the man who was afraid- 第48部分

〃Do　not　love　me；　but　teach　me。　But　then；　you　cannot　teach　me　the　right　thing！〃　said　Foma；　as　he　turned　his　back　on　the　old　man　and　left　the　hall。

Yakov　Tarasovich　Mayakin　remained　in　the　tavern　alone。　He　sat　by　the　table；　and；　bending　over　it；　made　drawings　of　patterns　on　the　tray；　dipping　his　trembling　finger　in　the　spilt　kvass；　and　his　sharp…pointed　head　was　sinking　lower　and　lower　over　the　table；　as　though　he　did　not　decipher；　and　could　not　make　out　what　his　bony　finger　was　drawing　on　the　tray。

Beads　of　perspiration　glistened　on　his　bald　crown；　and　as　usual　the　wrinkles　on　his　cheeks　quivered　with　frequent；　irritable　starts。

In　the　tavern　a　resounding　tumult　smote　the　air　so　that　the　window…panes　were　rattling。　From　the　Volga　were　wafted　the　whistlings　of　steamers；　the　dull　beating　of　the　wheels　upon　the　water；　the　shouting　of　the　loaderslife　was　moving　onward　unceasingly　and　unquestionably。

Summoning　the　waiter　with　a　nod　Yakov　Tarasovich　asked　him　with　peculiar　intensity　and　impressiveness

〃How　much　do　I　owe　for　all　this？〃

CHAPTER　X

PREVIOUS　to　his　quarrel　with　Mayakin；　Foma　had　caroused　because　of　the　weariness　of　life；　out　of　curiosity；　and　half　indifferently；　now　he　led　a　dissipated　life　out　of　spite；　almost　in　despair；　now　he　was　filled　with　a　feeling　of　vengeance　and　with　a　certain　insolence　toward　men；　an　insolence　which　astonished　even　himself　at　times。　He　saw　that　the　people　about　him；　like　himself；　lacked　support　and　reason；　only　they　did　not　understand　this；　or　purposely　would　not　understand　it；　so　as　not　to　hinder　themselves　from　living　blindly；　and　from　giving　themselves　completely；　without　a　thought；　to　their　dissolute　life。　He　found　nothing　firm　in　them；　nothing　steadfast；　when　sober；　they　seemed　to　him　miserable　and　stupid；　when　intoxicated；　they　were　repulsive　to　him；　and　still　more　stupid。　None　of　them　inspired　him　with　respect；　with　deep；　hearty　interest；　he　did　not　even　ask　them　what　their　names　were；　he　forgot　where　and　when　he　made　their　acquaintance；　and　regarding　them　with　contemptuous　curiosity；　always　longed　to　say　and　do　something　that　would　offend　them。　He　passed　days　and　nights　with　them　in　different　places　of　amusement；　and　his　acquaintances　always　depended　just　upon　the　category　of　each　of　these　places。　In　the　expensive　and　elegant　restaurants　certain　sharpers　of　the　better　class　of　society　surrounded　himgamblers；　couplet　singers；　jugglers；　actors；　and　property…holders　who　were　ruined　by　leading　depraved　lives。　At　first　these　people　treated　him　with　a　patronizing　air；　and　boasted　before　him　of　their　refined　tastes；　of　their　knowledge　of　the　merits　of　wine　and　food；　and　then　they　courted　favours　of　him；　fawned　upon　him；　borrowed　of　him　money　which　he　scattered　about　without　counting；　drawing　it　from　the　banks；　and　already　borrowing　it　on　promissory　notes。　In　the　cheap　taverns　hair…dressers；　markers；　clerks；　functionaries　and　choristers　surrounded　him　like　vultures；　and　among　these　people　he　always　felt　betterfreer。　In　these　he　saw　plain　people；　not　so　monstrously　deformed　and　distorted　as　that　〃clean　society〃　of　the　elegant　restaurants；　these　were　less　depraved；　cleverer；　better　understood　by　him。　At　times　they　evinced　wholesome；　strong　emotions；　and　there　was　always　something　more　human　in　them。　But；　like　the　〃clean　society；〃　these　were　also　eager　for　money；　and　shamelessly　fleeced　him；　and　he　saw　it　and　rudely　mocked　them。

To　be　sure；　there　were　women。　Physically　healthy；　but　not　sensual；　Foma　bought　them；　the　dear　ones　and　the　cheap　ones；　the　beautiful　and　the　ugly；　gave　them　large　sums　of　money；　changed　them　almost　every　week；　and　in　general；　he　treated　the　women　better　than　the　men。　He　laughed　at　them；　said　to　them　disgraceful　and　offensive　words；　but　he　could　never；　even　when　half…drunk；　rid　himself　of　a　certain　bashfulness　in　their　presence。　They　all；　even　the　most　brazen…faced；　the　strongest　and　the　most　shameless；　seemed　to　him　weak　and　defenseless；　like　small　children。　Always　ready　to　thrash　any　man；　he　never　laid　a　hand　on　women；　although　when　irritated　by　something　he　sometimes　abused　them　indecently。　He　felt　that　he　was　immeasurably　stronger　than　any　woman；　and　every　woman　seemed　to　him　immeasurably　more　miserable　than　he　was。　Those　of　the　women　who　led　their　dissolute　lives　audaciously；　boasting　of　their　depravity；　called　forth　in　Foma　a　feeling　of　bashfulness；　which　made　him　timid　and　awkward。　One　evening；　during　supper　hour；　one　of　these　women；　intoxicated　and　impudent；　struck　Foma　on　the　cheek　with　a　melon…rind。　Foma　was　half…drunk。　He　turned　pale　with　rage；　rose　from　his　chair；　and　thrusting　his　hands　into　his　pockets；　said　in　a　fierce　voice　which　trembled　with　indignation：

