CHAPTER XX
Bazarov leaned out of the coach, while Arkady thrust his head outbehind his companion's back, and caught sight on the steps of thelittle manor-house of a tall, thinnish man with dishevelled hair, and athin hawk nose, dressed in an old military coat not buttoned up. He wasstanding, his legs wide apart, smoking a long pipe and screwing up hiseyes to keep the sun out of them.
The horses stopped.
'Arrived at last,' said Bazarov's father, still going on smoking thoughthe pipe was fairly dancing up and down between his fingers. 'Come, getout; get out; let me hug you.'
He began embracing his son ... 'Enyusha, Enyusha,' was heard atrembling woman's voice. The door was flung open, and in the doorwaywas seen a plump, short, little old woman in a white cap and a shortstriped jacket. She moaned, staggered, and would certainly have fallen,had not Bazarov supported her. Her plump little hands were instantlytwined round his neck, her head was pressed to his breast, and therewas a complete hush. The only sound heard was her broken sobs.
Old Bazarov breathed hard and screwed his eyes up more than ever.
'There, that's enough, that's enough, Arisha! give over,' he said,exchanging a glance with Arkady, who remained motionless in the coach,while the peasant on the box even turned his head away; 'that's not atall necessary, please give over.'
'Ah, Vassily Ivanitch,' faltered the old woman, 'for what ages, my dearone, my darling, Enyusha,' ... and, not unclasping her hands, she drewher wrinkled face, wet with tears and working with tenderness, a littleaway from Bazarov, and gazed at him with blissful and comic-lookingeyes, and again fell on his neck.
'Well, well, to be sure, that's all in the nature of things,' commentedVassily Ivanitch, 'only we'd better come indoors. Here's a visitor comewith Yevgeny. You must excuse it,' he added, turning to Arkady, andscraping with his foot; 'you understand, a woman's weakness; and well,a mother's heart ...'
His lips and eyebrows too were twitching, and his beard was quivering... but he was obviously trying to control himself and appear almostindifferent.
'Let's come in, mother, really,' said Bazarov, and he led the enfeebledold woman into the house. Putting her into a comfortable armchair, heonce more hurriedly embraced his father and introduced Arkady to him.
'Heartily glad to make your acquaintance,' said Vassily Ivanovitch,'but you mustn't expect great things; everything here in my house isdone in a plain way, on a military footing. Arina Vlasyevna, calmyourself, pray; what weakness! The gentleman our guest will think illof you.'
'My dear sir,' said the old lady through her tears, 'your name and yourfather's I haven't the honour of knowing....'
'Arkady Nikolaitch,' put in Vassily Ivanitch solemnly, in a low voice.
'You must excuse a silly old woman like me.' The old woman blew hernose, and bending her head to right and to left, carefully wiped oneeye after the other. 'You must excuse me. You see, I thought I shoulddie, that I should not live to see my da .. arling.'
'Well, here we have lived to see him, madam,' put in VassilyIvanovitch. 'Tanyushka,' he turned to a bare-legged little girl ofthirteen in a bright red cotton dress, who was timidly peeping in atthe door, 'bring your mistress a glass of water--on a tray, do youhear?--and you, gentlemen,' he added, with a kind of old-fashionedplayfulness, 'let me ask you into the study of a retired old veteran.'
'Just once more let me embrace you, Enyusha,' moaned Arina Vlasyevna.Bazarov bent down to her. 'Why, what a handsome fellow you have grown!'
'Well, I don't know about being handsome,' remarked Vassily Ivanovitch,'but he's a man, as the saying is, _ommfay_. And now I hope, ArinaVlasyevna, that having satisfied your maternal heart, you will turnyour thoughts to satisfying the appetites of our dear guests, because,as you're aware, even nightingales can't be fed on fairy tales.'
The old lady got up from her chair. 'This minute, Vassily Ivanovitch,the table shall be laid. I will run myself to the kitchen and order thesamovar to be brought in; everything shall be ready, everything. Why, Ihave not seen him, not given him food or drink these three years; isthat nothing?'
'There, mind, good mother, bustle about; don't put us to shame; whileyou, gentlemen, I beg you to follow me. Here's Timofeitch come to payhis respects to you, Yevgeny. He, too, I daresay, is delighted, the olddog. Eh, aren't you delighted, old dog? Be so good as to follow me.'
And Vassily Ivanovitch went bustling forward, scraping and flappingwith his slippers trodden down at heel.
His whole house consisted of six tiny rooms. One of them--the one towhich he led our friends--was called the study. A thick-legged table,littered over with papers black with the accumulation of ancient dustas though they had been smoked, occupied all the space between the twowindows; on the walls hung Turkish firearms, whips, a sabre, two maps,some anatomical diagrams, a portrait of Hoffland, a monogram woven inhair in a blackened frame, and a diploma under glass; a leather sofa,torn and worn into hollows in parts, was placed between two hugecupboards of birch-wood; on the shelves books, boxes, stuffed birds,jars, and phials were huddled together in confusion; in one cornerstood a broken galvanic battery.
