at home. There, unmarried gentlemen do not keep a table.
- What you! said Anton Ivanovich, putting down the spoon.
- Right, sir: they also wore a gentleman from a tavern.
What a gypsy life! a! don't lose weight! Come on, have a drink!
- Thank you very much, sir! For your health!
Then silence followed. Anton Ivanovich ate.
- How much are the cucumbers? he asked, placing a cucumber on his plate.
- Forty kopecks tens.
- Is it full?
- By God, sir; why, sir, it’s shameful to say: sometimes they bring pickles from Moscow.
- Oh, my God! well! don't lose weight!
- Where can you see such a cucumber! Yevsey continued, pointing to one cucumber, “and you won’t see it in a dream!” trifle, rubbish: here they wouldn’t even look, but there the gentlemen are eating! In a rare house, sir, bread is baked. And this is there to store cabbage, salt beef, wet mushrooms - there is nothing in the plant.

- And from unaccustomed to a new order. You are not the only one: there are still backward ones; they are all sufferers. They are definitely pitiful; but what to do? It is impossible for a handful of people to stay behind and a whole mass. For everything you have just accused me of,” said Pyotr Ivanovich, after thinking, “I have one and the main justification: do you remember, when you came here, after a five-minute conversation with you, I advised you to go back? You didn't listen. Why are you attacking me now? I predicted to you that you would not get used to the real order of things, and you relied on my guidance, asked for advice ... spoke in a high style about modern successes mind, about the aspirations of mankind ... about the practical direction of the century - well, here you are! It was impossible for me to nurse you from morning to evening: what is my need? I could neither cover your mouth with a handkerchief at night from flies, nor baptize you. I told you business because you asked me to; and what came of it is none of my concern. You are not a child and not stupid: you can judge for yourself ... Here, what would you do your job, you either moan from the betrayal of a girl, then cry in separation from a friend, then you suffer from spiritual emptiness, then from the fullness of sensations; Well, what is this life? After all, this is torture! Look at today's youth: what a fine fellow! How everything boils with mental activity, energy, how deftly and easily they manage all this nonsense, which in your old language is called anxiety, suffering ... and the devil knows what else!

How easy it is for you to talk! - said Lizaveta Alexandrovna, - and you don't feel sorry for Alexander?

- Not. Now, if his lower back hurt, I would be sorry: this is not fiction, not a dream, not poetry, but real grief .. Oh!

- Teach me, uncle, at least what should I do now? How will you solve this problem with your mind?

- What to do? Yes ... go to the village.

- To the village! repeated Lizaveta Alexandrovna, “are you sane, Pyotr Ivanovich? What will he do there?

- To the village! Alexander repeated, and both looked at Pyotr Ivanitch.

- Yes, to the village: there you will see your mother, you will console her. You are looking for a quiet life: here everything worries you; and where it is quieter, if not there, on the lake, with your aunt ... Really, go! Who knows? maybe you and that ... Oh!

He grabbed his back.

Two weeks later, Alexander retired and came to say goodbye to his uncle and aunt. Aunt and Alexander were sad and silent. Lizaveta Alexandrovna had tears in her eyes. Pyotr Ivanovich spoke alone.

- No career, no fortune! he said, shaking his head, “it was worth coming! shamed the Aduev family!

“Come on, Pyotr Ivanovich,” said Lizaveta Alexandrovna, “you are tired of your career.

- How, my dear, nothing can be done at the age of eight!

“Goodbye, uncle,” said Alexander. Thank you for everything, for everything...

- My pleasure! Farewell, Alexander! Do you need money for the journey?

- No, thank you: I will.

- What is it, never take! it finally pisses me off. Well, with God, with God.

“And you don’t regret parting with him?” said Lizaveta Alexandrovna.

- Mm! - Pyotr Ivanovich mumbled, - I ... got used to him. Remember, Alexander, that you have an uncle and a friend - do you hear? and if you need service, employment and despicable metal, feel free to contact me: you will always find both, and the other, and the third.

“And if you need participation,” said Lizaveta Alexandrovna, “consolation in grief, warm, reliable friendship ...

"And sincere outpourings," added Pyotr Ivanovich.

- ... so remember, - continued Lizaveta Alexandrovna, - that you have an aunt and a friend.

- Well, this, my dear, is not to be occupied in the village: everything is there: flowers, and love, and outpourings, and even an aunt.

Alexander was moved; he couldn't say a word. Saying goodbye to his uncle, he extended his arms to him, although not as lively as eight years ago. Pyotr Ivanovich did not embrace him, but only took him by both hands and shook them tighter than eight years before. Lizaveta Alexandrovna burst into tears.

- Wow! mountain from the shoulders, thank God! - said Pyotr Ivanovich, when Alexander left, - as if the lower back became easier!

