Anna
Sergyevna
gave him some drink: not taking off her
glove, and drawing her breath timorously.
glove, and drawing her breath timorously.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v25 - Tas to Tur
I'm not quite
certain even now whether I'm expressing myself clearly. While
I've been lying here, I've kept fancying red dogs were running
round me, while you were making them point at me, as if I
were a woodcock. Just as if I were drunk. Do you understand
me all right? "
"I assure you, Yevgeny, you are talking perfectly correctly. "
"All the better. You told me you'd sent for the doctor. You
did that to comfort yourself; - comfort me too: send a messen-
ger
— »
"To Arkady Nikolaitch? " put in the old man.
"Who's Arkady Nikolaitch? " said Bazarov, as though in
doubt. "Oh, yes! that chicken! No, let him alone: he's turned
jackdaw now. Don't be surprised: that's not delirium yet. You
send a messenger to Madame Odintsov, Anna Sergyevna; she's
a lady with an estate. Do you know? " (Vassily Ivanovitch
nodded. ) "Yevgeny Bazarov, say, sends his greetings, and sends
word he is dying. Will you do that? "
"Yes, I will do it. But is it a possible thing for you to die,
Yevgeny? Think only! Where would divine justice be after
that? "
"I know nothing about that; only you send the messenger. "
"I'll send this minute, and I'll write a letter myself. "
"No, why? Say I sent greetings; nothing more is necessary.
And now I'll go back to my dogs. Strange! I want to fix my
thoughts on death, and nothing comes of it. I see a kind of blur
and nothing more. "
-
He turned painfully back to the wall again; while Vassily
Ivanovitch went out of the study, and struggling as far as his
wife's bedroom, simply dropped down on to his knees before the
holy pictures.
«Pray, Arina, pray for us! " he moaned: "our son is dying. "
The doctor-the same district doctor who had had no caus-
tic-arrived; and after looking at the patient, advised them to
persevere with a cooling treatment, and at that point said a few
words of the chance of recovery.
"Have you ever chanced to see people in my state not set
off for Elysium? " asked Bazarov; and suddenly snatching the leg
of a heavy table that stood near his sofa, he swung it round,
## p. 15071 (#659) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15071
and pushed it away. "There's strength, there's strength," he
murmured; - "everything's here still, and I must die! An old
man at least has time to be weaned from life, but I- Well, go
and try to disprove death. Death will disprove you, and that's
all! Who's crying there? " he added, after a short pause.
"Mother? Poor thing! Whom will she feed now with her
exquisite beet-root soup? You, Vassily Ivanovitch, whimpering
too, I do believe! Why, if Christianity's no help to you, be a
philosopher, a Stoic, or what not! Why, didn't you boast you
were a philosopher? »
"Me a philosopher! " wailed Vassily Ivanovitch, while the
tears fairly streamed down his cheeks.
Bazarov got worse every hour; the progress of the disease
was rapid, as is usually the way in cases of surgical poisoning.
He still had not lost consciousness, and understood what was said
to him; he was still struggling. "I don't want to lose my wits,"
he muttered, clenching his fists: "what rot it all is! " And at
once he would say, "Come, take ten from eight, what remains ? »
Vassily Ivanovitch wandered about like one possessed; proposed
first one remedy, then another; and ended by doing nothing but
cover up his son's feet. "Try cold pack-emetic-mustard plas-
ters on the stomach - bleeding," he would murmur with an effort.
The doctor, whom he had entreated to remain, agreed with him;
ordered the patient lemonade to drink; and for himself asked for
a pipe, and something "warming and strengthening," — that is to
say, brandy. Arina Vlasyevna sat on a low stool near the door,
and only went out from time to time to pray. A few days
before, a looking-glass had slipped out of her hands and been
broken, and this she had always considered an omen of evil; even
Anfisushka could say nothing to her. Timofeitch had gone off
-
to Madame Odintsov's.
That night passed badly for Bazarov. He was in the agonies
of high fever. Towards morning he was a little easier. He
asked for Arina Vlasyevna to comb his hair, kissed her hand,
and swallowed two gulps of tea. Vassily Ivanovitch revived a
little.
"Thank God! " he kept declaring; "the crisis is coming, the
crisis is at hand! "
"There, to think now," murmured Bazarov, "what a word
can do! He's found it; he's said 'crisis,' and is comforted. It's
an astounding thing how man believes in words. If he's told
he's a fool, for instance, though he's not thrashed, he'll be
## p. 15072 (#660) ##########################################
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IVAN TURGENEFF
wretched; call him a clever fellow, and he'll be delighted if you
go off without paying him. ”
This little speech, of Bazarov's, recalling his old retorts, moved
Vassily Ivanovitch greatly.
"Bravo! well said, very good! " he cried, making as though
he were clapping his hands.
Bazarov smiled mournfully.
"So what do you think," he said: "is the crisis over, or com-
ing? "
You are better, that's what I see; that's what rejoices me,”
answered Vassily Ivanovitch.
"Well, that's good: rejoicings never come amiss.
do you remember? did you send? "
"To be sure I did. "
-
The change for the better did not last long. The disease
resumed its onslaughts. Vassily Ivanovitch was sitting by Baza-
rov. It seemed as though the old man were tormented by some
special anguish. He was several times on the point of speaking
and could not.
"Yevgeny! " he brought out at last; "my son, my one dear
And to her,
-
son! "
This unfamiliar mode of address produced an effect on Baza-
rov. He turned his head a little, and obviously trying to fight
against the load of oblivion weighing upon him, he articulated,
"What is it, father? "
"Yevgeny," Vassily Ivanovitch went on, and he fell on his
knees before Bazarov, though the latter had closed his eyes
and could not see him. "Yevgeny, you are better now: please
God, you will get well; but make use of this time,-comfort
your mother and me, perform the duty of a Christian! What
it means for me to say this to you-it's awful; but still more
awful for ever and ever, Yevgeny-think a little, what - "
The old man's voice broke; and a strange look passed over
his son's face, though he still lay with closed eyes.
"I won't refuse, if that can be any comfort to you," he
brought out at last; "but it seems to me there's no need to be
in a hurry. You say yourself I am better. "
"Oh, yes, Yevgeny, better certainly; but who knows? it is all
in God's hands, and in doing the duty-"
"No, I will wait a bit," broke in Bazarov. "I agree with you
that the crisis has come. And if we're mistaken, well! they give
the sacrament to men who're unconscious, you know. "
## p. 15073 (#661) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15073
"Yevgeny, I beg-»
"I'll wait a little. And now I want to go to sleep. Don't
disturb me. " And he laid his head back on the pillow.
The old man rose from his knees, sat down in the arm-chair,
and clutching his beard, began biting his own fingers.
The sound of a light carriage on springs-that sound which
is peculiarly impressive in the wilds of the country-suddenly
struck upon his hearing. Nearer and nearer rolled the light
wheels; now even the neighing of the horses could be heard.
Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up and ran to the little window. There
drove into the court-yard of his little house a carriage with seats
for two, with four horses harnessed abreast. Without stopping
to consider what it could mean, with a rush of a sort of sense-
less joy, he ran out on to the steps. A groom in livery was
opening the carriage doors; a lady in a black veil and a black
mantle was getting out of it.
"I am Madame Odintsov," she said. "Yevgeny Vassilyitch is
still living? You are his father? I have a doctor with me. "
"Benefactress! " cried Vassily Ivanovitch; and snatching her
hand, he pressed it convulsively to his lips; while the doctor
brought by Anna Sergyevna, a little man in spectacles, of Ger-
man physiognomy, stepped very deliberately out of the carriage.