'I warned you, my dear Arkady Nikolaitch,' began Vassily Ivanitch,'that we live, so to say, bivouacking....'
'There, stop that, what are you apologising for?' Bazarov interrupted.'Kirsanov knows very well we're not Croesuses, and that you have nobutler. Where are we going to put him, that's the question?'
'To be sure, Yevgeny; I have a capital room there in the little lodge;he will be very comfortable there.'
'Have you had a lodge put up then?'
'Why, where the bath-house is,' put in Timofeitch.
'That is next to the bathroom,' Vassily Ivanitch added hurriedly. 'It'ssummer now ... I will run over there at once, and make arrangements;and you, Timofeitch, meanwhile bring in their things. You, Yevgeny, Ishall of course offer my study. _Suum cuique_.'
'There you have him! A comical old chap, and very good-natured,'remarked Bazarov, directly Vassily Ivanitch had gone. 'Just such aqueer fish as yours, only in another way. He chatters too much.'
'And your mother seems an awfully nice woman,' observed Arkady.
'Yes, there's no humbug about her. You'll see what a dinner she'll giveus.'
'They didn't expect you to-day, sir; they've not brought any beef?'observed Timofeitch, who was just dragging in Bazarov's box.
'We shall get on very well without beef. It's no use crying for themoon. Poverty, they say, is no vice.'
'How many serfs has your father?' Arkady asked suddenly.
'The estate's not his, but mother's; there are fifteen serfs, if Iremember.'
'Twenty-two in all,' Timofeitch added, with an air of displeasure.
The flapping of slippers was heard, and Vassily Ivanovitch reappeared.'In a few minutes your room will be ready to receive you,' he criedtriumphantly. Arkady ... Nikolaitch? I think that is right? And here isyour attendant,' he added, indicating a short-cropped boy, who had comein with him in a blue full-skirted coat with ragged elbows and a pairof boots which did not belong to him. 'His name is Fedka. Again, Irepeat, even though my son tells me not to, you mustn't expect greatthings. He knows how to fill a pipe, though. You smoke, of course?'
'I generally smoke cigars,' answered Arkady.
'And you do very sensibly. I myself give the preference to cigars, butin these solitudes it is exceedingly difficult to obtain them.'
'There, that's enough humble pie,' Bazarov interrupted again. 'You'dmuch better sit here on the sofa and let us have a look at you.'
Vassily Ivanovitch laughed and sat down. He was very like his son inface, only his brow was lower and narrower, and his mouth rather wider,and he was for ever restless, shrugging up his shoulder as though hiscoat cut him under the armpits, blinking, clearing his throat, andgesticulating with his fingers, while his son was distinguished by akind of nonchalant immobility.
'Humble-pie!' repeated Vassily Ivanovitch. 'You must not imagine,Yevgeny, I want to appeal, so to speak, to our guest's
sympathies bymaking out we live in such a wilderness. Quite the contrary, I maintainthat for a thinking man nothing is a wilderness. At least, I try as faras possible not to get rusty, so to speak, not to fall behind the age.'
Vassily Ivanovitch drew out of his pocket a new yellow silkhandkerchief, which he had had time to snatch up on the way to Arkady'sroom, and flourishing it in the air, he proceeded: 'I am not nowalluding to the fact that, for example, at the cost of sacrifices notinconsiderable for me, I have put my peasants on the rent-system andgiven up my land to them on half profits. I regarded that as my duty;common sense itself enjoins such a proceeding, though other proprietorsdo not even dream of it; I am alluding to the sciences, to culture.'
'Yes; I see you have here _The Friend of Health_ for 1855,' remarkedBazarov.
'It's sent me by an old comrade out of friendship,' Vassily Ivanovitchmade haste to answer; 'but we have, for instance, some idea even ofphrenology,' he added, addressing himself principally, however, toArkady, and pointing to a small plaster head on the cupboard, dividedinto numbered squares; 'we are not unacquainted even with Schenlein andRademacher.'
'Why do people still believe in Rademacher in this province?' askedBazarov.
Vassily Ivanovitch cleared his throat. 'In this province.... Of course,gentlemen, you know best; how could we keep pace with you? You are hereto take our places. In my day, too, there was some sort of aHumouralist school, Hoffmann, and Brown too with his vitalism--theyseemed very ridiculous to us, but, of course, they too had been greatmen at one time or other. Some one new has taken the place ofRademacher with you; you bow down to him, but in another twenty yearsit will be his turn to be laughed at.'
'For your consolation I will tell you,' observed Bazarov, 'thatnowadays we laugh at medicine altogether, and don't bow down to anyone.'
