the man who was afraid- 第52部分

〃You　are　the　rotten　disease　of　your　father；　who；　though　he　was　a　plunderer；　was　nevertheless　a　worthy　man　in　comparison　with　you。〃

Because　of　the　unexpectedness　of　this；　and　because　of　his　wrath；　Foma's　heart　shrank。　He　fiercely　opened　his　eyes　wide　and　kept　silent；　finding　no　words　to　reply　to　this　insolence。　And　the　man；　standing　before　him；　went　on　hoarsely；　with　animation；　beastlike　rolling　his　large；　but　dim　and　swollen；　eyes：

〃You　demand　of　us　respect　for　you；　you　fool！　How　have　you　merited　it？　Who　are　you？　A　drunkard；　drinking　away　the　fortune　of　your　father。　You　savage！　You　ought　to　be　proud　that　I；　a　renowned　artist；　a　disinterested　and　faithful　worshipper　at　the　shrine　of　art；　drink　from　the　same　bottle　with　you！　This　bottle　contains　sandal　and　molasses；　infused　with　snuff…tobacco；　while　you　think　it　is　port　wine。　It　is　your　license　for　the　name　of　savage　and　ass。〃

〃Eh；　you　jailbird！〃　roared　Foma；　rushing　toward　the　artist。　But　he　was　seized　and　held　back。　Struggling　in　the　arms　of　those　that　seized　him；　he　was　compelled　to　listen　without　replying；　to　the　thundering；　deep　and　heavy　bass　of　the　man　who　resembled　a　swab。

〃You　have　thrown　to　men　a　few　copecks　out　of　the　stolen　roubles；　and　you　consider　yourself　a　hero！　You　are　twice　a　thief。　You　have　stolen　the　roubles　and　now　you　are　stealing　gratitude　for　your　few　copecks！　But　I　shall　not　give　it　to　you！　I；　who　have　devoted　all　my　life　to　the　condemnation　of　vice；　I　stand　before　you　and　say　openly：　'You　are　a　fool　and　a　beggar　because　you　are　too　rich！　Here　lies　the　wisdom：　all　the　rich　are　beggars。'　That's　how　the　famous　coupletist；　Rimsky…Kannibalsky；　serves　Truth！〃

Foma　was　now　standing　meekly　among　the　people　that　had　closely　surrounded　him；　and　he　eagerly　listened　to　the　coupletist's　thundering　words；　which　now　aroused　in　him　a　sensation　as　though　somebody　was　scratching　a　sore　spot；　and　thus　soothing　the　acute　itching　of　the　pain。　The　people　were　excited；　some　attempted　to　check　the　coupletist's　flow　of　eloquence；　others　wanted　to　lead　Foma　away　somewhere。　Without　saying　a　word　he　pushed　them　aside　and　listened；　more　and　more　absorbed　by　the　intense　pleasure　of　humiliation　which　he　felt　in　the　presence　of　these　people。　The　pain　irritated　by　the　words　of　the　coupletist；　caressed　Foma's　soul　more　and　more　passionately；　and　the　coupletist　went　on　thundering；　intoxicated　with　the　impurity　of　his　accusation：

〃You　think　that　you　are　the　master　of　life？　You　are　the　low　slave　of　the　rouble。〃

Someone　in　the　crowd　hiccoughed；　and；　evidently　displeased　with　himself　for　this；　cursed　each　time　he　hiccoughed：

〃0h　devil。〃

And　a　certain；　unshaven；　fat…faced　man　took　pity　on　Foma；　or；　perhaps；　became　tired　of　witnessing　that　scene；　and；　waving　his

hands；　he　drawled　out　plaintively：

〃Gentlemen；　drop　that！　It　isn't　good！　For　we　are　all　sinners！　Decidedly　all；　believe　me！〃

〃Well；　speak　on！〃　muttered　Foma。　〃Say　everything！　I　won't　touch　you。〃

The　mirrors　on　the　walls　reflected　this　drunken　confusion；　and　the　people；　as　reflected　in　the　mirrors；　seemed　more　disgusting　and　hideous　than　they　were　in　reality。