"Still living, my Yevgeny is living, and now he will be saved!
Wife! wife! An angel from heaven has come to us. "
"What does it mean, good Lord! " faltered the old woman,
running out of the drawing-room; and comprehending nothing,
she fell on the spot at Anna Sergyevna's feet, in the passage, and
began kissing her garments like a mad woman.
"What are you doing! " protested Anna Sergyevna; but Arina
Vlasyevna did not heed her, while Vassily Ivanovitch could only
repeat, "An angel! an angel! "
"Wo ist der Kranke? [where is the patient? ]" said the doc-
tor at last, with some impatience.
Vassily Ivanovitch recovered himself.
"Here, here; - follow
me, würdigster Herr Collega," he added through old associations.
"Ah! " articulated the German, grinning sourly.
Vassily Ivanovitch led him into the study. "The doctor from
Anna Sergyevna Odintsov," he said, bending down quite to his
son's ear, "and she herself is here. "
Bazarov suddenly opened his eyes. "What did you say? "
"I say that Anna Sergyevna is here; and has brought this
gentleman, a doctor, to you. "
XXV-945
## p. 15074 (#662) ##########################################
15074
IVAN TURGENEFF
Bazarov moved his eyes about him.
see her. "
man.
"You shall see her, Yevgeny; but first we must have a little
talk with the doctor. I will tell him the whole history of your
illness, since Sidor Sidoritch" (this was the name of the district
doctor) "has gone; and we will have a little consultation. ”
Bazarov glanced at the German. "Well, talk away quickly,
only not in Latin: you see, I know the meaning of jam moritur. »
"Der Herr scheint des Deutschen mächtig zu sein," began the
new follower of Esculapius, turning to Vassily Ivanovitch.
"Ich-gabe- We had better speak Russian," said the old
"She is here? I want to
"Ah, ah! so that's how it is. To be sure
sultation began.
Half an hour later, Anna Sergyevna, conducted by Vassily
Ivanovitch, came into the study. The doctor had had time to
whisper to her that it was hopeless even to think of the patient's
-
Vassily Ivanovitch went out.
"Well, thanks," repeated Bazarov.
>>>
And the con-
recovery.
She looked at Bazarov-and stood still in the doorway; so
greatly was she impressed by the inflamed and at the same time
deathly face, with its dim eyes fastened upon her. She felt sim-
ply dismayed, with a sort of cold and suffocating dismay: the
thought that she would not have felt like that if she had really
loved him flashed instantaneously through her brain.
"Thanks," he said painfully: "I did not expect this.
It's a
deed of mercy. So we have seen each other again, as you prom-
ised. "
"Anna Sergyevna has been so kind," began Vassily Ivanovitch.
"Father, leave us alone. Anna Sergyevna, you will allow it,
I fancy, now? "
With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless
frame.
"This is royally done.
Monarchs, they say, visit the dying too. "
"Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I hope-»
"Ah, Anna Sergyevna, let us speak the truth. It's all over
with me. I'm under the wheel. So it turns out that it was use-
less to think of the future. Death's an old joke, but it comes
fresh to every one. So far I'm not afraid- but there, senseless-
ness is coming, and then it's all up! " he waved his hand feebly.
"Well, what had to say to you? I loved you! There was no
## p. 15075 (#663) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15075
sense in that even before, and less than ever now. Love is a
form, and my own form is already breaking up. Better say how
lovely you are! And now here you stand, so beautiful-» Anna
Sergyevna gave an involuntary shudder. "Never mind, don't be
uneasy. Sit down there. Don't come close to me: you know my
illness is catching. "
Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in
the arm-chair near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying.
"Noble-hearted! " he whispered. "Oh, how near, and how
young, and fresh, and pure—in this loathsome room! Well, good-
by! live long,-that's the best of all,-and make the most of it
while there is time. You see what a hideous spectacle: the worm
half crushed, but writhing still. And you see, I thought too, I'd
break down so many things: I wouldn't die- why should I! -
there were problems to solve, and I was a giant! And now all
the problem for the giant is, how to die decently-though that
makes no difference to any one either. Never mind: I'm not
going to turn tail. ”
Bazarov was silent, and began feeling with his hand for the
glass.
Anna Sergyevna gave him some drink: not taking off her
glove, and drawing her breath timorously.
"You will forget me," he began again: "the dead's no com-
panion for the living. My father will tell you what a man Rus-
sia is losing. That's nonsense, but don't contradict the old man.
Whatever toy will comfort the child-you know. And be kind
to mother. People like them aren't to be found in your great
world if you look by daylight with a candle. I was needed by
Russia. No, it's clear, I wasn't needed. And who is needed?
The shoemaker's needed, the tailor's needed, the butcher - gives
us meat - the butcher wait a little, I'm getting mixed. There's
a forest here — "
Bazarov put his hand to his brow.
Anna Sergyevna bent down to him.
am here- »
―
―――――
"Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I
He at once took his hand away, and raised himself.
"Good-bye," he said with sudden force, and his eyes gleamed.
with their last light. "Good-bye. Listen-you know I didn't
kiss you then. Breathe on the dying lamp, and let it go out. "
Anna Sergyevna put her lips to his forehead.
"Enough! " he murmured, and dropped back on to the pillow.
"Now-darkness — "
## p. 15076 (#664) ##########################################
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IVAN TURGENEFF
Anna Sergyevna went softly out. "Well? " Vassily Ivano-
vitch asked her in a whisper.
"He has fallen asleep," she answered, scarce audibly. Baza-
rov was not fated to awaken.
Towards evening he sank into
complete unconsciousness, and the following day he died. Father
Alexey performed the last rites of religion over him. When they
anointed him with the last unction, when the holy oil touched his
breast, one eye opened; and it seemed as though at the sight of
the priest in his vestments, the smoking censers, the light before
the image, something like a shudder of horror passed over the
death-stricken face. When at last he had breathed his last, and
there arose a universal lamentation in the house, Vassily Ivan-
ovitch was seized by a sudden frenzy. "I said I should rebel,"
he shrieked hoarsely, with his face inflamed and distorted, shak-
ing his fist in the air, as though threatening some one; "and I
rebel, I rebel! " But Arina Vlasyevna, all in tears, hung upon
his neck, and both fell on their faces together.
"Side by
side,” Anfisushka related afterwards in the servants' room, "they
drooped their poor heads like lambs at noonday. "
But the heat of noonday passes, and evening comes and night;
and then too the return to the kindly refuge, where sleep is
sweet for the weary and heavy-laden.