'How's that? Why, you're going to be a doctor, aren't you?'
'Yes, but the one fact doesn't prevent the other.'
Vassily Ivanovitch poked his third finger into his pipe, where a littlesmouldering ash was still left. 'Well, perhaps, perhaps--I am not goingto dispute. What am I? A retired army-doctor, _volla-too_; now fate hasmade me take to farming. I served in your grandfather's brigade,' headdressed himself again to Arkady; 'yes, yes, I have seen many sightsin my day. And I was thrown into all kinds of society, brought intocontact with all sorts of people! I myself, the man you see before younow, have felt the pulse of Prince Wittgenstein and of Zhukovsky! Theywere in the southern army, in the fourteenth, you understand' (and hereVassily Ivanovitch pursed his mouth up significantly). 'Well, well, butmy business was on one side; stick to your lancet, and let everythingelse go hang! Your grandfather was a very honourable man, a realsoldier.'
'Confess, now, he was rather a blockhead,' remarked Bazarov lazily.
'Ah, Yevgeny, how can you use such an expression! Do consider.... Ofcourse, General Kirsanov was not one of the ...'
'Come, drop him,' broke in Bazarov; 'I was pleased as I was drivingalong here to see your birch copse; it has shot up capitally.'
Vassily Ivanovitch brightened up. 'And you must see what a littlegarden I've got now! I planted every tree myself. I've fruit, andraspberries, and all kinds of medicinal herbs. However clever you younggentlemen may be, old Paracelsus spoke the holy truth: _in herbisverbis et lapidibus_.... I've retired from practice, you know, ofcourse, but two or three times a week it will happen that I'm broughtback to my old work. They come for advice--I can't drive them away.Sometimes the poor have recourse to me for help. And indeed there areno doctors here at all. There's one of the neighbours here, a retiredmajor, only fancy, he doctors the people too. I asked the question,"Has he studied medicine?" And they told me, "No, he's not studied; hedoes it more from philanthropy."... Ha! ha! ha! from philanthropy! Whatdo you think of that? Ha! ha! ha!'
'Fedka, fill me a pipe!' said Bazarov rudely.
'And there's another doctor here who just got to a patient,' VassilyIvanovitch persisted in a kind of desperation, 'when the patient hadgone _ad patres_; the servant didn't let the doctor speak; you're nolonger wanted, he told him. He hadn't expected this, got confused, andasked, "Why, did your master hiccup before his death?" "Yes." "Did hehiccup much?" "Yes." "Ah, well, that's all right," and off he set backagain. Ha! ha! ha!'
The old man was alone in his laughter; Arkady forced a smile on hisface. Bazarov simply stretched. The conversation went on in this wayfor about an hour; Arkady had time to go to his room, which turned outto be the anteroom attached to the bathroom, but was very snug andclean. At last Tanyusha came in and announced that dinner was ready.
Vassily Ivanovitch was the first to get up. 'Come, gentlemen. You mustbe magnanimous and pardon me if I've bored you. I daresay my good wifewill give you more satisfaction.'
The dinner, though prepared in haste, turned out to be very good, evenabundant; only the wine was not quite up to the mark; it was almostblack sherry, bought by Timofeitch in the town at a well-knownmerchant's, and had a faint coppery, resinous taste, and the flies werea great nuisance. On ordinary days a serf-boy used to keep driving themaway with a large green branch; but on this occasion Vassily Ivanovitchhad sent him away through dread of the criticism of the youngergeneration. Arina Vlasyevna had had time to dress: she had put on ahigh cap with silk ribbons and a pale blue flowered shawl. She brokedown again directly she caught sight of her Enyusha, but her husbandhad no need to admonish her; she made haste to wipe away her tearsherself, for fear of spotting her shawl. Only the young men ateanything; the master and mistress of the house had dined long ago.Fedka waited at table, obviously encumbered by having boots on for thefirst time; he was assisted by a woman of a masculine cast of face andone eye, by name Anfisushka, who performed the duties of housekeeper,poultry-woman, and laundress. Vassily Ivanovitch walked up and downduring the whole of dinner, and with a perfectly happy, positivelybeatific countenance, talked about the serious anxiety he felt atNapoleon's policy, and the intricacy of the Italian question. ArinaVlasyevna took no notice of Arkady. She did not press him to eat;leaning her round face, to which the full cherry-coloured lips and thelittle moles on the cheeks and over the eyebrows gave a very simplegood-natured expression, on her little closed fist, she did not takeher eyes off her son, and kept constantly sighing; she was dying toknow for how long he had come, but she was afraid to ask him.