〃I　do　not　want　to　speak！　〃exclaimed　the　coupletist；　〃I　do　not　want　to　cast　the　pearls　of　truth　and　of　my　wrath　before　you。〃

He　rushed　forward；　and　raising　his　head　majestically；　turned　toward　the　door　with　tragic　footsteps。

〃You　lie！〃　said　Foma；　attempting　to　follow　him。　〃Hold　on！　you　have　made　me　agitated；　now　calm　me。〃

They　seized　him；　surrounded　him　and　shouted　something　to　him　while　he　was　rushing　forward；　overturning　everybody。　When　he　met　tactile　obstacles　on　his　way　the　struggle　with　them　gave　him　ease；　uniting　all　his　riotous　feelings　into　one　yearning　to　overthrow　that　which　hindered　him。　And　now；　after　he　had　jostled　them　all　aside　and　rushed　out　into　the　street；　he　was　already　less　agitated。　Standing　on　the　sidewalk　he　looked　about　the　street　and　thought　with　shame：

〃How　could　I　permit　that　swab　to　mock　me　and　abuse　my　father　as　a　thief？〃

It　was　dark　and　quiet　about　him；　the　moon　was　shining　brightly；　and　a　light　refreshing　breeze　was　blowing。　Foma　held　his　face　to　the　cool　breeze　as　he　walked　against　the　wind　with　rapid　strides；　timidly　looking　about　on　all　sides；　and　wishing　that　none　of　the　company　from　the　tavern　would　follow　him。　He　understood　that　he　had　lowered　himself　in　the　eyes　of　all　these　people。　As　he　walked　he　thought　of　what　he　had　come　to：　a　sharper　had　publicly　abused　him　in　disgraceful　terms；　while　he；　the　son　of　a　well…known　merchant；　had　not　been　able　to　repay　him　for　his　mocking。

〃It　serves　me　right！〃　thought　Foma；　sadly　and　bitterly。　〃That　serves　me　right！　Don't　lose　your　head；　understand。　And　then　again；　I　wanted　it　myself。　I　interfered　with　everybody；　so　now；　take　your　share！〃　These　thoughts　made　him　feel　painfully　sorry　for　himself。　Seized　and　sobered　by　them　he　kept　on　strolling　along　the　streets；　and　searching　for　something　strong　and　firm　in　himself。　But　everything　within　him　was　confused；　it　merely　oppressed　his　heart；　without　assuming　any　definite　forms。　As　in　a　painful　dream　he　reached　the　river；　seated　himself　on　the　beams　by　the　shore；　and　began　to　look　at　the　calm　dark　water；　which　was　covered　with　tiny　ripples。　Calmly　and　almost　noiselessly　flowed　on　the　broad；　mighty　river；　carrying　enormous　weights　upon　its　bosom。　The　river　was　all　covered　with　black　vessels；　the　signal　lights　and　the　stars　were　reflected　in　its　water；　the　tiny　ripples；　murmuring　softly；　were　gently　breaking　against　the　shore　at　the　very　feet　of　Foma。　Sadness　was　breathed　down　from　the　sky；　the　feeling　of　loneliness　oppressed　Foma。

〃0h　Lord　Jesus　Christ！〃　thought　he；　sadly　gazing　at　the　sky。　〃What　a　failure　I　am。　There　is　nothing　in　me。　God　has　put　nothing　into　me。　Of　what　use　am　I？　Oh　Lord　Jesus！〃

At　the　recollection　of　Christ　Foma　felt　somewhat　betterhis　loneliness　seemed　alleviated；　and　heaving　a　deep　sigh；　he　began　to　address　God　in　silence：