LAVRETSKY
From A House of Gentlefolk
Α
ND SO-eight years have passed by. Once more the breezes
of spring breathed brightness and rejoicing from the heav-
ens; once more spring was smiling upon the earth and
upon men; once more under her caresses everything was turning
to blossom, to love, to song. The town of O- had undergone
little change in the course of these eight years: but Marfa
Dmitrievna's house seemed to have grown younger; its freshly
painted walls gave a bright welcome, and the panes of its open
windows were crimson, shining in the setting sun; from these
windows the light merry sound of ringing young voices and con-
tinual laughter floated into the street; the whole house seemed
astir with life and brimming over with gayety. The lady of the
house herself had long been in her tomb; Marya Dmitrievna had
## p. 15077 (#665) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15077
died two years after Lisa took the veil, and Marfa Timofyevna
had not long survived her niece; they lay side by side in the
cemetery of the town. Nastasya Karpovna too was no more. For
several years the faithful old woman had gone every week to say
a prayer over her friend's ashes: her time had come, and now
her bones too lay in the damp earth. But Marya Dmitrievna's
house had not passed into strangers' hands; it had not gone out
of her family; the home had not been broken up. Lenotchka,
transformed into a slim, beautiful young girl; and her betrothed
lover, a fair-haired officer of hussars; Marya Dmitrievna's son,
who had just been married in Petersburg and had come with his
young wife for the spring to O—; his wife's sister, a school-
girl of sixteen, with glowing cheeks and bright eyes; Shurotchka,
grown up and also pretty,-made up the youthful household,
whose laughter and talk set the walls of the Kalitins's house
resounding. Everything in the house was changed; everything
was in keeping with its new inhabitants. Beardless servant lads,
grinning and full of fun, had replaced the sober old servants of
former days. Two setter dogs dashed wildly about and gamboled
over the sofas, where the fat Roska had at one time waddled
in solemn dignity. The stables were filled with slender racers,
spirited carriage horses, fiery outriders with plaited manes, and
riding-horses from the Don. The breakfast, dinner, and supper
hours were all in confusion and disorder; in the words of the
neighbors, "unheard-of arrangements" were made.
On the evening of which we are speaking, the inhabitants of
the Kalitins's house (the eldest of them, Lenotchka's betrothed,
was only twenty-four) were engaged in a game, which, though
not of a very complicated nature, was, to judge from their merry
laughter, exceedingly entertaining to them,- they were running
about the rooms chasing one another; the dogs too were running
and barking; and the canaries, hanging in cages above the win-
dows, were straining their throats in rivalry, and adding to the
general uproar by the shrill trilling of their piercing notes. At the
very height of this deafening merry-making, a mud-bespattered
carriage stopped at the gate; and a man of five-and-forty, in a
traveling dress, stepped out of it, and stood still in amazement.
He stood a little time without stirring, watching the house with
attentive eyes; then went through the little gate in the court-
yard, and slowly mounted the steps. In the hall he met no one:
but the door of a room was suddenly flung open, and out of it
## p. 15078 (#666) ##########################################
15078
IVAN TURGENEFF
rushed Shurotchka, flushed and hot; and instantly, with a ring-
ing shout, all the young party in pursuit of her. They stopped
short at once, and were quiet, at the sight of a stranger; but
their clear eyes fixed on him wore the same friendly expression,
and their fresh faces were still smiling as Marya Dmitrievna's
son went up to the visitor, and asked him cordially what he could
do for him.
"I am Lavretsky," replied the visitor.
He was answered by a shout of friendliness; and not because
these young people were greatly delighted at the arrival of a dis-
tant, almost forgotten, relation, but simply because they were
ready to be delighted and make a noise at every opportunity.
They surrounded Lavretsky at once; Lenotchka, as an old ac-
quaintance, was the first to call him by his name, and assured
him that in a little while she would certainly have recognized
him. She presented him to the rest of the party, calling each,
even her betrothed, by their pet names. They all trooped through
the dining-room into the drawing-room. The walls of both
rooms had been repapered; but the furniture remained the same.
Lavretsky recognized the piano; even the embroidery frame in
the window was just the same, and in the same position, and it
seemed with the same unfinished embroidery on it, as eight years
ago.
They made him sit down in a comfortable arm-chair; all sat
down politely in a circle round him. Questions, exclamations, and
anecdotes followed.
"It's a long time since we have seen you," observed Le-
notchka simply, "and Varvara Pavlovna we have seen nothing
of either. "
"Well, no wonder! " her brother hastened to interpose: "I car-
ried you off to Petersburg, and Fedor Ivan'itch has been living
all the time in the country. "
"Yes, and mamma died soon after then. "
"And Marfa Timofyevna," observed Shurotchka.
"And Nastasya Karpovna," added Lenotchka, "and Monsieur
Lemm. "
"What? is Lemm dead? " inquired Lavretsky.
"Yes," replied young Kalitin, "he left here for Odessa - they
say some one enticed him there; and there he died. "
"You don't happen to know-did he leave any music?
"I don't know; not very likely. "
## p. 15079 (#667) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15079
A slight cloud of
All were silent and looked about them.
melancholy flitted over all the young faces.
"But Matross is alive," said Lenotchka suddenly.
"And Gedeonovsky," added her brother.
At Gedeonovsky's name a merry laugh broke out at once.
"Yes, he is alive, and as great a liar as ever," Marya Dmi-
trievna's son continued; "and only fancy, yesterday this madcap "
-pointing to the schoolgirl, his wife's sister-"put some pepper
in his snuff-box. "
"How he did sneeze! " cried Lenotchka; and again there was
a burst of unrestrained laughter.
"We have had news of Lisa lately," observed young Kalitin,
and again a hush fell upon all: "there was good news of her;
she is recovering her health a little now. "
"She is still in the same convent? " Lavretsky asked, not
without some effort.
"Yes, still in the same. "
"Does she write to you? "
<< No, never; but we get news through other people. "
A sudden and profound silence followed. "A good angel is
passing by," all were thinking.
"Wouldn't you like to go into the garden? " said Kalitin,
turning to Lavretsky: "it is very nice now, though we have let
it run wild a little. "
___________
Lavretsky went out into the garden, and the first thing that
met his eyes was the very garden seat on which he had once
spent with Lisa those few blissful moments, never repeated. It
had grown black and warped; but he recognized it, and his soul
was filled with that emotion unequaled for sweetness and for
bitterness, the emotion of keen sorrow for vanished youth, for
the happiness which has once been possessed. He walked along
the avenues with the young people: the lime-trees looked hardly
older or taller in the eight years, but their shade was thicker; on
the other hand, all the bushes had sprung up, the raspberry
bushes had grown strong, the hazels were a tangled thicket, and
from all sides rose the fresh scent of the trees and grass and
lilac.
"This would be a nice place for Puss-in-the-Corner," cried
Lenotchka suddenly, as they came upon a small green lawn, sur-
rounded by lime-trees; "and we are just five, too. "
"Have you forgotten Fedor Ivan'itch? " replied her brother,
"or didn't you count yourself? "
## p. 15080 (#668) ##########################################
15080
IVAN TURGENEFF
Lenotchka blushed slightly.
she began.
"But would Fedor Ivan'itch, at his age-
"Please play your games," Lavretsky hastened to interpose;
"don't pay attention to me. I shall be happier myself when I
am sure I am not in your way. And there's no need for you to
entertain me: we old fellows have an occupation you know noth-
ing of yet, and which no amusement can replace—our memories. »
The young people listened to Lavretsky with polite but rather
ironical respect,- as though a teacher were giving them a les-
son, and suddenly they all dispersed and ran to the lawn; four
stood near trees, one in the middle, and the game began.