- What did he do to you? wife said through her tears.

- What? just torment: worse than with the factory ones: if they make a fool of them, you will cut them; and what are you going to do with it?

The aunt cried all day, and when Pyotr Ivanovich asked for dinner, he was told that the table had not been prepared, that the lady had locked herself in her study and did not receive the cook.

- All Alexander! - said Pyotr Ivanovich. - What kind of flour with him!

He grumbled and grumbled and went to dinner at an English club.

Early in the morning the stagecoach slowly trudged out of the city and took away Alexander Fedorych and Yevsey.

Alexander, sticking his head out of the carriage window, did his best to tune himself into a sad tone, and finally mentally resolved into a monologue.

We passed by couriers, dentists, milliners, and gentlemen's chambers. “Farewell,” he said, shaking his head and clutching at his thin hair, “farewell, city of fake hair, false teeth, cotton imitations of nature, round hats, city of suave arrogance, artificial feelings, lifeless bustle! Farewell, magnificent tomb of deep, strong, gentle and warm movements of the soul. I have stood here for eight years, face to face with modern life but with my back to nature, and she turned away from me: I lost vitality and grew old at twenty-nine; and there was a time...

Farewell, farewell city

Where I suffered, where I loved

Where I buried my heart.

I extend my arms to you, wide fields, to you, blessed villages and pastures of my homeland: take me into your bosom, may I come to life and resurrect in soul!

Here he read a poem by Pushkin: "The artist is a barbarian with a sleepy brush", etc., wiped his wet eyes and hid in the depths of the carriage.

The morning was beautiful. The lake in the village of Grachi, familiar to the reader, was slightly rippling from a light swell. Eyes involuntarily pinched from the dazzling brilliance of the sun's rays, sparkling now with diamond, now with emerald sparks in the water. Weeping birches bathed their branches in the lake, and in some places the banks were overgrown with sedge, in which large yellow flowers hid, resting on wide floating leaves. Light clouds sometimes ran into the sun; suddenly it seems to turn away from the Rooks; then the lake, and the grove, and the village - everything will instantly darken; one distance shines brightly. The cloud will pass - the lake will shine again, the fields will shed like gold.

Anna Pavlovna has been sitting on the balcony since five o'clock. What caused it: sunrise, fresh air or the singing of a lark? Not! she does not take her eyes off the road that goes through the grove. Agrafena came to ask for the keys. Anna Pavlovna did not look at her, and without taking her eyes off the road, handed over the keys and did not even ask why. The cook appeared: she, also without looking at him, gave him many orders. The other day the table was ordered for ten people.

Anna Pavlovna was left alone again. Suddenly her eyes sparkled; all the strength of her soul and body passed into vision: something blackened on the road. Someone is driving, but quietly, slowly. Oh! it's a cart coming down the mountain. Anna Pavlovna frowned.

“Here’s someone who was not easy! she grumbled, “no, to go around; everyone jumps in here.

With displeasure, she sank back into her chair and again, with trembling expectation, fixed her eyes on the grove, not noticing anything around. And there was something to notice around: the scenery began to change significantly. The midday air, heated by the sultry rays of the sun, became stuffy and heavy. So the sun hid. It became dark. And the forest, and distant villages, and grass - everything was clothed in an indifferent, some kind of ominous color.

Anna Pavlovna woke up and looked up. My God! From the west stretched, like a living monster, a black, ugly spot with a copper tint along the edges and quickly approached the village and the grove, stretching like huge wings on the sides. Everything has become desolate in nature. The cows lowered their heads; the horses fanned their tails, flared their nostrils and snorted, shaking their manes. The dust under their hooves did not rise up, but crumbled heavily, like sand, under the wheels. The cloud was moving ominously. Soon a distant rumble slowly rolled over.

Everything was silent, as if waiting for something unprecedented. Where did these birds go, which so briskly fluttered and sang in the sun? Where are the insects that buzzed so variously in the grass? Everything was hidden and silent, and soulless objects seemed to share the ominous foreboding. The trees stopped swaying and touching each other with boughs; they straightened up; only from time to time they leaned their tops towards each other, as if mutually warning themselves in a whisper about imminent danger. A cloud has already overlaid the horizon and formed some kind of leaden, impenetrable vault. Everyone in the village tried to get home on time. There was a moment of general, solemn silence. A fresh breeze swept from the forest like an advanced herald, breathed coolness into the face of the traveler, rustled through the leaves, slammed the gate in the hut in passing, and, turning the dust in the street, died down in the bushes. A stormy whirlwind rushes after him, slowly moving a column of dust along the road; here he burst into the village, threw off several rotten boards from the fence, demolished the thatched roof, raised the skirt of a peasant woman carrying water and drove roosters and hens along the street, fanning their tails.