〃0h　Lord　Jesus　Christ！　Other　people　do　not　understand　anything　either；　but　they　think　that　all　is　known　to　them；　and　therefore　it　is　easier　for　them　to　live。　While　II　have　no　justification。　Here　it　is　night；　and　I　am　alone；　I　have　no　place　to　go；　I　am　unable　to　say　anything　to　anybody。　I　love　no　oneonly　my　godfather；　and　he　is　soulless。　If　Thou　hadst　but　punished　him　somehow！　He　thinks　there　is　none　cleverer　and　better　on　earth　than　himself。　While　Thou　sufferest　it。　And　the　same　with　me。　If　some　misfortune　were　but　sent　to　me。　If　some　illness　were　to　overtake　me。　But　here　I　am　as　strong　as　iron。　I　am　drinking；　leading　a　gay　life。　I　live　in　filth；　but　the　body　does　not　even　rust；　and　only　my　soul　aches。　Oh　Lord！　To　what　purpose　is　such　a　life？〃

Vague　thoughts　of　protest　flashed　one　after　another　through　the　mind　of　the　lonely；　straying　man；　while　the　silence　about　him　was　growing　deeper；　and　night　ever　darker　and　darker。　Not　far　from　the　shore　lay　a　boat　at　anchor；　it　rocked　from　side　to　side；　and　something　was　creaking　in　it　as　though　moaning。

〃How　am　I　to　free　myself　from　such　a　life　as　this？〃　reflected　Foma；　staring　at　the　boat。　〃And　what　occupation　is　destined　to　be　mine？　Everybody　is　working。〃

And　suddenly　he　was　struck　by　a　thought　which　appeared　great　to　him：

〃And　hard　work　is　cheaper　than　easy　work！　Some　man　will　give　himself　up　entire　to　his　work　for　a　rouble；　while　another　takes　a　thousand　with　one　finger。〃

He　was　pleasantly　roused　by　this　thought。　It　seemed　to　him　that　he　discovered　another　falsehood　in　the　life　of　man；　another　fraud　which　they　conceal。　He　recalled　one　of　his　stokers；　the　old　man　Ilya；　who；　for　ten　copecks；　used　to　be　on　watch　at　the　fireplace　out　of　his　turn；　working　for　a　comrade　eight　hours　in　succession；　amid　suffocating　heat。　One　day；　when　he　had　fallen　sick　on　account　of　overwork；　he　was　lying　on　the　bow　of　the　steamer；　and　when　Foma　asked　him　why　he　was　thus　ruining　himself；　Ilya　replied　roughly　and　sternly：

〃Because　every　copeck　is　more　necessary　to　me　than　a　hundred　roubles　to　you。　That's　why！〃

And；　saying　this；　the　old　man　turned　his　body；　which　was　burning　with　pain；　with　its　back　to　Foma。

Reflecting　on　the　stoker　his　thoughts　suddenly　and　without　any　effort；　embraced　all　those　petty　people　that　were　doing　hard　work。　He　wondered；　Why　do　they　live？　What　pleasure　is　it　for　them　to　live　on　earth？　They　constantly　do　but　their　dirty；　hard　work；　they　eat　poorly；　are　poorly　clad；　they　drink。　One　man　is　sixty　years　old；　and　yet　he　keeps　on　toiling　side　by　side　with　the　young　fellows。　And　they　all　appeared　to　Foma　as　a　huge　pile　of　worms；　which　battled　about　on　earth　just　to　get　something　to　eat。　In　his　memory　sprang　up　his　meetings　with　these　people；　one　after　anothertheir　remarks　about　lifenow　sarcastic　and　mournful；　now　hopelessly　gloomy　remarkstheir　wailing　songs。　And　now　he　also　recalled　how　one　day　in　the　office　Yefim　had　said　to　the　clerk　who　hired　the　sailors：

〃Some　Lopukhin　peasants　have　come　here　to　hire　themselves　out；　so　don't　give　them　more　than　ten　roubles　a　month。　Their　place　was　burned　down　to　ashes　last　summer；　and　they　are　now　in　dire　need　they'll　work　for　ten　roubles。〃

Sitting　on　the　beams；　Foma　rocked　his　whole　body　to　and　fro；　and　out　of　the　darkness；　from　the　river；　various　human　figures　a