And Lavretsky went back into the house, went into the dining-
room, drew near the piano and touched one of the keys; it gave
out a faint but clear sound: on that note had begun the inspired
melody with which long ago on that same happy night Lemm,
the dead Lemm, had thrown him into such transports. Then
Lavretsky went into the drawing-room, and for a long time he did
not leave it: in that room where he had so often seen Lisa, her
image rose most vividly before him; he seemed to feel the traces
of her presence round him: but his grief for her was crushing,
not easy to bear, it had none of the peace which comes with
death. Lisa still lived somewhere, hidden and afar; he thought
of her as of the living, but he did not recognize the girl he had
once loved in that dim, pale shadow, cloaked in a nun's dress
and encircled in misty clouds of incense. Lavretsky would not
have recognized himself, could he have looked at himself as
mentally he looked at Lisa. In the course of these eight years
he had passed that turning-point in life which many never pass,
but without which no one can be a good man to the end: he
had really ceased to think of his own happiness, of his personal
aims. He had grown calm, and-why hide the truth? - he had
grown old not only in face and in body, he had grown old in
heart. To keep a young heart up to old age, as some say, is
not only difficult, but almost ridiculous: he may well be content
who has not lost his belief in goodness, his steadfast will, and
his zeal for work. Lavretsky had good reason to be content: he
had become actually an excellent farmer, he had really learnt to
cultivate the land, and his labors were not only for himself,—
he had, to the best of his powers, secured on a firm basis the
welfare of his peasants.
-
Lavretsky went out of the house into the garden, and sat
down on the familiar garden seat. And on this loved spot, facing
## p. 15081 (#669) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15081
the house where for the last time he had vainly stretched out
his hand for the enchanted cup which frothed and sparkled with
the golden wine of delight, he, a solitary homeless wanderer,
looked back upon his life; while the joyous shouts of the younger
generation, who were already filling his place, floated across the
garden to him. His heart was sad, but not weighed down nor
bitter: much there was to regret, nothing to be ashamed of.
"Play away, be gay, grow strong, vigorous youth! " he
thought—and there was no bitterness in his meditations: "your
life is before you, and for you life will be easier; you have
not, as we had, to find out a path for yourselves, to struggle, to
fall, and to rise again in the dark; we had enough to do to last
out, and how many of us did not last out? - but you need
only do your duty, work away, and the blessing of an old man
be with you. For me, after to-day, after these emotions, there
remains to take my leave at last; and though sadly, without
envy, without any dark feelings, to say, in sight of the end, in
sight of God who awaits me: 'Welcome, lonely old age! burn
out, useless life! '»
-
Lavretsky quietly rose and quietly went away; no one noticed
him, no one detained him: the joyous cries sounded more loudly
in the garden behind the thick green wall of high lime-trees.
He took his seat in the carriage, and bade the coachman drive
home, and not hurry the horses.
"And the end? " perhaps the dissatisfied reader will inquire.
"What became of Lavretsky afterwards, and of Lisa? " But
what is there to tell of people who, though still alive, have
withdrawn from the battle-field of life? They say Lavretsky
visited that remote convent where Lisa had hidden herself — that
he saw her. Crossing over from choir to choir, she walked close
past him, moving with the even, hurried, but meek walk of a
nun: and she did not glance at him; only the eyelashes on the
side towards him quivered a little, only she bent her emaciated
face lower, and the fingers of her clasped hands, entwined with
her rosary, were pressed still closer to one another. What were
they both thinking, what were they feeling? Who can know?
who can say? There are such moments in life, there are such
feelings. One can but point to them-and pass them by.
## p. 15082 (#670) ##########################################
15082
IVAN TURGENEFF
THE DISTRICT DOCTOR
From A Sportsman's Sketches'
Ο
NE day in autumn, on my way back from a remote part
of the country, I caught cold and fell ill. Fortunately the
fever attacked me in the district town, at the inn; I sent
for the doctor. In half an hour the district doctor appeared,-
a thin, dark-haired man of middle height. He prescribed me the
usual sudorific; ordered a mustard plaster to be put on; very
deftly slid a five-rouble note up his sleeve, coughing dryly and
looking away as he did so: and then was getting up to go home,
but somehow fell into talk and remained. I was exhausted with
feverishness; I foresaw a sleepless night, and was glad of a little
chat with a pleasant companion. Tea was served. My doctor
began to converse freely. He was a sensible fellow, and expressed
himself with vigor and some humor. Queer things happen in
the world: you may live a long while with some people, and be
on friendly terms with them, and never once speak openly with
them from your soul; with others you have scarcely time to get
acquainted, and all at once you are pouring out to him or he
to you
all your secrets, as though you were at confession.
don't know how I gained the confidence of my new friend: any-
way, with nothing to lead up to it, he told me a rather curi-
ous incident; and here I will report his tale for the information
of the indulgent reader. I will try to tell it in the doctor's own
words.
I
-
"You don't happen to know," he began in a weak and quaver-
ing voice (the common result of the use of unmixed Berezov
snuff), "you don't happen to know the judge here, Mylov—
Pavel Lukitch? You don't know him? Well, it's all the same. "
(He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes. ) "Well, you see,
the thing happened, to tell you exactly without mistake, in Lent,
at the very time of the thaws. I was sitting at his house-our
judge's, you know-playing preference. Our judge is a good
fellow, and fond of playing preference. Suddenly" (the doc-
tor made frequent use of this word "suddenly ") "they tell me,
'There's a servant asking for you. ' I say, 'What does he want? '
They say, 'He has brought a note-it must be from a patient. '
'Give me the note,' I say. So it is from a patient-well and
good; you understand - it's our bread and butter.
## p. 15083 (#671) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15083
"But this is how it was: a lady, a widow, writes to me; she
says, 'My daughter is dying. Come, for God's sake! ' she says;
'and the horses have been sent for you. ' Well, that's all right.
But she was twenty miles from the town, and it was midnight
out of doors, and the roads in such a state-my word! And as
she was poor herself, one could not expect more than two silver
roubles, and even that problematic; and perhaps it might only be
a matter of a roll of linen and a sack of oatmeal in payment.
However, duty, you know, before everything: a fellow-creature
may be dying. I hand over my cards at once to Kalliopin, the
member of the provincial commission, and return home. I look:
a wretched little trap was standing at the steps, with peasant's
horses, fat-too fat-and their coat as shaggy as felt; and the
coachman sitting with his cap off out of respect. Well, I think
to myself, 'It's clear, my friend, these patients aren't rolling in
riches. ' You smile; but I tell you a poor man like me has to
take everything into consideration. If the coachman sits like a
prince, and doesn't touch his cap, and even sneers at you behind
his beard, and flicks his whip-then you may bet on six roubles.
But this case, I saw, had a very different air. However, I think
there's no help for it: duty before everything. I snatch up the
most necessary drugs, and set off.
"Will you believe it-I only just managed to get there at
all. The road was infernal: streams, snow, watercourses, and the
dike had suddenly burst there that was the worst of it! How-
ever, I arrived at last. It was a little thatched house. There
was a light in the windows; that meant they expected me. I
was met by an old lady, very venerable, in a cap. Save her! '
she says: 'she is dying. ' I say, 'Pray don't distress yourself:
where is the invalid? '-'Come this way. '-I see a clean little
room, a lamp in the corner; on the bed a girl of twenty, uncon-
scious. She was in a burning heat, and breathing heavily; it was
fever. There were two other girls, her sisters, scared and in
'Yesterday,' they tell me, 'she was perfectly well and had
tears.
a good appetite; this morning she complained of her head, and
this evening, suddenly, you see, like this. ' I say again, ‘Pray
don't be uneasy;' it's a doctor's duty, you know; - and I went
up to her and bled her, told them to put on a mustard plaster,
and prescribed a mixture. Meantime I looked at her; I looked
at her, you know - there, by God! I had never seen such a face!
She was a beauty, in a word! I felt quite shaken with pity.
