IV
I had been certain the day before that I should be the first to arrive.But it was not a question of being the first to arrive. Not only werethey not there, but I had difficulty in finding our room. The tablewas not laid even. What did it mean? After a good many questions Ielicited from the waiters that the dinner had been ordered not forfive, but for six o'clock. This was confirmed at the buffet too. Ifelt really ashamed to go on questioning them. It was only twenty-fiveminutes past five. If they changed the dinner hour they ought at leastto have let me know--that is what the post is for, and not to have putme in an absurd position in my own eyes and ... and even before thewaiters. I sat down; the servant began laying the table; I felt evenmore humiliated when he was present. Towards six o'clock they broughtin candles, though there were lamps burning in the room. It had notoccurred to the waiter, however, to bring them in at once when Iarrived. In the next room two gloomy, angry-looking persons wereeating their dinners in silence at two different tables. There was agreat deal of noise, even shouting, in a room further away; one couldhear the laughter of a crowd of people, and nasty little shrieks inFrench: there were ladies at the dinner. It was sickening, in fact. Irarely passed more unpleasant moments, so much so that when they didarrive all together punctually at six I was overjoyed to see them, asthough they were my deliverers, and even forgot that it was incumbentupon me to show resentment.
Zverkov walked in at the head of them; evidently he was the leadingspirit. He and all of them were laughing; but, seeing me, Zverkov drewhimself up a little, walked up to me deliberately with a slight, ratherjaunty bend from the waist. He shook hands with me in a friendly, butnot over-friendly, fashion, with a sort of circumspect courtesy likethat of a General, as though in giving me his hand he were warding offsomething. I had imagined, on the contrary, that on coming in he wouldat once break into his habitual thin, shrill laugh and fall to makinghis insipid jokes and witticisms. I had been preparing for them eversince the previous day, but I had not expected such condescension, suchhigh-official courtesy. So, then, he felt himself ineffably superiorto me in every respect! If he only meant to insult me by thathigh-official tone, it would not matter, I thought--I could pay himback for it one way or another. But what if, in reality, without theleast desire to be offensive, that sheepshead had a notion in earnestthat he was superior to me and could only look at me in a patronisingway? The very supposition made me gasp.
"I was surprised to hear of your desire to join us," he began, lispingand drawling, which was something new. "You and I seem to have seennothing of one another. You fight shy of us. You shouldn't. We arenot such terrible people as you think. Well, anyway, I am glad torenew our acquaintance."
And he turned carelessly to put down his hat on the window.
"Have you been waiting long?" Trudolyubov inquired.
"I arrived at five o'clock as you told me yesterday," I answered aloud,with an irritability that threatened an explosion.
"Didn't you let him know that we had changed the hour?" saidTrudolyubov to Simonov.
"No, I didn't. I forgot," the latter replied, with no sign of regret,and without even apologising to me he went off to order the HORSD'OEUVRE.
"So you've been here a whole hour? Oh, poor fellow!" Zverkov criedironically, for to his notions this was bound to be extremely funny.That rascal Ferfitchkin followed with his nasty little snigger like apuppy yapping. My position struck him, too, as exquisitely ludicrousand embarrassing.
"It isn't funny at all!" I cried to Ferfitchkin, more and moreirritated. "It wasn't my fault, but other people's. They neglected tolet me know. It was ... it was ... it was simply absurd."
"It's not only absurd, but something else as well," mutteredTrudolyubov, naively taking my part. "You are not hard enough upon it.It was simply rudeness--unintentional, of course. And how couldSimonov ... h'm!"
"If a trick like that had been played on me," observed Ferfitchkin, "Ishould ..."
"But you should have ordered something for yourself," Zverkovinterrupted, "or simply asked for dinner without waiting for us."
"You will allow that I might have done that without your permission," Irapped out. "If I waited, it was ..."
"Let us sit down, gentlemen," cried Simonov, coming in. "Everything isready; I can answer for the champagne; it is capitally frozen.... Yousee, I did not know your address, where was I to look for you?" hesuddenly turned to me, but again he seemed to avoid looking at me.Evidently he had something against me. It must have been what happenedyesterday.
All sat down; I did the same. It was a round table. Trudolyubov wason my left, Simonov on my right, Zverkov was sitting opposite,Ferfitchkin next to him, between him and Trudolyubov.