'What if he says for two days,' she thought, and her heart sank. Afterthe roast Vassily Ivanovitch disappeared for an instant, and returnedwith an opened half-bottle of champagne. 'Here,' he cried, 'though wedo live in the wilds, we have something to make merry with on festiveoccasions!' He filled three champagne glasses and a little wineglass,proposed the health of 'our inestimable guests,' and at once tossed offhis glass in military fashion; while he made Arina Vlasyevna drink herwineglass to the last drop. When the time came in due course forpreserves, Arkady, who could not bear anything sweet, thought it hisduty, however, to taste four different kinds which had been freshlymade, all the more as Bazarov flatly refused them and began at oncesmoking a cigarette. Then tea came on the scene with cream, butter, andcracknels; then Vassily Ivanovitch took them all into the garden toadmire the beauty of the evening. As they passed a garden seat hewhispered to Arkady--
'At this spot I love to meditate, as I watch the sunset; it suits arecluse like me. And there, a little farther off, I have planted someof the trees beloved of Horace.'
'What trees?' asked Bazarov, overhearing.
'Oh ... acacias.'
Bazarov began to yawn.
'I imagine it's time our travellers were in the arms of Morpheus,'observed Vassily Ivanovitch.
'That is, it's time for bed,' Bazarov put in. 'That's a correct idea.It is time, certainly.'
As he said good-night to his mother, he kissed her on the forehead,while she embraced him, and stealthily behind his back she gave him herblessing three times. Vassily Ivanovitch conducted Arkady to his room,and wished him 'as refreshing repose as I enjoyed at your happy years.'And Arkady did as a fact sleep exc
ellently in his bath-house; there wasa smell of mint in it, and two crickets behind the stove rivalled eachother in their drowsy chirping. Vassily Ivanovitch went from Arkady'sroom to his study, and perching on the sofa at his son's feet, he waslooking forward to having a chat with him; but Bazarov at once sent himaway, saying he was sleepy, and did not fall asleep till morning. Withwide open eyes he stared vindictively into the darkness; the memoriesof childhood had no power over him; and besides, he had not yet hadtime to get rid of the impression of his recent bitter emotions. ArinaVlasyevna first prayed to her heart's content, then she had a long,long conversation with Anfisushka, who stood stock-still before hermistress, and fixing her solitary eye upon her, communicated in amysterious whisper all her observations and conjectures in regard toYevgeny Vassilyevitch. The old lady's head was giddy with happiness andwine and tobacco smoke; her husband tried to talk to her, but with awave of his hand gave it up in despair.
Arina Vlasyevna was a genuine Russian gentlewoman of the olden times;she ought to have lived two centuries before, in the old Moscow days.She was very devout and emotional; she believed in fortune-telling,charms, dreams, and omens of every possible kind; she believed in theprophecies of crazy people, in house-spirits, in wood-spirits, inunlucky meetings, in the evil eye, in popular remedies, she atespecially prepared salt on Holy Thursday, and believed that the end ofthe world was at hand; she believed that if on Easter Sunday the lightsdid not go out at vespers, then there would be a good crop ofbuckwheat, and that a mushroom will not grow after it has been lookedon by the eye of man; she believed that the devil likes to be wherethere is water, and that every Jew has a blood-stained patch on hisbreast; she was afraid of mice, of snakes, of frogs, of sparrows, ofleeches, of thunder, of cold water, of draughts, of horses, of goats,of red-haired people, and black cats, and she regarded crickets anddogs as unclean beasts; she never ate veal, doves, crayfishes, cheese,asparagus, artichokes, hares, nor water-melons, because a cutwater-melon suggested the head of John the Baptist, and of oysters shecould not speak without a shudder; she was fond of eating--and fastedrigidly; she slept ten hours out of the twenty-four--and never went tobed at all if Vassily Ivanovitch had so much as a headache; she hadnever read a single book except _Alexis or the Cottage in the Forest_;she wrote one, or at the most two letters in a year, but was great inhousewifery, preserving, and jam-making, though with her own hands shenever touched a thing, and was generally disinclined to move from herplace. Arina Vlasyevna was very kindhearted, and in her way not at allstupid. She knew that the world is divided into masters whose duty itis to command, and simple folk whose duty it is to serve them--and soshe felt no repugnance to servility and prostrations to the ground; butshe treated those in subjection to her kindly and gently, never let asingle beggar go away empty-handed, and never spoke ill of any one,though she was fond of gossip. In her youth she had been pretty, hadplayed the clavichord, and spoken French a little; but in the course ofmany years' wanderings with her husband, whom she had married againsther will, she had grown stout, and forgotten music and French. Her sonshe loved and feared unutterably; she had given up the management ofthe property to Vassily Ivanovitch--and now did not interfere inanything; she used to groan, wave her handkerchief, and raise hereyebrows higher and higher with horror directly her old husband beganto discuss the impending government reforms and his own plans. She wasapprehensive, and constantly expecting some great misfortune, and beganto weep directly she remembered anything sorrowful.... Such women arenot common nowadays. God knows whether we ought to rejoice!
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