____
## p. 15084 (#672) ##########################################
15084
IVAN TURGENEFF
Such lovely features; such eyes!
certain even now whether I'm expressing myself clearly. While
I've been lying here, I've kept fancying red dogs were running
round me, while you were making them point at me, as if I
were a woodcock. Just as if I were drunk. Do you understand
me all right? "
"I assure you, Yevgeny, you are talking perfectly correctly. "
"All the better. You told me you'd sent for the doctor. You
did that to comfort yourself; - comfort me too: send a messen-
ger
— »
"To Arkady Nikolaitch? " put in the old man.
"Who's Arkady Nikolaitch? " said Bazarov, as though in
doubt. "Oh, yes! that chicken! No, let him alone: he's turned
jackdaw now. Don't be surprised: that's not delirium yet. You
send a messenger to Madame Odintsov, Anna Sergyevna; she's
a lady with an estate. Do you know? " (Vassily Ivanovitch
nodded. ) "Yevgeny Bazarov, say, sends his greetings, and sends
word he is dying. Will you do that? "
"Yes, I will do it. But is it a possible thing for you to die,
Yevgeny? Think only! Where would divine justice be after
that? "
"I know nothing about that; only you send the messenger. "
"I'll send this minute, and I'll write a letter myself. "
"No, why? Say I sent greetings; nothing more is necessary.
And now I'll go back to my dogs. Strange! I want to fix my
thoughts on death, and nothing comes of it. I see a kind of blur
and nothing more. "
-
He turned painfully back to the wall again; while Vassily
Ivanovitch went out of the study, and struggling as far as his
wife's bedroom, simply dropped down on to his knees before the
holy pictures.
«Pray, Arina, pray for us! " he moaned: "our son is dying. "
The doctor-the same district doctor who had had no caus-
tic-arrived; and after looking at the patient, advised them to
persevere with a cooling treatment, and at that point said a few
words of the chance of recovery.
"Have you ever chanced to see people in my state not set
off for Elysium? " asked Bazarov; and suddenly snatching the leg
of a heavy table that stood near his sofa, he swung it round,
## p. 15071 (#659) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15071
and pushed it away. "There's strength, there's strength," he
murmured; - "everything's here still, and I must die! An old
man at least has time to be weaned from life, but I- Well, go
and try to disprove death. Death will disprove you, and that's
all! Who's crying there? " he added, after a short pause.
"Mother? Poor thing! Whom will she feed now with her
exquisite beet-root soup? You, Vassily Ivanovitch, whimpering
too, I do believe! Why, if Christianity's no help to you, be a
philosopher, a Stoic, or what not! Why, didn't you boast you
were a philosopher? »
"Me a philosopher! " wailed Vassily Ivanovitch, while the
tears fairly streamed down his cheeks.
Bazarov got worse every hour; the progress of the disease
was rapid, as is usually the way in cases of surgical poisoning.
He still had not lost consciousness, and understood what was said
to him; he was still struggling. "I don't want to lose my wits,"
he muttered, clenching his fists: "what rot it all is! " And at
once he would say, "Come, take ten from eight, what remains ? »
Vassily Ivanovitch wandered about like one possessed; proposed
first one remedy, then another; and ended by doing nothing but
cover up his son's feet. "Try cold pack-emetic-mustard plas-
ters on the stomach - bleeding," he would murmur with an effort.
The doctor, whom he had entreated to remain, agreed with him;
ordered the patient lemonade to drink; and for himself asked for
a pipe, and something "warming and strengthening," — that is to
say, brandy. Arina Vlasyevna sat on a low stool near the door,
and only went out from time to time to pray. A few days
before, a looking-glass had slipped out of her hands and been
broken, and this she had always considered an omen of evil; even
Anfisushka could say nothing to her. Timofeitch had gone off
-
to Madame Odintsov's.
That night passed badly for Bazarov. He was in the agonies
of high fever. Towards morning he was a little easier. He
asked for Arina Vlasyevna to comb his hair, kissed her hand,
and swallowed two gulps of tea. Vassily Ivanovitch revived a
little.
"Thank God! " he kept declaring; "the crisis is coming, the
crisis is at hand! "
"There, to think now," murmured Bazarov, "what a word
can do! He's found it; he's said 'crisis,' and is comforted. It's
an astounding thing how man believes in words. If he's told
he's a fool, for instance, though he's not thrashed, he'll be
## p. 15072 (#660) ##########################################
15072
IVAN TURGENEFF
wretched; call him a clever fellow, and he'll be delighted if you
go off without paying him. ”
This little speech, of Bazarov's, recalling his old retorts, moved
Vassily Ivanovitch greatly.
"Bravo! well said, very good! " he cried, making as though
he were clapping his hands.
Bazarov smiled mournfully.
"So what do you think," he said: "is the crisis over, or com-
ing? "
You are better, that's what I see; that's what rejoices me,”
answered Vassily Ivanovitch.
"Well, that's good: rejoicings never come amiss.
do you remember? did you send? "
"To be sure I did. "
-
The change for the better did not last long. The disease
resumed its onslaughts. Vassily Ivanovitch was sitting by Baza-
rov. It seemed as though the old man were tormented by some
special anguish. He was several times on the point of speaking
and could not.
"Yevgeny! " he brought out at last; "my son, my one dear
And to her,
-
son! "
This unfamiliar mode of address produced an effect on Baza-
rov. He turned his head a little, and obviously trying to fight
against the load of oblivion weighing upon him, he articulated,
"What is it, father? "
"Yevgeny," Vassily Ivanovitch went on, and he fell on his
knees before Bazarov, though the latter had closed his eyes
and could not see him. "Yevgeny, you are better now: please
God, you will get well; but make use of this time,-comfort
your mother and me, perform the duty of a Christian! What
it means for me to say this to you-it's awful; but still more
awful for ever and ever, Yevgeny-think a little, what - "
The old man's voice broke; and a strange look passed over
his son's face, though he still lay with closed eyes.
"I won't refuse, if that can be any comfort to you," he
brought out at last; "but it seems to me there's no need to be
in a hurry. You say yourself I am better. "
"Oh, yes, Yevgeny, better certainly; but who knows? it is all
in God's hands, and in doing the duty-"
"No, I will wait a bit," broke in Bazarov. "I agree with you
that the crisis has come. And if we're mistaken, well! they give
the sacrament to men who're unconscious, you know. "
## p. 15073 (#661) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15073
"Yevgeny, I beg-»
"I'll wait a little. And now I want to go to sleep. Don't
disturb me. " And he laid his head back on the pillow.
The old man rose from his knees, sat down in the arm-chair,
and clutching his beard, began biting his own fingers.
The sound of a light carriage on springs-that sound which
is peculiarly impressive in the wilds of the country-suddenly
struck upon his hearing. Nearer and nearer rolled the light
wheels; now even the neighing of the horses could be heard.
Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up and ran to the little window. There
drove into the court-yard of his little house a carriage with seats
for two, with four horses harnessed abreast. Without stopping
to consider what it could mean, with a rush of a sort of sense-
less joy, he ran out on to the steps. A groom in livery was
opening the carriage doors; a lady in a black veil and a black
mantle was getting out of it.
"I am Madame Odintsov," she said. "Yevgeny Vassilyitch is
still living? You are his father? I have a doctor with me. "
"Benefactress! " cried Vassily Ivanovitch; and snatching her
hand, he pressed it convulsively to his lips; while the doctor
brought by Anna Sergyevna, a little man in spectacles, of Ger-
man physiognomy, stepped very deliberately out of the carriage.