"Tell me, are you ... in a government office?" Zverkov went onattending to me. Seeing that I was embarrassed he seriously thoughtthat he ought to be friendly to me, and, so to speak, cheer me up.
"Does he want me to throw a bottle at his head?" I thought, in a fury.In my novel surroundings I was unnaturally ready to be irritated.
"In the N---- office," I answered jerkily, with my eyes on my plate.
"And ha-ave you a go-od berth? I say, what ma-a-de you leave youroriginal job?"
"What ma-a-de me was that I wanted to leave my original job," I drawledmore than he, hardly able to control myself. Ferfitchkin went off intoa guffaw. Simonov looked at me ironically. Trudolyubov left offeating and began looking at me with curiosity.
Zverkov winced, but he tried not to notice it.
"And the remuneration?"
"What remuneration?"
"I mean, your sa-a-lary?"
"Why are you cross-examining me?" However, I told him at once what mysalary was. I turned horribly red.
"It is not very handsome," Zverkov observed majestically.
"Yes, you can't afford to dine at cafes on that," Ferfitchkin addedinsolently.
"To my thinking it's very poor," Trudolyubov observed gravely.
"And how thin you have grown! How you have changed!" added Zverkov,with a shade of venom in his voice, scanning me and my attire with asort of insolent compassion.
"Oh, spare his blushes," cried Ferfitchkin, sniggering.
"My dear sir, allow me to tell you I am not blushing," I broke out atlast; "do you hear? I am dining here, at this cafe, at my own expense,not at other people's--note that, Mr. Ferfitchkin."
"Wha-at? Isn't every one here dining at his own expense? You wouldseem to be ..." Ferfitchkin flew out at me, turning as red as alobster, and looking me in the face with fury.
"Tha-at," I answered, feeling I had gone too far, "and I imagine itwould be better to talk of something more intelligent."
"You intend to show off your intelligence, I suppose?"
"Don't disturb yourself, that would be quite out of place here."
"Why are you clacking away like that, my good sir, eh? Have you goneout of your wits in your office?"
"Enough, gentlemen, enough!" Zverkov cried, authoritatively.
"How stupid it is!" muttered Simonov.
"It really is stupid. We have met here, a company of friends, for afarewell dinner to a comrade and you carry on an altercation," saidTrudolyubov, rudely addressing himself to me alone. "You invitedyourself to join us, so don't disturb the general harmony."
"Enough, enough!" cried Zverkov. "Give over, gentlemen, it's out ofplace. Better let me tell you how I nearly got married the day beforeyesterday...."
And then followed a burlesque narrative of how this gentleman hadalmost been married two days before. There was not a word about themarriage, however, but the story was adorned with generals, colonelsand kammer-junkers, while Zverkov almost took the lead among them. Itwas greeted with approving laughter; Ferfitchkin positively squealed.
No one paid any attention to me, and I sat crushed and humiliated.
"Good Heavens, these are not the people for me!" I thought. "And whata fool I have made of myself before them! I let Ferfitchkin go
toofar, though. The brutes imagine they are doing me an honour in lettingme sit down with them. They don't understand that it's an honour tothem and not to me! I've grown thinner! My clothes! Oh, damn mytrousers! Zverkov noticed the yellow stain on the knee as soon as hecame in.... But what's the use! I must get up at once, this veryminute, take my hat and simply go without a word ... with contempt!And tomorrow I can send a challenge. The scoundrels! As though Icared about the seven roubles. They may think.... Damn it! I don'tcare about the seven roubles. I'll go this minute!"
Of course I remained. I drank sherry and Lafitte by the glassful in mydiscomfiture. Being unaccustomed to it, I was quickly affected. Myannoyance increased as the wine went to my head. I longed all at onceto insult them all in a most flagrant manner and then go away. Toseize the moment and show what I could do, so that they would say,"He's clever, though he is absurd," and ... and ... in fact, damn themall!
I scanned them all insolently with my drowsy eyes. But they seemed tohave forgotten me altogether. They were noisy, vociferous, cheerful.Zverkov was talking all the time. I began listening. Zverkov wastalking of some exuberant lady whom he had at last led on to declaringher love (of course, he was lying like a horse), and how he had beenhelped in this affair by an intimate friend of his, a Prince Kolya, anofficer in the hussars, who had three thousand serfs.
"And yet this Kolya, who has three thousand serfs, has not put in anappearance here tonight to see you off," I cut in suddenly.