Rushed. Again silence. Everything is fussing and hiding; only a stupid ram does not foresee anything: he indifferently chews his cud, standing in the middle of the street, and looks in one direction, not understanding the general alarm; Yes, a feather with a straw, circling along the road, is trying to keep up with the whirlwind.

Two, three large drops of rain fell - and suddenly lightning flashed. The old man got up from the mound and hurriedly led the little grandchildren to the hut; the old woman, crossing herself, hastily closed the window.

Thunder roared and, drowning out the human noise, solemnly, regally rolled through the air. The frightened horse broke away from the hitching post and rushes with a rope into the field; the peasant pursues him in vain. And the rain just pours and cuts, more and more often, and crushes into the roofs and windows harder and harder. A little white hand timidly sticks out an object of tender cares - flowers - onto the balcony.

At the first clap of thunder, Anna Pavlovna crossed herself and left the balcony.

“No, there’s nothing to look forward to today,” she said with a sigh, “because of the storm I’ve stopped somewhere, except towards night.”

Suddenly, the sound of wheels was heard, only not from the grove, but from the other side. Someone entered the yard. Adueva's heart sank.

“How is it from there? she thought, didn't he want to come secretly? No, it's not a road."

She didn't know what to think; but soon everything was explained. A minute later Anton Ivanovich entered. His hair was silver with grey; he himself grew fat; cheeks swollen from inactivity and overeating. He was wearing the same frock coat, the same wide pantaloons.

“I’ve been waiting for you, waiting for you, Anton Ivanovich,” Anna Pavlovna began, “I thought you wouldn’t be, I was in despair.

- It's a sin to think! to someone else, mother - so! you won’t get me to anyone ... but not to you. I lingered through no fault of my own: after all, I now ride on one horse.

– What is it? Anna Pavlovna asked absently, moving towards the window.

The morning was beautiful. The lake in the village of Hrachi slightly rippled from a slight swell. Eyes involuntarily pinched from the dazzling brilliance of the sun's rays, sparkling now with diamond, now with emerald sparks in the water. Weeping birches bathed their branches in the lake, and in some places the banks were overgrown with sedge, in which large yellow flowers resting on wide floating leaves. The sun was sometimes covered with light clouds. Suddenly it seems to turn away from the Rooks. Then the lake, and the grove, and the village - everything will instantly darken, only the distance shines brightly. The cloud will pass - the lake will shine again, the fields will shed like gold.

The scenery began to change significantly. The midday air, heated by the sultry rays of the sun, became stuffy and heavy. Here the sun is hidden. It became dark. And the forest, and distant villages, and grass - everything was clothed in an indifferent, some kind of ominous color.

From the west stretched, like a living monster, a black, ugly spot with a copper sheen along the edges and quickly approached the village and the grove, stretching like huge wings on the sides. Everything is dreary in nature. The cows lowered their heads; the horses fanned their tails, flared their nostrils and snorted, shaking their manes. The dust under their hooves did not rise up, but crumbled heavily, like sand, under the wheels. The cloud was moving ominously. Soon a distant rumble slowly rolled over.

Everything was silent, as if waiting for something unprecedented. Where did these birds go, which so briskly fluttered and sang in the sun? Where are the insects that buzzed so variously in the grass? Everything was hidden and silent, and soulless objects seemed to share the ominous foreboding. The trees stopped swaying and touching each other with boughs; they straightened up; only from time to time they leaned their tops towards each other, as if mutually warning themselves in a whisper about imminent danger. A cloud has already overlaid the horizon and formed some kind of impenetrable lead vault. Everyone in the village tried to get home on time. There was a moment of general, solemn silence. Here, from the forest, like an advanced messenger, a fresh breeze swept, breathed coolness into the face of the traveler, rustled through the leaves, slammed the gate in the hut in passing, swirled dust in the street and died down in the bushes. A stormy whirlwind rushes after him, slowly moving a column of dust along the road. Here he burst into the village, threw down several rotten boards from the fence, demolished the thatched roof, raised the skirt of a peasant woman carrying water and drove roosters and hens along the street, fanning their tails.

Rushed. Again silence. Everything fusses and hides; only a stupid ram does not foresee anything. He indifferently chews his gum, standing in the middle of the street, and looks in one direction, not understanding the general anxiety. A feather with a straw, circling along the road, is trying to keep up with the whirlwind.

Two, three large drops of rain fell - and suddenly lightning flashed. The old man got up from the mound and hurriedly led the little grandchildren to the hut. The old woman crossed herself hastily closed the window.

Thunder roared and, drowning out the human noise, solemnly, regally rolled through the air. The frightened horse broke away from the hitching post and rushes with a rope into the field; the peasant pursues him in vain. And the rain just pours, and cuts, more and more often, and knocks on the roofs and windows harder and harder.