"Still living, my Yevgeny is living, and now he will be saved!
Wife! wife! An angel from heaven has come to us. "
"What does it mean, good Lord! " faltered the old woman,
running out of the drawing-room; and comprehending nothing,
she fell on the spot at Anna Sergyevna's feet, in the passage, and
began kissing her garments like a mad woman.
"What are you doing! " protested Anna Sergyevna; but Arina
Vlasyevna did not heed her, while Vassily Ivanovitch could only
repeat, "An angel! an angel! "
"Wo ist der Kranke? [where is the patient? ]" said the doc-
tor at last, with some impatience.
Vassily Ivanovitch recovered himself.
"Here, here; - follow
me, würdigster Herr Collega," he added through old associations.
"Ah! " articulated the German, grinning sourly.
Vassily Ivanovitch led him into the study. "The doctor from
Anna Sergyevna Odintsov," he said, bending down quite to his
son's ear, "and she herself is here. "
Bazarov suddenly opened his eyes. "What did you say? "
"I say that Anna Sergyevna is here; and has brought this
gentleman, a doctor, to you. "
XXV-945
## p. 15074 (#662) ##########################################
15074
IVAN TURGENEFF
Bazarov moved his eyes about him.
see her. "
man.
"You shall see her, Yevgeny; but first we must have a little
talk with the doctor. I will tell him the whole history of your
illness, since Sidor Sidoritch" (this was the name of the district
doctor) "has gone; and we will have a little consultation. ”
Bazarov glanced at the German. "Well, talk away quickly,
only not in Latin: you see, I know the meaning of jam moritur. »
"Der Herr scheint des Deutschen mächtig zu sein," began the
new follower of Esculapius, turning to Vassily Ivanovitch.
"Ich-gabe- We had better speak Russian," said the old
"She is here? I want to
"Ah, ah! so that's how it is. To be sure
sultation began.
Half an hour later, Anna Sergyevna, conducted by Vassily
Ivanovitch, came into the study. The doctor had had time to
whisper to her that it was hopeless even to think of the patient's
-
Vassily Ivanovitch went out.
"Well, thanks," repeated Bazarov.
>>>
And the con-
recovery.
She looked at Bazarov-and stood still in the doorway; so
greatly was she impressed by the inflamed and at the same time
deathly face, with its dim eyes fastened upon her. She felt sim-
ply dismayed, with a sort of cold and suffocating dismay: the
thought that she would not have felt like that if she had really
loved him flashed instantaneously through her brain.
"Thanks," he said painfully: "I did not expect this.
It's a
deed of mercy. So we have seen each other again, as you prom-
ised. "
"Anna Sergyevna has been so kind," began Vassily Ivanovitch.
"Father, leave us alone. Anna Sergyevna, you will allow it,
I fancy, now? "
With a motion of his head, he indicated his prostrate helpless
frame.
"This is royally done.
Monarchs, they say, visit the dying too. "
"Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I hope-»
"Ah, Anna Sergyevna, let us speak the truth. It's all over
with me. I'm under the wheel. So it turns out that it was use-
less to think of the future. Death's an old joke, but it comes
fresh to every one. So far I'm not afraid- but there, senseless-
ness is coming, and then it's all up! " he waved his hand feebly.
"Well, what had to say to you? I loved you! There was no
## p. 15075 (#663) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15075
sense in that even before, and less than ever now. Love is a
form, and my own form is already breaking up. Better say how
lovely you are! And now here you stand, so beautiful-» Anna
Sergyevna gave an involuntary shudder. "Never mind, don't be
uneasy. Sit down there. Don't come close to me: you know my
illness is catching. "
Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in
the arm-chair near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying.
"Noble-hearted! " he whispered. "Oh, how near, and how
young, and fresh, and pure—in this loathsome room! Well, good-
by! live long,-that's the best of all,-and make the most of it
while there is time. You see what a hideous spectacle: the worm
half crushed, but writhing still. And you see, I thought too, I'd
break down so many things: I wouldn't die- why should I! -
there were problems to solve, and I was a giant! And now all
the problem for the giant is, how to die decently-though that
makes no difference to any one either. Never mind: I'm not
going to turn tail. ”
Bazarov was silent, and began feeling with his hand for the
glass.
Anna Sergyevna gave him some drink: not taking off her
glove, and drawing her breath timorously.
"You will forget me," he began again: "the dead's no com-
panion for the living. My father will tell you what a man Rus-
sia is losing. That's nonsense, but don't contradict the old man.
Whatever toy will comfort the child-you know. And be kind
to mother. People like them aren't to be found in your great
world if you look by daylight with a candle. I was needed by
Russia. No, it's clear, I wasn't needed. And who is needed?
The shoemaker's needed, the tailor's needed, the butcher - gives
us meat - the butcher wait a little, I'm getting mixed. There's
a forest here — "
Bazarov put his hand to his brow.
Anna Sergyevna bent down to him.
am here- »
―
―――――
"Yevgeny Vassilyitch, I
He at once took his hand away, and raised himself.
"Good-bye," he said with sudden force, and his eyes gleamed.
with their last light. "Good-bye. Listen-you know I didn't
kiss you then. Breathe on the dying lamp, and let it go out. "
Anna Sergyevna put her lips to his forehead.
"Enough! " he murmured, and dropped back on to the pillow.
"Now-darkness — "
## p. 15076 (#664) ##########################################
15076
IVAN TURGENEFF
Anna Sergyevna went softly out. "Well? " Vassily Ivano-
vitch asked her in a whisper.
"He has fallen asleep," she answered, scarce audibly. Baza-
rov was not fated to awaken.
Towards evening he sank into
complete unconsciousness, and the following day he died. Father
Alexey performed the last rites of religion over him. When they
anointed him with the last unction, when the holy oil touched his
breast, one eye opened; and it seemed as though at the sight of
the priest in his vestments, the smoking censers, the light before
the image, something like a shudder of horror passed over the
death-stricken face. When at last he had breathed his last, and
there arose a universal lamentation in the house, Vassily Ivan-
ovitch was seized by a sudden frenzy. "I said I should rebel,"
he shrieked hoarsely, with his face inflamed and distorted, shak-
ing his fist in the air, as though threatening some one; "and I
rebel, I rebel! " But Arina Vlasyevna, all in tears, hung upon
his neck, and both fell on their faces together.
"Side by
side,” Anfisushka related afterwards in the servants' room, "they
drooped their poor heads like lambs at noonday. "
But the heat of noonday passes, and evening comes and night;
and then too the return to the kindly refuge, where sleep is
sweet for the weary and heavy-laden.