〃You　carrion；　get　out。　Begone！　Someone　else　would　have　broken　your　head　for　this。　And　you　know　that　I　am　forbearing　with　you；　and　that　my　arm　is　never　raised　against　any　of　your　kind。　Drive　her　away　to　the　devil！〃

A　few　days　after　her　arrival　in　Kazan；　Sasha　became　the　mistress　of　a　certain　vodka…distiller's　son；　who　was　carousing　together　with　Foma。　Going　away　with　her　new　master　to　some　place　on　the　Kama；　she　said　to　Foma：

〃Goodbye；　dear　man！　Perhaps　we　may　meet　again。　We're　both　going　the　same　way！　But　I　advise　you　not　to　give　your　heart　free　rein。　Enjoy　yourself　without　looking　back　at　anything。　And　then；　when　the　gruel　is　eaten　up；　smash　the　bowl　on　the　ground。　Goodbye！〃

And　she　impressed　a　hot　kiss　upon　his　lips；　at　which　her　eyes　looked　still　darker。

Foma　was　glad　that　she　was　leaving　him；　he　had　grown　tired　of　her　and　her　cold　indifference　frightened　him。　But　now　something　trembled　within　him；　he　turned　aside　from　her　and　said　in　a　low　voice：

〃Perhaps　you　will　not　live　well　together；　then　come　back　to　me。〃

〃Thank　you！〃　she　replied；　and　for　some　reason　or　other　burst　into　hoarse　laughter；　which　was　uncommon　with　her。

Thus　lived　Foma；　day　in　and　day　out；　always　turning　around　on　one　and　the　same　place；　amid　people　who　were　always　alike；　and　who　never　inspired　him　with　any　noble　feelings。　And　then　he　considered　himself　superior　to　them；　because　the　thoughts　of　the　possibility　of　freeing　himself　from　this　life　was　taking　deeper　and　deeper　root　in　his　mind；　because　the　yearning　for　freedom　held　him　in　an　ever　firmer　embrace；　because　ever　brighter　were　the　pictures　as　he　imagined　himself　drifting　away　to　the　border　of　life；　away　from　this　tumult　and　confusion。　More　than　once；　by　night；　remaining　all　by　himself；　he　would　firmly　close　his　eyes　and　picture　to　himself　a　dark　throng　of　people；　innumerably　great　and　even　terrible　in　its　immenseness。　Crowded　together　somewhere　in　a　deep　valley；　which　was　surrounded　by　hillocks；　and　filled　with　a　dusty　mist；　this　throng　jostled　one　another　on　the　same　place　in　noisy　confusion；　and　looked　like　grain　in　a　hopper。　It　was　as　though　an　invisible　millstone；　hidden　beneath　the　feet　of　the　crowd；　were　grinding　it；　and　people　moved　about　it　like　waves　now　rushing　downward　to　be　ground　the　sooner　and　disappear；　now　bursting　upward　in　the　effort　to　escape　the　merciless　millstone。　There　were　also　people　who　resembled　crabs　just　caught　and　thrown　into　a　huge　basketclutching　at　one　another；　they　twined　about　heavily；　crawled　somewhere　and　interfered　with　one　another；　and　could　do　nothing　to　free　themselves　from　captivity。

Foma　saw　familiar　faces　amid　the　crowd：　there　his　father　is　walking　boldly；　sturdily　pushing　aside　and　overthrowing　everybody　on　his　way；　he　is　working　with　his　long　paws；　massing　everything　with　his　chest；　and　laughing　in　thundering　tones。　And　then　he　disappears；　sinking　somewhere　in　the　depth；　beneath　the　feet　of　the　people。　There；　wriggling　like　a　snake；　now　jumping　on　people's　shoulders；　now　gliding　between　their　feet；　his　godfather　is　working　with　his　lean；　but　supple　and　sinewy　body。　Here　Lubov　is　crying　and　struggling；　following　her　father；　with　abrupt　but　faint　movements；　now　remaining　behind　him；　now　nearing　him　again。　Striding　softly　with　a　kind　smile　on　her　face；　stepping　aside　from　everybody；　and　making　way　for　everyone；　Aunt　Anfisa　is　slowly　moving　along。　Her　image　quivers　in　the　darkness　before　Foma；　like　the　modest　flame　of　a　wax　candle。　And　it　dies　out　and　disappears　in　the　darkness。　Pelagaya　is　quickly　going　somewhere　along　a　straight　road。　There　Sophya　Pavlovna　Medinskaya　is　standing；　her　hands　hanging　impotently；　just　as　she　stood　in　her　drawing…room　when　he　saw　her　last。　Her　eyes　were　large；　but　some　great　fright　gleams　in　them。　Sasha；　too；　is　here。　Indifferent；　paying　no　attention　to　the　jostling；　she　is　stoutly　going　straight　into　the　very　dregs　of　life；　singing　her　songs　at　the　top　of　her　voice；　her　dark　eyes　fixed　in　the　distance　before　her。　Foma　hears　tumult；　howls；　laughter；　drunken　shouts；　irritable　disputes　about　copeckssongs　and　sobs　hover　over　this　enormous　restless　heap　of　living　human　bodies　crowded　into　a　pit。　They　jump；　fall；　crawl；　crush　one　another；　leap　on　one　another's　shoulders；　grope　everywhere　like　blind　people；　stumbling　everywhere　over　others　like　themselves；　struggle；　and；　falling；　disappear　from　sight。　Money　rustles；　soaring　like　bats　over　the　heads　of　the　people；　and　the　people　greedily　stretch　out　their　hands　toward　it；　the　gold　and　silver　jingles；　bottles　rattle；　corks　p