For one minute every one was silent. "You are drunk already."Trudolyubov deigned to notice me at last, glancing contemptuously in mydirection. Zverkov, without a word, examined me as though I were aninsect. I dropped my eyes. Simonov made haste to fill up the glasseswith champagne.
Trudolyubov raised his glass, as did everyone else but me.
"Your health and good luck on the journey!" he cried to Zverkov. "Toold times, to our future, hurrah!"
They all tossed off their glasses, and crowded round Zverkov to kisshim. I did not move; my full glass stood untouched before me.
"Why, aren't you going to drink it?" roared Trudolyubov, losingpatience and turning menacingly to me.
"I want to make a speech separately, on my own account ... and thenI'll drink it, Mr. Trudolyubov."
"Spiteful brute!" muttered Simonov. I drew myself up in my chair andfeverishly seized my glass, prepared for something extraordinary,though I did not know myself precisely what I was going to say.
"SILENCE!" cried Ferfitchkin. "Now for a display of wit!"
Zverkov waited very gravely, knowing what was coming.
"Mr. Lieutenant Zverkov," I began, "let me tell you that I hatephrases, phrasemongers and men in corsets ... that's the first point,and there is a second one to follow it."
There was a general stir.
"The second point is: I hate ribaldry and ribald talkers. Especiallyribald talkers! The third point: I love justice, truth and honesty."I went on almost mechanically, for I was beginning to shiver withhorror myself and had no idea how I came to be talking like this. "Ilove thought, Monsieur Zverkov; I love true comradeship, on an equalfooting and not ... H'm ... I love ... But, however, why not? I willdrink your health, too, Mr. Zverkov. Seduce the Circassian girls,shoot the enemies of the fatherland and ... and ... to your health,Monsieur Zverkov!"
Zverkov got up from his seat, bowed to me and said:
"I am very much obliged to you." He was frightfully offended andturned pale.
"Damn the fellow!" roared Trudolyubov, bringing his fist down on thetable.
"Well, he wants a punch in the face for that," squealed Ferfitchkin.
"We ought to turn him out," muttered Simonov.
"Not a word, gentlemen, not a movement!" cried Zverkov solemnly,checking the general indignation. "I thank you all, but I can show himfor myself how much value I attach to his words."
"Mr. Ferfitchkin, you will give me satisfaction tomorrow for yourwords just now!" I said aloud, turning with dignity to Ferfitchkin.
"A duel, you mean? Certainly," he answered. But probably I was soridiculous as I challenged him and it was so out of keeping with myappearance that everyone including Ferfitchkin was prostrate withlaughter.
"Yes, let him alone, of course! He is quite drunk," Trudolyubov saidwith disgust.
"I shall never forgive myself for letting him join us," Simonovmuttered again.
"Now is the time to throw a bottle at their heads," I thought tomyself. I picked up the bottle ... and filled my glass.... "No, I'dbetter sit on to the end," I went on thinking; "you would be pleased,my friends, if I went away. Nothing will induce me to go. I'll go onsitting here and drinking to the end, on purpose, as a sign that Idon't think you of the slightest consequence. I will go on sitting anddrinking, because this is a public-house and I paid my entrance money.I'll sit here and drink, for I look upon you as so many pawns, asinanimate pawns. I'll sit here and drink ... and sing if I want to,yes, sing, for I have the right to ... to sing ... H'm!"
But I did not sing. I simply tried not to look at any of them. Iassumed most unconcerned attitudes and waited with impatience for themto speak FIRST. But alas, they did not address me! And oh, how Iwished, how I wished at that moment to be reconciled to them! Itstruck eight, at last nine. They moved from the table to the sofa.Zverkov stretched himself on a lounge and put one foot on a roundtable. Wine was brought there. He did, as a fact, order three bottleson his own account. I, of course, was not invited to join them. Theyall sat round him on the sofa. They listened to him, almost withreverence. It was evident that they were fond of him. "What for?What for?" I wondered. From time to time they were moved to drunkenenthusiasm and kissed each other. They talked of the Caucasus, of thenature of true passion, of snug berths in the service, of the income ofan hussar called Podharzhevsky, whom none of them knew personally, andrejoiced in the largeness of it, of the extraordinary grace and beautyof a Princess D., whom none of them had ever seen; then it came toShakespeare's being immortal.