LAVRETSKY
From A House of Gentlefolk
Α
ND SO-eight years have passed by. Once more the breezes
of spring breathed brightness and rejoicing from the heav-
ens; once more spring was smiling upon the earth and
upon men; once more under her caresses everything was turning
to blossom, to love, to song. The town of O- had undergone
little change in the course of these eight years: but Marfa
Dmitrievna's house seemed to have grown younger; its freshly
painted walls gave a bright welcome, and the panes of its open
windows were crimson, shining in the setting sun; from these
windows the light merry sound of ringing young voices and con-
tinual laughter floated into the street; the whole house seemed
astir with life and brimming over with gayety. The lady of the
house herself had long been in her tomb; Marya Dmitrievna had
## p. 15077 (#665) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15077
died two years after Lisa took the veil, and Marfa Timofyevna
had not long survived her niece; they lay side by side in the
cemetery of the town. Nastasya Karpovna too was no more. For
several years the faithful old woman had gone every week to say
a prayer over her friend's ashes: her time had come, and now
her bones too lay in the damp earth. But Marya Dmitrievna's
house had not passed into strangers' hands; it had not gone out
of her family; the home had not been broken up. Lenotchka,
transformed into a slim, beautiful young girl; and her betrothed
lover, a fair-haired officer of hussars; Marya Dmitrievna's son,
who had just been married in Petersburg and had come with his
young wife for the spring to O—; his wife's sister, a school-
girl of sixteen, with glowing cheeks and bright eyes; Shurotchka,
grown up and also pretty,-made up the youthful household,
whose laughter and talk set the walls of the Kalitins's house
resounding. Everything in the house was changed; everything
was in keeping with its new inhabitants. Beardless servant lads,
grinning and full of fun, had replaced the sober old servants of
former days. Two setter dogs dashed wildly about and gamboled
over the sofas, where the fat Roska had at one time waddled
in solemn dignity. The stables were filled with slender racers,
spirited carriage horses, fiery outriders with plaited manes, and
riding-horses from the Don. The breakfast, dinner, and supper
hours were all in confusion and disorder; in the words of the
neighbors, "unheard-of arrangements" were made.
On the evening of which we are speaking, the inhabitants of
the Kalitins's house (the eldest of them, Lenotchka's betrothed,
was only twenty-four) were engaged in a game, which, though
not of a very complicated nature, was, to judge from their merry
laughter, exceedingly entertaining to them,- they were running
about the rooms chasing one another; the dogs too were running
and barking; and the canaries, hanging in cages above the win-
dows, were straining their throats in rivalry, and adding to the
general uproar by the shrill trilling of their piercing notes. At the
very height of this deafening merry-making, a mud-bespattered
carriage stopped at the gate; and a man of five-and-forty, in a
traveling dress, stepped out of it, and stood still in amazement.
He stood a little time without stirring, watching the house with
attentive eyes; then went through the little gate in the court-
yard, and slowly mounted the steps. In the hall he met no one:
but the door of a room was suddenly flung open, and out of it
## p. 15078 (#666) ##########################################
15078
IVAN TURGENEFF
rushed Shurotchka, flushed and hot; and instantly, with a ring-
ing shout, all the young party in pursuit of her. They stopped
short at once, and were quiet, at the sight of a stranger; but
their clear eyes fixed on him wore the same friendly expression,
and their fresh faces were still smiling as Marya Dmitrievna's
son went up to the visitor, and asked him cordially what he could
do for him.
"I am Lavretsky," replied the visitor.
He was answered by a shout of friendliness; and not because
these young people were greatly delighted at the arrival of a dis-
tant, almost forgotten, relation, but simply because they were
ready to be delighted and make a noise at every opportunity.
They surrounded Lavretsky at once; Lenotchka, as an old ac-
quaintance, was the first to call him by his name, and assured
him that in a little while she would certainly have recognized
him. She presented him to the rest of the party, calling each,
even her betrothed, by their pet names. They all trooped through
the dining-room into the drawing-room. The walls of both
rooms had been repapered; but the furniture remained the same.
Lavretsky recognized the piano; even the embroidery frame in
the window was just the same, and in the same position, and it
seemed with the same unfinished embroidery on it, as eight years
ago.
They made him sit down in a comfortable arm-chair; all sat
down politely in a circle round him. Questions, exclamations, and
anecdotes followed.
"It's a long time since we have seen you," observed Le-
notchka simply, "and Varvara Pavlovna we have seen nothing
of either. "
"Well, no wonder! " her brother hastened to interpose: "I car-
ried you off to Petersburg, and Fedor Ivan'itch has been living
all the time in the country. "
"Yes, and mamma died soon after then. "
"And Marfa Timofyevna," observed Shurotchka.
"And Nastasya Karpovna," added Lenotchka, "and Monsieur
Lemm. "
"What? is Lemm dead? " inquired Lavretsky.
"Yes," replied young Kalitin, "he left here for Odessa - they
say some one enticed him there; and there he died. "
"You don't happen to know-did he leave any music?
"I don't know; not very likely. "
## p. 15079 (#667) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15079
A slight cloud of
All were silent and looked about them.
melancholy flitted over all the young faces.
"But Matross is alive," said Lenotchka suddenly.
"And Gedeonovsky," added her brother.
At Gedeonovsky's name a merry laugh broke out at once.
"Yes, he is alive, and as great a liar as ever," Marya Dmi-
trievna's son continued; "and only fancy, yesterday this madcap "
-pointing to the schoolgirl, his wife's sister-"put some pepper
in his snuff-box. "
"How he did sneeze! " cried Lenotchka; and again there was
a burst of unrestrained laughter.
"We have had news of Lisa lately," observed young Kalitin,
and again a hush fell upon all: "there was good news of her;
she is recovering her health a little now. "
"She is still in the same convent? " Lavretsky asked, not
without some effort.
"Yes, still in the same. "
"Does she write to you? "
<< No, never; but we get news through other people. "
A sudden and profound silence followed. "A good angel is
passing by," all were thinking.
"Wouldn't you like to go into the garden? " said Kalitin,
turning to Lavretsky: "it is very nice now, though we have let
it run wild a little. "
___________
Lavretsky went out into the garden, and the first thing that
met his eyes was the very garden seat on which he had once
spent with Lisa those few blissful moments, never repeated. It
had grown black and warped; but he recognized it, and his soul
was filled with that emotion unequaled for sweetness and for
bitterness, the emotion of keen sorrow for vanished youth, for
the happiness which has once been possessed. He walked along
the avenues with the young people: the lime-trees looked hardly
older or taller in the eight years, but their shade was thicker; on
the other hand, all the bushes had sprung up, the raspberry
bushes had grown strong, the hazels were a tangled thicket, and
from all sides rose the fresh scent of the trees and grass and
lilac.
"This would be a nice place for Puss-in-the-Corner," cried
Lenotchka suddenly, as they came upon a small green lawn, sur-
rounded by lime-trees; "and we are just five, too. "
"Have you forgotten Fedor Ivan'itch? " replied her brother,
"or didn't you count yourself? "
## p. 15080 (#668) ##########################################
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IVAN TURGENEFF
Lenotchka blushed slightly.
she began.
"But would Fedor Ivan'itch, at his age-
"Please play your games," Lavretsky hastened to interpose;
"don't pay attention to me. I shall be happier myself when I
am sure I am not in your way. And there's no need for you to
entertain me: we old fellows have an occupation you know noth-
ing of yet, and which no amusement can replace—our memories. »
The young people listened to Lavretsky with polite but rather
ironical respect,- as though a teacher were giving them a les-
son, and suddenly they all dispersed and ran to the lawn; four
stood near trees, one in the middle, and the game began.
And Lavretsky went back into the house, went into the dining-
room, drew near the piano and touched one of the keys; it gave
out a faint but clear sound: on that note had begun the inspired
melody with which long ago on that same happy night Lemm,
the dead Lemm, had thrown him into such transports. Then
Lavretsky went into the drawing-room, and for a long time he did
not leave it: in that room where he had so often seen Lisa, her
image rose most vividly before him; he seemed to feel the traces
of her presence round him: but his grief for her was crushing,
not easy to bear, it had none of the peace which comes with
death. Lisa still lived somewhere, hidden and afar; he thought
of her as of the living, but he did not recognize the girl he had
once loved in that dim, pale shadow, cloaked in a nun's dress
and encircled in misty clouds of incense. Lavretsky would not
have recognized himself, could he have looked at himself as
mentally he looked at Lisa. In the course of these eight years
he had passed that turning-point in life which many never pass,
but without which no one can be a good man to the end: he
had really ceased to think of his own happiness, of his personal
aims. He had grown calm, and-why hide the truth? - he had
grown old not only in face and in body, he had grown old in
heart. To keep a young heart up to old age, as some say, is
not only difficult, but almost ridiculous: he may well be content
who has not lost his belief in goodness, his steadfast will, and
his zeal for work. Lavretsky had good reason to be content: he
had become actually an excellent farmer, he had really learnt to
cultivate the land, and his labors were not only for himself,—
he had, to the best of his powers, secured on a firm basis the
welfare of his peasants.
-
Lavretsky went out of the house into the garden, and sat
down on the familiar garden seat. And on this loved spot, facing
## p. 15081 (#669) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15081
the house where for the last time he had vainly stretched out
his hand for the enchanted cup which frothed and sparkled with
the golden wine of delight, he, a solitary homeless wanderer,
looked back upon his life; while the joyous shouts of the younger
generation, who were already filling his place, floated across the
garden to him. His heart was sad, but not weighed down nor
bitter: much there was to regret, nothing to be ashamed of.
"Play away, be gay, grow strong, vigorous youth! " he
thought—and there was no bitterness in his meditations: "your
life is before you, and for you life will be easier; you have
not, as we had, to find out a path for yourselves, to struggle, to
fall, and to rise again in the dark; we had enough to do to last
out, and how many of us did not last out? - but you need
only do your duty, work away, and the blessing of an old man
be with you. For me, after to-day, after these emotions, there
remains to take my leave at last; and though sadly, without
envy, without any dark feelings, to say, in sight of the end, in
sight of God who awaits me: 'Welcome, lonely old age! burn
out, useless life! '»
-
Lavretsky quietly rose and quietly went away; no one noticed
him, no one detained him: the joyous cries sounded more loudly
in the garden behind the thick green wall of high lime-trees.
He took his seat in the carriage, and bade the coachman drive
home, and not hurry the horses.
"And the end? " perhaps the dissatisfied reader will inquire.
"What became of Lavretsky afterwards, and of Lisa? " But
what is there to tell of people who, though still alive, have
withdrawn from the battle-field of life? They say Lavretsky
visited that remote convent where Lisa had hidden herself — that
he saw her. Crossing over from choir to choir, she walked close
past him, moving with the even, hurried, but meek walk of a
nun: and she did not glance at him; only the eyelashes on the
side towards him quivered a little, only she bent her emaciated
face lower, and the fingers of her clasped hands, entwined with
her rosary, were pressed still closer to one another. What were
they both thinking, what were they feeling? Who can know?
who can say? There are such moments in life, there are such
feelings. One can but point to them-and pass them by.
## p. 15082 (#670) ##########################################
15082
IVAN TURGENEFF
THE DISTRICT DOCTOR
From A Sportsman's Sketches'
Ο
NE day in autumn, on my way back from a remote part
of the country, I caught cold and fell ill. Fortunately the
fever attacked me in the district town, at the inn; I sent
for the doctor. In half an hour the district doctor appeared,-
a thin, dark-haired man of middle height. He prescribed me the
usual sudorific; ordered a mustard plaster to be put on; very
deftly slid a five-rouble note up his sleeve, coughing dryly and
looking away as he did so: and then was getting up to go home,
but somehow fell into talk and remained. I was exhausted with
feverishness; I foresaw a sleepless night, and was glad of a little
chat with a pleasant companion. Tea was served. My doctor
began to converse freely. He was a sensible fellow, and expressed
himself with vigor and some humor. Queer things happen in
the world: you may live a long while with some people, and be
on friendly terms with them, and never once speak openly with
them from your soul; with others you have scarcely time to get
acquainted, and all at once you are pouring out to him or he
to you
all your secrets, as though you were at confession.
don't know how I gained the confidence of my new friend: any-
way, with nothing to lead up to it, he told me a rather curi-
ous incident; and here I will report his tale for the information
of the indulgent reader. I will try to tell it in the doctor's own
words.
I
-
"You don't happen to know," he began in a weak and quaver-
ing voice (the common result of the use of unmixed Berezov
snuff), "you don't happen to know the judge here, Mylov—
Pavel Lukitch? You don't know him? Well, it's all the same. "
(He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes. ) "Well, you see,
the thing happened, to tell you exactly without mistake, in Lent,
at the very time of the thaws. I was sitting at his house-our
judge's, you know-playing preference. Our judge is a good
fellow, and fond of playing preference. Suddenly" (the doc-
tor made frequent use of this word "suddenly ") "they tell me,
'There's a servant asking for you. ' I say, 'What does he want? '
They say, 'He has brought a note-it must be from a patient. '
'Give me the note,' I say. So it is from a patient-well and
good; you understand - it's our bread and butter.
## p. 15083 (#671) ##########################################
IVAN TURGENEFF
15083
"But this is how it was: a lady, a widow, writes to me; she
says, 'My daughter is dying. Come, for God's sake! ' she says;
'and the horses have been sent for you. ' Well, that's all right.
But she was twenty miles from the town, and it was midnight
out of doors, and the roads in such a state-my word! And as
she was poor herself, one could not expect more than two silver
roubles, and even that problematic; and perhaps it might only be
a matter of a roll of linen and a sack of oatmeal in payment.
However, duty, you know, before everything: a fellow-creature
may be dying. I hand over my cards at once to Kalliopin, the
member of the provincial commission, and return home. I look:
a wretched little trap was standing at the steps, with peasant's
horses, fat-too fat-and their coat as shaggy as felt; and the
coachman sitting with his cap off out of respect. Well, I think
to myself, 'It's clear, my friend, these patients aren't rolling in
riches. ' You smile; but I tell you a poor man like me has to
take everything into consideration. If the coachman sits like a
prince, and doesn't touch his cap, and even sneers at you behind
his beard, and flicks his whip-then you may bet on six roubles.
But this case, I saw, had a very different air. However, I think
there's no help for it: duty before everything. I snatch up the
most necessary drugs, and set off.
"Will you believe it-I only just managed to get there at
all. The road was infernal: streams, snow, watercourses, and the
dike had suddenly burst there that was the worst of it! How-
ever, I arrived at last. It was a little thatched house. There
was a light in the windows; that meant they expected me. I
was met by an old lady, very venerable, in a cap. Save her! '
she says: 'she is dying. ' I say, 'Pray don't distress yourself:
where is the invalid? '-'Come this way. '-I see a clean little
room, a lamp in the corner; on the bed a girl of twenty, uncon-
scious. She was in a burning heat, and breathing heavily; it was
fever. There were two other girls, her sisters, scared and in
'Yesterday,' they tell me, 'she was perfectly well and had
tears.
a good appetite; this morning she complained of her head, and
this evening, suddenly, you see, like this. ' I say again, ‘Pray
don't be uneasy;' it's a doctor's duty, you know; - and I went
up to her and bled her, told them to put on a mustard plaster,
and prescribed a mixture. Meantime I looked at her; I looked
at her, you know - there, by God! I had never seen such a face!
She was a beauty, in a word! I felt quite shaken with pity.
____
## p. 15084 (#672) ##########################################
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IVAN TURGENEFF
Such lovely features; such eyes!