I smiled contemptuously and walked up and down the other side of theroom, opposite the sofa, from the table to the stove and back again. Itried my very utmost to show them that I could do without them, and yetI purposely made a noise with my boots, thumping with my heels. But itwas all in vain. They paid no attention. I had the patience to walkup and down in front of them from eight o'clock till eleven, in thesame place, from the table to the stove and back again. "I walk up anddown to please myself and no one can prevent me." The waiter who cameinto the room stopped, from time to time, to look at me. I wassomewhat giddy from turning round so often; at moments it seemed to methat I was in delirium. During those three hours I was three timessoaked with sweat and dry again. At times, with an intense, acute pangI was stabbed to the heart by the thought that ten years, twenty years,forty years would pass, and that even in forty years I would rememberwith loathing and humiliation those filthiest, most ludicrous, and mostawful moments of my life. No one could have gone out of his way todegrade himself more shamelessly, and I fully realised it, fully, andyet I went on pacing up and down from the table to the stove. "Oh, ifyou only knew what thoughts and feelings I am capable of, how culturedI am!" I thought at moments, mentally addressing the sofa on which myenemies were sitting. But my enemies behaved as though I were not inthe room. Once--only once--they turned towards me, just when Zverkovwas talking about Shakespeare, and I suddenly gave a contemptuouslaugh. I laughed in such an affected and disgusting way that they allat once broke off their conversation, and silently and gravely for twominutes watched me walking up and down from the table to the stove,TAKING NO NOTICE OF THEM. But nothing came of it: they said nothing,and two minutes later they ceased to notice me again. It struck eleven.
"Friends," cried Zverkov getting up from the sofa, "let us all be offnow, THERE!"
"Of course, of course," the others assented. I turned sharply toZverkov. I was so harassed, so exhausted, that I would have cut mythroat to put an end to i
t. I was in a fever; my hair, soaked withperspiration, stuck to my forehead and temples.
"Zverkov, I beg your pardon," I said abruptly and resolutely."Ferfitchkin, yours too, and everyone's, everyone's: I have insultedyou all!"
"Aha! A duel is not in your line, old man," Ferfitchkin hissedvenomously.
It sent a sharp pang to my heart.
"No, it's not the duel I am afraid of, Ferfitchkin! I am ready tofight you tomorrow, after we are reconciled. I insist upon it, infact, and you cannot refuse. I want to show you that I am not afraidof a duel. You shall fire first and I shall fire into the air."
"He is comforting himself," said Simonov.
"He's simply raving," said Trudolyubov.
"But let us pass. Why are you barring our way? What do you want?"Zverkov answered disdainfully.
They were all flushed, their eyes were bright: they had been drinkingheavily.
"I ask for your friendship, Zverkov; I insulted you, but ..."
"Insulted? YOU insulted ME? Understand, sir, that you never, underany circumstances, could possibly insult ME."
"And that's enough for you. Out of the way!" concluded Trudolyubov.
"Olympia is mine, friends, that's agreed!" cried Zverkov.
"We won't dispute your right, we won't dispute your right," the othersanswered, laughing.
I stood as though spat upon. The party went noisily out of the room.Trudolyubov struck up some stupid song. Simonov remained behind for amoment to tip the waiters. I suddenly went up to him.
"Simonov! give me six roubles!" I said, with desperate resolution.
He looked at me in extreme amazement, with vacant eyes. He, too, wasdrunk.
"You don't mean you are coming with us?"
"Yes."
"I've no money," he snapped out, and with a scornful laugh he went outof the room.
I clutched at his overcoat. It was a nightmare.
"Simonov, I saw you had money. Why do you refuse me? Am I ascoundrel? Beware of refusing me: if you knew, if you knew why I amasking! My whole future, my whole plans depend upon it!"
Simonov pulled out the money and almost flung it at me.
"Take it, if you have no sense of shame!" he pronounced pitilessly, andran to overtake them.
I was left for a moment alone. Disorder, the remains of dinner, abroken wine-glass on the floor, spilt wine, cigarette ends, fumes ofdrink and delirium in my brain, an agonising misery in my heart andfinally the waiter, who had seen and heard all and was lookinginquisitively into my face.
"I am going there!" I cried. "Either they shall all go down on theirknees to beg for my friendship, or I will give Zverkov a slap in theface!"
Notes from the Underground Page 16
